34. Krait
Chapter 34
Krait
W ith the appropriate tonics, Sybilla appeared less and less tired each day, and she refused to allow us to hold off training any longer. She’d only been recovering for a week, but she’d strong-armed me into taking her to the amphitheater.
The Star-wielder and my old bounty hunter visited nearly every day, bringing word from the Corridors. There’d been no movement of troops, but it was clear that Bringham and Mattock were unwavering in their refusal to cooperate.
So be it.
Their actions seemed to give Sybilla a newfound tenacity toward our training.
So there we were—back in the pit. This time, she insisted it be me that she dueled with.
She’d cracked through my mental shields and disarmed me twice already but was growing fatigued. I could tell by the way her chest rose and fell without reprieve, by the way her hand found her throat when we rested between maneuvers.
Her combat skills still left much to be desired. As soon as a weapon graced her hands, she could no longer disarm me. It seemed she couldn’t master the art of fighting with her body and her mind.
The sun rose over the amphitheater. The echoing sound of the wood-on-wood of our swords carried through the empty domed space.
“Stop me,” I grunted as I swung the hollow wooden sword at her shoulder again.
She didn’t block. “Ouch! You ass!” She glared. “This is foolish. I’ll have a dozen bruises.”
She was absolutely useless with a sword.
“Again. Stop me. You don’t only have that sword to use, Sybilla. You can disarm me while moving.”
I swung, and she jumped back out of the way. “Prick,” she gasped out. “Just give me a bow and then you’ll see what I can do with moving objects.”
Loose curls stuck to her temples, and the rest of her hair was piled on her head with that blue ribbon. She gripped the wooden sword with two hands and charged.
I smirked because the memory of her with an arrow pointed at my head, on that palace wall in Luz, did something wicked to the blood flow in my groin. “I remember,” I said and blocked, which caused her chest to slam into mine with a strained growl. “But you’re still shit with a sword.”
“Well, I was never trained with a sword.” Clunk. She winced against the vibration of the wood clashing.
“We’re making excuses now?” I asked. Block.
This time, when I swung, the hollow wood hit her hip. She yelped, and my resolve broke at the sound. I dropped the wooden sword to my side for a moment.
She’d finally agreed to see our healer. They could fix a common bruise—she’d be fine. But every time she failed to stop me, it heightened my anxiety.
If she couldn’t stop a wooden sword—what would happen if she faced a steel one?
“You can’t stop me, can you?” I instigated before lifting and pointing my sword between her eyes.
“I can.” She grabbed the wooden blade of my sword and pushed it away. “These swords are made for children. Swing a real one at me, and I can. I just heard you thinking it.”
“No,” I shot back.
“C’mon, Krait, this is ridiculous,” Sybilla huffed. Elsedora strolled into the ring, flipping one of her throwing daggers in her hand. Sources , she had a way of sneaking up when you least expected her.
“She’s right,” El said.
A frustrated groan rumbled in the back of my throat.
Great, they’d teamed up against me.
Elsedora pointed the dagger at Sybilla. “You want to stop a real blade, my friend?” she playfully asked.
Sybilla’s stance widened—there were only a few yards between them. El never missed a mark.
“Don’t!” I shouted at Elsedora, but there was a mischievous glint in her eyes. Sybilla’s sword rose, and she charged forward as Elsedora took aim.
Please let her not be aiming at any vital organs.
Just before the dagger left El’s fingertips, her torso bent forward. She cursed and flung the dagger at the ground. It landed inches from the toe of Sybilla’s boot.
She’d really intended to throw it at her.
I seethed.
Elsedora held her stomach as though she’d just been punched.
“Sorry!” Sybilla called out. She ran to El’s side. “I just...reacted. Instead of stopping you, I...diverted you.”
Elsedora winced. “What was that?”
“Pain...” Sybilla answered. “I think.”
“It was fucking awful. Is that what you did to those prisoners?”
I approached them. Elsedora had disobeyed a direct order, and Sybilla had encouraged her. She could have been struck with that blade. It had come so fucking close. “You.” I pointed at Elsedora. “Out!”
“Krait,” Sybilla reasoned. “I stopped her! While moving.” There was a wild, widening grin on her face that made me lose steam.
“She isn’t going to learn by being coddled,” Elsedora said before pointing another throwing knife at me. “You want her safe? Let me and Ryn handle her physical training because you have done a piss-poor job today. Your feelings have gotten the better of you.”
“That’s enough,” I growled out before throwing my wooden sword down between them and walking toward the amphitheater’s exit.
I could hear Elsedora whisper, “He’ll calm down. Don’t worry.”
The thought of Sybilla in harm’s way had become a mounting source of anxiety. Finding her had always been my destiny to resent. Now that she was here, sleeping beside me, letting me still train her despite knowing all of my ill intentions, I couldn’t find a single damned thing to resent about her.
The fight she’d promised? It hadn’t happened.
And I’d never been more angry about not having had an argument.
If she didn’t care enough to confront it, so be it. Wanting to keep her around had not been in the plans.
Yet Elsedora was right.
My emotions were too deeply involved.
Sybilla Wymark refused to leave my mind in more ways than one.
If it was a political arrangement she wanted, then she’d get one. So long as we were allied in defeating Caym, we couldn’t afford complications.