Chapter 6 #2
For the next hour, I tried to mimic the skilled manner with which my sister worked.
As I struggled through tasks, her hands flew across a chopping block, sending perfect circles of produce into the boiling water before moving to scrub dishes.
Jezebel didn’t bat an eye as she worked beside my mother, their brains one.
“Jezzie, can you pass me the wooden spoon and the thyme?”
Jezebel had the spoon extended before my mother finished her request. “Rosemary will complement it better,” she said, offering my mother a small jar.
The effortless manner in which they communicated the running of our household and their skills in the kitchen were all a mystery to me. I had no interest in chores, but still I gawked at my flawless sister, trying to find any similarity between the fighter I trained with and the woman before me.
She was both insightful and strong. Soft, yet fierce. Where I was made entirely of the rough edges and honed minds of Mystique Warriors, Jezebel Alabath truly was the daughter of two bloodlines.
Her dress, a weightless, pale pink fabric with two layers of skirts and a tightly drawn corset up the back, swished about her as she spun through the kitchen faster than my eyes could register.
The pale-yellow sunlight streaking through the window picked up the subtle iridescence of the top layer of skirts and danced across her tanned skin.
She kept her cropped hair behind her ears, and a golden chain hung around her neck, a crescent moon pendant and amethyst glittering in the light.
When I finished preparing the final ear of corn in my pile, I pushed back from the table. Scraps fell from where they had piled in the skirts of my olive-green dress. Something heavy weighted down my pocket.
“Jezebel?” I asked, my tone as light and innocent as possible. “Care for a walk?” I wiggled my eyebrows tauntingly.
Jezzie turned toward my mother, questioning if she required any more help. When my mother shook her head no, Jezebel followed me from the kitchen.
“Only if we practice spearwork,” she whispered.
As we exited through the front door, the thrum within my blood increased, until it reached a crescendo of excited beats in my ears.
“That’s exactly as I hoped.”
Twenty minutes later I was in the weapons shed, strapped into my leather training gear, the worn material molding to the curves of my body.
It flexed and contracted where my muscles moved like a second skin.
I stretched and practiced a few gentle kicks and punches to warm up, relishing the freedom of the leathers compared to the binding of my dress.
It was reckless to train in the middle of the day, but I thought of the spear and that thing pounding beneath my skin—and I didn’t care.
Jezebel finished tightening metal guards around her wrists, neck, and ankles, the places deemed her weaknesses.
The places I always struck. My own guards shone from around my neck and shoulders, but I had long ago abandoned the ankle and wrist braces.
The longer you trained, the less guarded you became, until one day your instincts acted as your shields entirely.
In proper battles, armor could be worn, but the goal of our exercises was to teach us to not rely on those protections, but on our own strength and speed.
I buckled Starfire’s sheath to my waist, strapped daggers around my thigh, and looked to my sister. She raised her brows at me.
“I—” I fidgeted with my belt, unsure how to explain the spear. How to explain anything I experienced last night.
“You?” she asked. Sunlight streamed in through the open door, outlining her frame.
My pulse and the new essence within my blood hammered.
Last night felt so intimate. The experience held so many unexplained truths, folded within layers of pain, that I was frightened to share the memory with my sister.
But the heat of the spear still lingered against my flesh, and I knew I had to dissect it.
I couldn’t do that without a partner to fight against.
Jezebel had always been my confidant, even before Malakai left. Though she antagonized me to the Spirit Realm and back, the bond between sisters was unique and impenetrable.
I chose my words carefully, unfolding the hurt within me and baring it before her, explaining why I went to the clearing the night before, what I hoped to gain, what I did not find, and what seemed to have found me.
Reliving the pain of the spear’s appearance felt like something twisted its way through my bloodstream, but when I finished, relief unspooled in my chest. Perhaps sharing the weight of pain truly was a good thing.
Jezebel crossed the shed to wrap her arms around me. We were silent, but I relaxed into her embrace. When she pulled back, she appraised me with wide eyes. So many thoughts swirled in those tawny irises.
“Where is it?” was the first question she voiced.
One locked cabinet remained at the back of the shed.
Before the war, it had been the place my father kept his most cherished weapons.
Now, he rarely visited the room at all. I fished an iron key from the pocket of my discarded dress and took a breath, unsure why I was so nervous. It was only a spear.
With shallow breaths, I removed the weapon from where I had stashed it last night.
The second it met my hand, the familiar heat surged along my arm.
It was empowering and endangering all at once, in ways I neither expected nor felt able to handle—it fueled me but also seemed like it could kill me.
I did not release it, though. The power surged into my body, stronger now than last night.
Jezebel came to stand beside me, eyes lingering on the place where my fingers wrapped around the weapon, but she did not touch it.
“This shouldn’t be here,” she whispered, tone reverent.
“I know,” I agreed. It should be with Malakai.
“You’re certain there was no one else in the clearing?”
I nodded. “Positive.” I had checked the perimeter extensively before leaving, and with my heightened senses, I would have known if someone had entered the clearing to deposit the spear.
Although, I had to admit that I was sick at the time.
But anyone planning to leave this there would not have known that was going to happen. It was mere convenience.
“Describe it again,” Jezebel said, still not looking at me.
I adjusted my grip on the spear, searching for the words to explain the sensation when I touched it.
“It feels like there’s something in me that’s reaching out to it, and something within it struggling to get to me.
Like threads through my veins—tugging. Like my blood was a river whose current was being warped. ”
“Could it be the Bind?” Her eyes narrowed at the weapon, and I could practically see her mind turning.
“Perhaps.” I shrugged. “But I know what that pull feels like, and this feels different.”
“But it’s Malakai’s spear by the hands of fate,” she mused, one hand fiddling with the charm on her necklace. “Maybe he’s somehow tied to it—like it’s connected to his spirit, so it calls to the tethers within the Bind.”
I stared at my sister, wondering when she became so profound. I often forgot she was not the young girl who followed us to training sessions each day in secret and watched from the trees. She spoke of the Bind and the forge it drew between two souls as if she had experienced it.
“You may be right,” I said, unsure why the explanation disappointed me.
We stood in silence, the power in my hand swallowing us up. Outside the shed, birds called to each other, and breezes rustled the trees; I found it incredible how the rest of the world could seem so untouched by this new mystery in our lives.
Finally, Jezebel asked, “What do you want to do with it?”
I turned the spear over, testing its weight. “I want to use it.”
“You?” She quirked a brow. “You want to use a spear?”
I nodded.
“I’ve been trying to get you to use spears for years.”
“Not this one,” I replied, strapping it to my back. It settled between my shoulder blades as if it was meant to be there, warmth spreading out from the metal and seeping into my skin.
Jezebel’s answering smile was dazzling. “After you.” She threw the door open, the wood creaking as we stepped out into the spring sun and began our training.
With the cool breezes dancing along my cheeks, I truly enjoyed the power of a spear for the first time.
I twirled the weapon above my head, my hands moving swiftly. When I was within striking distance of Jezebel, I slashed diagonally, aiming not for her but for her weapon. It flew to the dirt beneath her feet.
“Excellent,” she cheered. Though I had beaten her, a smile crept across her flushed face. For the first time in years, mine truly matched it.
My chest rose and fell rapidly. Fighting with a spear was different than a sword, and my muscles were not quite used to the exertion. The burn was foreign but welcomed.
“Let’s go again,” I panted, taking large paces backward to put the appropriate distance between us.
My sister matched my steps, resetting her position.
“In spearwork, unlike swordwork, you want to keep distance between you and your opponent,” she reminded me.
My instincts always sent me charging at an enemy, to close the distance between our weapons and get my blade upon them.
I liked the directness of my short sword and the control it granted.
This kind of fighting was different, though. A recalculation of my instincts.
“I know. Quick feet and quicker stabs,” I finished the quote for her. It was one we had both heard, many years ago, the last time I had trained with a spear. Jezebel had been underage, not allowed to train at our level, but Malakai and I didn’t much care for the rules.
Quick feet and quicker stabs, a deep voice echoed in my head. Malakai’s voice. I breathed in the fresh air of our training ring, and for a moment I smelled the rush of worn leather, cedar, and honeysuckle that was Malakai.
I had practically trained from the moment I could walk.
I knew how to hold a spear, how to strike, and how to crush an opponent beneath the piercing point of its blade, but I had never understood the grace it took to truly be one with the weapon.
An energy poured out of the metal and into my hand, crawling up my arm like it was claiming me for its own.
I was unsure whether it was because of the Bind, as my sister suggested, or for another reason, but as it embedded itself into my muscles and veins, I felt something shift within me.
With Malakai’s spear, I channeled his power. That unnamed essence flowed from the weapon into my body, forging a connection, and the distance between us seemed to shrink.