Chapter 30 #2
Oskaren leaned down. Thia’s eyes widened, wondering what the other girl could possibly be doing as her mouth brushed past Thia’s cheek, breath tickling her hair.
That same nutty scent washed over her—she placed it now as hazelnut—and she wondered if it was some local cologne, or if that was just how the girl smelled.
When Oskaren was over Thia’s ear she paused, then whispered, “Thank you,” with a blend of humor and gentleness that sent Thia bright red.
She pulled back, desperate to see the girl’s face. But Oskaren had already turned and was rolling out her shoulders like she was prepared to fight. Dess looked askance at Thia, and she shrugged, even though she knew exactly what that was.
Flirting. It wasn’t the first time, but Oskaren’s comments had always been cool, biting. A way to create space. This was about bringing Thia closer. She frowned, recalling Dess’s warnings about games.
But then Oskaren barked, “Positions,” and Thia was forced to halt her contemplations.
Dess settled into a fighting stance, and she did her best to copy it.
Oskaren prowled between them. “Good,” she said, inspecting Dess. Then she tapped Thia’s shoulder, so light she almost didn’t feel it. “Lower this.”
Thia did so. The knife felt strange in her palm, though more comfortable than the stick. More deadly also, and that was not comforting.
“Dess will be Xercae,” Oskaren said. “We know she wants you alive, which means you may have a chance to get close to her without being disintegrated by her magic.” She paced, hands comfortably intertwined behind her back.
“But she’s also bigger, faster, stronger, and altogether more practiced at killing. I doubt you’ll land a cut.”
“Your belief in me is inspiring,” Thia muttered, and Oskaren’s lips twitched.
“The point is, she will likely trap and bite you, as she did before. You’ll have moments before the poison takes root. That is your chance.”
It was a fair point. But one Thia could not concentrate on as Oskaren’s grip returned to her wrist. Again, the impact was light, almost like the girl was afraid to touch her.
Though how that squared with the whisper in her ear, Thia didn’t know.
Or maybe she did, but the implications of that were not something she was prepared to think about.
“When you strike, strike with your body, your arm. Not your wrist.” She guided Thia forward through the motion, her hand sliding to Thia’s elbow to direct it forward, her other on Thia’s shoulder. Then she stepped back abruptly. “Try again, with all your strength.”
Thia did. Her wrist snapped with the movement, not enough to hurt, but definitely not comfortably.
Oskaren shook her head. “Not enough body. Your wrist shouldn’t twist at all. Again.”
Thia did, focusing on her shoulder and torso. It felt—good. Powerful. She beamed at Oskaren, and the girl’s mouth parted.
“That was—” She cleared her throat. “Much better.” She waved a hand. “Dessfar, here. Attack her as if you were Xercae.”
Dess’s mouth flattened with sympathy. “Sorry in advance.”
Thia dropped into her ready position as he approached. He put his hand on her shoulder. She turned, trying to shove him off. He caught her other hand. Then suddenly she was pinned against his chest, his thick arms around her shoulder, head poised as if to bite her.
“Stay there,” Oskaren said. “Thia.”
“Yes?” Her voice was muffled, pressed into Dess’s shoulder.
“Your hands are still free. Turn as much as you can, then strike just under his ribs, as we practiced.”
“Maybe we should have done this with the stick,” Dess said.
“She’ll stop short of stabbing you,” Oskaren said. “Or maybe she won’t.” She shrugged. “No great loss.”
Dess grit his teeth, and this close, Thia could see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed his irritation.
“Okay, I’m going now,” she said.
Dess lowered his teeth like he was about to sink them into her neck. Thia drove the knife forward. And halted just before it hit him.
“Not bad,” Oskaren said. “A little low. You’ll want to weaken her enough to decapitate her—or for one of us to—and for that you’ll need to hit her heart. Again.”
Thia did. And again and again until finally Oskaren said, “That’s the spot.”
Dess released her. “Consider me weakened.”
“Do it again,” Oskaren said. “From the beginning. Grab her, bite her—Thia stab him, all in one.”
They attempted it. Thia felt she’d hit the right target again, but Oskaren was shaking her head. “Like you actually want to kill her, Dessfar. You’re giving her too much room to move her arm.”
“But I don’t want to kill her,” Dess protested. “Look at that pathetic little face.”
Thia glared good-naturedly. “I’ve got a knife, and I’m not afraid to use it.”
“Yes, you are.”
“No, I’m—argh!” She let out a cry and nearly dropped the blade as rough hands yanked her sideways and pinned her to a chest that was suspiciously softer than Dess’s. A warm mouth pressed against her neck, teeth scraping her skin. Heat pooled in Thia’s belly, her toes curling.
Dess said, “Oskaren, don’t—” And the reminder of the audience zapped Thia back to reality and the task at hand.
She twisted, squirming in the strong grip to get as much of her arm free as possible. Then she struck with all her strength.
Oskaren was closer than anticipated, or maybe Thia just wasn’t paying attention. The knife halted a breath too late and the tip sank into cloth, into skin, before she remembered herself and yanked back. Oskaren released her, hands flying to her side in shock.
Thia stumbled forward. “Oskaren. I’m so sorry. I—”
Oskaren dodged her touch. “Leave it.”
“Just let me—”
But Oskaren was already gone, hastening for the trees while her blood dripped from Thia’s dagger.