Come Away

Chapter 31 - Fight

Naoise is standing at the head of the center table. He calls out to us, "Wait! Before you begin, we have a very important detail that was almost forgotten."

He pauses, and I keep my gaze trained on him. Hoping for some miracle.

"The feast, of course!" He says at last, and everyone cheers. "This way, our food won't grow cold while we are entertained." He adds with a wry smile directed at me. I glare at him, feeling stupid for letting myself think that he might call off the fight.

All he cares about is himself.

The King sits down, and all the other faeries follow him. Then the mortals bring their trays and baskets over and the sound of tinkling glass and happy conversation picks up as if this is just an ordinary party, and two people aren't about to brawl it out on stage for their enjoyment. 

Dinner and a show. 

But it's not like this is some scripted movie scene here. I'll be lucky to walk away from this with another welt on my face.

Brushing my bangs from my eyes, I tune out the noise of the feast and refocus on my opponent.

The trainer's eyes narrow on me, and I know he's going to move a split-second before it happens. It gives me enough time to shift to my left, allowing him to stab at nothing but air where my chest just was.

We pace in a circle as I catch my breath.

Did he just try and kill me?

And right out of the gate too. He's not playing around today. Unlike the practice lessons, I can sense a new intensity in the trainer's movements. If I lose this match, I have a sick feeling that rendering me unconscious won't be the worst thing he'll do. Maybe the King told him to finish me off. That way he's free of any deals with me.

The trainer keeps sidestepping to the left, and I follow after him so we're circling each other like vultures. I can see the faeries feasting away, emptying their goblets and letting timid mortals refill them.

None of these faeries care about anything real. Those mortal servants are moments away from death and still the party goes on like everything's fine.

In my attempt to find Darren in the crowd, I nearly trip over the hem of my dress. Why did I ever agree with the other mortal girls to put it on this morning? They told me high fashion would intimidate the King. A lot of good it did me. Naoise is eating lamb chops and watching me fight to the death, pretty dress and all.

Just as suspected, the trainer takes advantage of my wardrobe malfunction and lunges at me. I drop to the ground on instinct, and his legs clash with my body as he flies over the top of me and lands on his side. Before he can get up, I clamber to my feet and spin around, forcing the tip of my spear right at his face.

My spearhead sinks into the stage with an audible thunk, just skimming his jaw, and I can hear the faeries gasping. The trainer is equally shocked as we stare at each other for a brief moment.

That's right, I tell him through my cold gaze, you're not the only one who can fight dirty.

His jaw flexes, and again I predict his move a second before he makes it. As he slams his feet down on the stage, he uses his back muscles to push himself into a standing position. At the same time, I skirt around my spear and yank it from the wood right before the side of his spear clashes with mine inches in front of my face.

Instead of retreating, he holds the position until my calves and arms scream from the pressure. I know I can't block his blow forever. Then I hear Markie's voice in my mind from this morning when she gave me a last minute sparring lesson.