by Lynette Noni
“I won’t break her,” Zain promised. “I merely seek to uncover the truth.”
Alex felt a shiver of foreboding. ‘I won’t break her.’ What was that supposed to mean?
The king nodded his consent and Zain bowed slightly before he turned and led the way from the room.
“Come along, mortals,” Kyia said, ushering Alex and her friends out of their seats and motioning for them to follow as she trailed after Zain. The king and the other Meyarin brought up the rear of their procession.
“I don’t feel very good about this,” Alex whispered to her friends.
“You’re not the only one,” D.C. said.
The moment they all stepped into the hallway, the floor took off from underneath them. Alex was once again thrown backwards as she felt the power of the Valispath hurtling them through the air. Except this time they were literally moving through the building. They flew through solid walls as if they were open windows; they whisked around Meyarins going about their day; and they rushed higher and higher up one of the spiralling towers until the transparent barrier landed them in a huge, vaulted room.
“I have got to get me one of these,” Jordan said as he stood to his feet again, brushing windswept hair from his forehead. Only the Meyarins had been able to keep their footing on the ride, and Alex had no idea how they’d managed not to fall.
“Where are we?” D.C. asked, looking around the massive room. It was empty except for the eight of them, and most of the floor was covered with some kind of padded, gym-style mat.
“This is one of our less commonly used training rooms,” Kyia informed them as Zain opened one of the doors nearest to them and disappeared within.
“Training rooms?” Jordan repeated. “Training for what?”
No one answered him, and Zain re-entered the room carrying a sword. With his free hand he immediately unsheathed his own blade from the scabbard at his waist. Held side by side, Alex could clearly see that both swords were made from the shiny Meyarin steel, and one was significantly larger than the other.
Without warning, Zain threw the smaller weapon through the air, straight at Alex. She yelped and instinctively reached out to grab the pommel, grateful for Karter’s occasional temper that had prompted him to pull the same dangerous manoeuvre on her in the past.
“Hey, watch it,” she said angrily. “Someone could get hurt.”
In the blink of an eye, Zain’s sword came soaring towards her torso.
Reacting on instinct, Alex spun out of the way, finally cluing in on what he planned to do with her. But they were way too close to her friends for comfort, and if the guard was intent on fighting her, there was no way she would allow anyone else to get hurt in the process.
“Come on, you big oaf,” Alex goaded, running away from her friends. She kept running until she was on the firm but spongy mat, far enough away from the others for them to be safe. “If it’s a fight you want, it’s a fight you’ll get.”
She hadn’t heard Zain chasing after her, so when she turned around and he was directly behind her, she had to suppress a squeak of surprise. Realising she was about to go up against a Meyarin in a sword fight, Alex had to hold back an exclamation of fear.
Oh, I’m so dead, she thought.
Zain’s sword came slicing towards her again, and this time she met it with her own blade. The power behind his blow sent her staggering, but she repositioned to hold the sword with two hands, which helped her brace against his supernatural strength. Once she managed to deflect his weapon, she wasn’t sure what to do next. She didn’t want to attack the Meyarin, but if the alternative was her death, then she only had one viable option.
Defence it is, she decided. She would defend against his attacks, but not provoke him with her own.
The following minutes nearly killed Alex in more ways than one. It turned out that ‘defence’ was much easier said than done when it came to battling a Meyarin. Zain was stronger, faster and much more experienced than anyone she’d ever fought against—including Karter. Half the time she didn’t see his sword flying towards her, and only a natural instinct for survival coupled with some super-keen reflexes kept her limbs attached to her body.
“Is that the best you can do, little Garseth?” Zain mocked.
“I told you,” Alex panted, avoiding his blade yet again. “I’m not a Rebel!”
“And yet you fight with more fire and finesse than any other mortal I’ve come across,” Zain returned.
“I—What?”
Zain’s words caught her off-guard and she only just managed to bring her weapon up in time against his next attack. In her haste to block his move she failed to notice when he swept his leg out and hooked it behind her own, tripping her over, and she slammed onto the ground. Her sword was jarred out of her hand as she lay winded on the not-as-soft-as-she’d-first-thought floor.
Instead of his sword coming down to seal her fate, Zain reached out a hand to pull Alex back to her feet.
“Um, thanks,” she said, pressing a hand to her throbbing head. Yeah, the mat was definitely not as spongy as she would have liked.
“You’re welcome, little human,” Zain said with an amused smirk.
Alex didn’t know why he’d stopped trying to kill her, but she wasn’t willing to question the matter—not without a sword in her hands. She would even let his ‘little human’ comment go, so long as he was no longer threatening her life.
Zain reached down to grab the sword she’d dropped and he indicated for her to lead the way back to their companions. She wasn’t overly comfortable having him behind her with two blades, so she hurried over to the others as Zain went on to speak with the other Meyarins.
“Are you all right?” D.C. asked, looking pale.
“Yeah,” Alex answered, rotating her neck and feeling something pop back into place.
“That. Was. Awesome,” Jordan said, staring at her in awe. “Seriously—I’ve never seen anything like it!”
Alex turned to him. “What are you talking about? That was definitely not awesome.”
“From our point of view it was pretty amazing, Alex,” Bear said. “We had no idea you could fight like that.”
Alex searched for the right words and settled on, “I still have a lot to learn.”
“That you do, little human,” Zain said, interrupting their conversation. Apparently the Meyarins were done speaking privately. “But you’re well on your way.”
Alex wasn’t sure how to respond to his unexpected compliment, so she ended up saying a quiet, “Uh, thank you.”
She had no idea what the big deal was. She’d barely lasted a few minutes in their fight before Zain had won. That wasn’t exactly something to brag about.
“As ‘enjoyable’ as that was, I’m hoping there was a point to that exercise,” Alex told the Meyarins. “Did you find out what you needed to know?”
“We were testing whether or not you’re under Aven’s control,” Kyia said, her emerald eyes gazing thoughtfully at Alex.
“And the verdict is?”
“You fight unexpectedly well for one of your kind,” Zain answered. “You show great promise, but your strength and skills are your own. You’re not under the influence of the Rebel Prince.”
Alex had to resist rolling her eyes. She’d told them that, but they hadn’t believed her. But despite the inconvenience—and the danger—to her, she understood that they’d had to check. Even if she wasn’t thrilled by the way they’d done so.
“Well, that’s a relief,” Jordan piped up cheerfully. “It would’ve sucked to have a best friend who was possessed by an evil tyrant. Great anecdote, but definitely not ideal.”
“Jordan, seriously. Stop talking,” D.C. muttered, shaking her head at him.
“You’re such a royal buzz-kill,” he huffed. But then his expression brightened and he asked, “What happens next? Can we see more of Meya before we leave?”
While her friends were speaking, Alex was acutely aware of the unknown Meyarin’s eyes upon he
r, almost as if he was searching for something.
“I’d like to try something, if you don’t mind?” he said, turning to wait for the king’s nod of permission before looking back at Alex questioningly.
“Um, sure,” she said, wondering why he’d sought her consent when the king had already agreed.
The Meyarin led her away from the others and back onto the mat. Her heartbeat sped up and her companion chuckled as if he could hear the erratic thumping. Maybe he could, Alex realised. She had no idea just how good Meyarin hearing was.
“Don’t worry, Alex,” he said, maintaining his earlier informality and putting her at ease. “It’s just a little experiment.”
“What kind of experiment?” she asked when she noticed him pull a long piece of material from his clothing. While he wasn’t wearing head-to-toe armour like Zain, his dark outfit was still like something straight out of a fantasy movie. All that was missing was the cape.
“I spent most of my youth with Aven Dalmarta,” he said. “I’m well acquainted with the scent of his blood, and that’s why I’m one of the few who can tell it lingers within you, dormant or not. I have no concerns about him holding any control over you—it’s clear your mind is too strong for his Claiming to still be active—but I’m curious whether the blood tainting your veins has any other effect. I’d like to test my hypothesis.”
“And what is your hypothesis?” Alex asked, wondering how much further they would be walking and whether she should ask him to take her back to her friends.
“I’ll let you know after I’ve tested it.”
Alex wasn’t certain she liked his answer. “Do you have a name?”
He turned to look at her with an amused—and breathtakingly beautiful—smile. “I do.”
“And it is?”
“We’re far enough away from the others now,” he said, avoiding her question. “But just in case…”
He trailed off and knelt to the floor, pressing his fingers in some kind of coded rhythm against the mat. When he stood again, the floor began to tremble and a luminescent Myrox barrier rose up from beneath their feet, encircling them inside an impenetrable dome.
Alex glanced nervously at the sealed force field surrounding them. She couldn’t see past the shining barricade, and she knew her friends—and the other Meyarins—wouldn’t be able to see inside, either.
“Um, this doesn’t make me feel great about what you have planned.”
“It’s okay, Alex,” he said soothingly. “The barrier is for your protection. If it turns out that I’m right, then it’ll be best if the others are kept in the dark.”
“You know, I really hate it when people are cryptic,” she said, irritation momentarily overriding her fear.
The Meyarin laughed. It was a warm, comforting sound that reminded her of sunshine, strangely enough.
“I’m not a huge fan of it myself,” he agreed. “My betrothed often gives me just enough information to drive me crazy, while withholding the tiniest detail needed to have everything make sense. She excels in the art of cryptic-ness.”
Alex snorted. “Cryptic-ness isn’t a real word.”
“It could be.”
“It’s not,” Alex said confidently. “And I know what you’re doing, by the way.”
He tilted his head to the side with a small smile on his face. “What am I doing?”
“You’re trying to distract me,” she told him.
“Is it working?”
“Yes,” she answered, already feeling much calmer.
“Good,” he said. “Now turn around so I can blindfold you.” Goodbye, calm.
Seeing her wariness, he encouraged, “I promise nothing bad will happen.”
For some unexplainable reason, Alex trusted the easy-going Meyarin with his warm smiles and kind disposition. She released a heavy breath and turned around, hoping her instincts were right.
“Close your eyes,” he instructed, and she felt him place the cloth above her cheekbones and tie it firmly at the back. He then pressed a hand to her shoulder and moved her to face him again.
“What happens now?” she asked, failing to keep the uncertainty out of her voice.
“Now we see just how good those reflexes of yours really are.”
her ba ck.
Twelve
A rush of air was the only warning she had before her leg was kicked out from underneath her and she tumbled to the ground.
“Hey!” she cried. “What are you—”
Without knowing why, she turned her body to roll out of the way just in time to hear a thump behind her—right where she’d been lying a second earlier.
“Take a deep breath, Alex,” the Meyarin said. “Let go and feel the air around you.”
“I don’t know what you’re—” Before she could finish her sentence she heard a rushing noise and rolled out of the way again, this time using the momentum to lift herself back to her feet. She reached her hands up to untie her blindfold but it wouldn’t budge. When she tried to pull it over her head, she realised it was stuck in place.
“Get this thing off me!”
“Calm down and pay attention,” the Meyarin said, his voice gentle but firm. “You need to breathe and listen.”
“I don’t understand what you’re trying to—”
“Listen, Alex,” he interrupted. “Just listen.”
The tone of his voice stopped her protests. Whatever he was trying to prove seemed to be important, and he’d been nothing but kind to her. The least she could do was try to do as he asked.
“Okay,” she said. “Just give me a moment. I can’t hear anything over my convulsing heartbeat.”
She took a few deep breaths and tried to focus outwardly. She was blind, that much was true, but she still had her other senses. So when she felt the mat underneath her feet tilt slightly, she knew the Meyarin had decided her reprieve was over.
But this time she was ready.
The movement of the mat told her which direction he was attacking from, and the whisper of air she could inexplicably feel rushing outward from his position told her that he was swinging his arm towards her face. Instead of ducking, she threw her own hand out, meeting and deflecting his blow with her forearm. It wasn’t her smartest idea, since she’d forgotten to take into account his Meyarin strength, so all she managed to do was earn herself one mother of a bruise.
From then on, every time she ‘felt’ the Meyarin come at her, she ducked, jumped, lunged and rolled out of his way. Sometimes he managed to land a hit, but more often than not her instincts moved her out of his path in time.
Alex wasn’t sure how long they were going to keep ‘experimenting’ when her opponent said, “You’re doing great, Alex. Let’s try something more challenging and see how you go.”
She had no idea what he meant; not until she heard the distinct sound of rasping metal as he unsheathed a weapon.
“You can’t be serious!” she cried.
The sharp whistle of steel through the air told her that he was indeed serious.
Her instincts compelled her to duck out of the path of the blade. “You’re going to kill me!”
“Just concentrate,” he told her. “Open your mind and listen.”
“Stop telling me to listen.” She jumped back when she felt him lunge towards her. “And let me fight you fairly, with a weapon and no blindfold. You’re Meyarin—you’ll still win.”
“If you have a weapon, you’re more than welcome to use it,” he said. “And if it makes you feel better, I’m just as blind as you.”
“What!” Alex shrieked, dropping to the ground and rolling away from another attack.
Was he honestly fighting her blindfolded as well? Oh, she was so going to end up skewered.
“Can’t you feel it, Alex?” he asked, and she sensed his weapon stab towards her again. This time she was too distracted by her fear, and the blade nicked her arm, causing her to hiss as it grazed her flesh.
“I certainly felt that,” she said. “Too close,
buddy.”
His voice was amused when he said, “Buddy? Really?”
“You haven’t given me any other name,” she said, jumping backwards when his blade swiped at her again. “And what exactly am I supposed to be feeling?”
“Everything,” he told her reverently. “Let your instincts guide you.”
“What do you think I’ve been doing?” she huffed. “Building a submarine?”
“You’re not letting go completely, Alex,” he said. “Listen. Feel. Experience.”
Alex stopped moving, ducking only when she felt the blade swing at her again, and tried to centre herself. A few times during their ‘experiment’ she felt what she thought he was talking about. It was a natural instinct that took over and guided her to move in ways she didn’t understand but still made sense. The feeling had so far been sporadic, and the rest of the time she’d just been plain lucky. Now that the Meyarin had a blade, their game had changed, and she was more than ready to even the score. It was time for her to take an offensive position and test the limits of her senses.
When Alex felt him come at her again, she crouched down to avoid the blade and swept her leg out, using his own trick to hook her limb around him and knock him off his feet. It half worked, and she sensed him stumble to his knees, but he recovered quickly and sprang back up, renewing his fight. She twirled around him, dodging another swipe of his blade, and when she sensed she was behind him, she jumped onto his back, wrapping her legs around his torso and reaching down until she held his weaponed arm. But his strength was too much for her and he effortlessly detached her from his body throwing her over his head and onto the ground.
She hit the mat harder than expected and the fall dazed her, taking away all her ‘listening’ skills. By the time she came back to full awareness, all she knew was that there was a blade flying through the air, straight towards her head.
Alex didn’t have time to move out of the way; all she could do was raise her arm to protect her face and hope that the Meyarin would pull back after he realised he’d hit flesh. But the blinding pain from her wrist being amputated never came. Instead, there was a metallic clang as steel met steel.
