Starsinger

The Teeth

It was still dark the next morning when Aaron woke to the clatter of practice swords being dropped at his feet. He sat up. Jace was already dressed. "Let's work."

Wood smashed on wood and the force of impact shuddered through Aaron's arm, making him wince. He forced Jace's staff aside but instantly the striker was on him again, raining vicious blows down from all sides. It was all Aaron could do to keep pace, catching each thrust and turning it away. He was faster than Jace, quicker on his feet, and he had never been gladder of it. There was a fire burning in Jace's eyes and each attack came with astounding strength.

If I miss a block, he may break a bone, Aaron realized. If I don't, he may break the damn swords.

Jace had forced him back almost to the stream when he finally knocked the practice sword from Aaron's hands. "Again."

This time Aaron was meant to attack, but after a few parries Jace was pressing him back again. His arm sliced through the air and the flat of the sword cracked against Aaron's elbow. Aaron bit his tongue to keep from shouting. Adrenaline pulsed in his veins and he felt a sudden surge of energy. He blocked the next one and drove forward. For a moment Jace was thrown off balance, defending, stepping back, watching Aaron instead of leading the attack. But when Aaron's burst began to fade, Jace's rage did not. Soon Aaron was falling back towards the stream again, every instinct focused on the path of the wooden sword as it whistled through the air.

Then Jace shifted and swung the sword low and around in a ferocious uppercut. Aaron saw it coming, but it was too late to brace himself. Wood smashed on wood and this time he cried out as the blow jarred his fingers and quaked up his arm. The practice sword flew from his hand to land at Delia's feet.

Aaron drew back in surprise. He hadn't noticed her there.

Jace flinched. "Apologies if we woke you," he said coldly.

"You didn't." Delia bent down to pick up the practice sword and turned it around in her hand, testing the heft of it. She looked back up at Jace. "Teach me."

Jace shot the mage a dismissive look, but Delia just stared back at him. Slowly Jace's fury drained from his shoulders, leaving him looking frustrated and distinctly uncomfortable.

"You don't have to—" He cut off abruptly. He shoved a hand through his mop of red hair. "I shouldn't have said that last night. Not like that. I'm sorry."

"I'm not," said Delia. "Now teach me."

Jace shook his head. "You're not one of us. I was wrong to expect you to understand."

Delia glanced at Aaron. "He talks a lot, doesn't he?"

Jace was exasperated. "Delia—"

She leapt towards him and brought the sword down in a diagonal cut, aiming for Jace's shoulder, but her form was all wrong. Jace knocked the wooden blade away easily. It clattered against a rock. "You don't need to do this," Jace said.

Delia picked up the practice sword. She rushed at him again and he parried. This time Delia kept her grip but lost her footing, slipping in the dirt and tearing her tunic.

She has no instinct for this, Aaron realized. Delia could blend into the trees when stalking a deer, she could trace spells and bend fire to her will, but she was awkward and ungainly with a sword in her hand. Jace's ears were flushing berry-red and as he blocked her again he looked away. Embarrassed to see her fail.

"Delia, stop." Jace threw his sword down. "Enough of this. I don't want to hurt you."

Delia leveled the blunted point at his chest. "I don't care."