18. Rorax
The King of the Underground sends his regards. It shouldn’t surprise her that Angelo had found a way to spread his influence on the Choosing, but it had, and it comforted her to know the little troll was watching out for her.
Rorax watched as one of the Highborn girls sparred with Captain Lamonte, rubbing her fingers over the spots in her shoulder where she had bruises from carrying all her new clothes from Bafta back to the Northern Castle.
This girl looked competent, and she knew what she was doing. The Contestars on the other end of the courtyard weren’t faring so well. In fact, most of them looked like they’d never held a physical weapon before.
“Do you think this is a joke? Or have all the Contestars been in a coma for the last six months while they waited for you?” Jia mused.
Rorax winced as one of the other Contestars, a Lowborn named Claira, took an elbow from one of the instructors to her nose so hard it cracked. “Is it sad to say I’m starting to hope it’s a prank?”
Claira pressed her hands to her bleeding nose, blood dripping from between her fingers, and rushed from the courtyard.
It was almost Rorax’s turn to spar with the instructor the Guardian required the Contestars to work with until they had a Protectorate.
Rorax decided to hide her identity for the present, not because the Guardian had recommended it, but because she thought someone here might know one of her former targets. She didn’t want to start conflicts until she had to.
Rorax closed her eyes and took a deep breath in through her nose. The evening summer air was clean and crisp here at the Northern Castle. She was a little sweaty from the warmup exercises and stretches the instructor had them run through, and her muscles felt prepped and ready for a fight.
“How’d you sleep?” Jia asked.
Rorax snorted, opening her eyes to watch Mairi, another Contestar, timidly step up to the instructor. “Like shit.”
Rorax had taken a few books Radashan loaned her to her room. She’d stayed up late reading and rereading paragraphs, combing through the texts Radashan had recommended, and looking for any little clues. So far Rorax had come up empty.
Mairi, one of the Lowborns, went through the sequence with the Guardian”s men before a different girl, a Highborn this time, with dark ebony skin and waist length braids tied up in a ponytail squared up to fight. “How did you sleep?”
“Also, like shit,” Jia grumbled, her eyes also on the new girl. “My next-door neighbor not only had a disgusting amount of sex last night, but he also sounds like an ox when he snores.”
Ror snickered and watched as the new girl surprisingly kept pace with the instructor.
The instructor had solid skills with only a mid-range of expertise. Nothing special, but he was consistent and had a flawless basic technique. He’d taken a few Contestars to the mat and flattened them.
“That girl has had House Alloy Special Forces training, Ror.”
Jia was right. The girl was attacking and dodging in a very characteristically Alloy way, and it made Rorax let out a little groan.
Depending on how much training that girl had, and if she knew what she was looking for, she would figure Rorax out.
“That one over there? The Lowborn with the long black braid?” Jia jerked her chin, motioning to two Contestars sparring across the training field. “That one knows the Dance of the Harpy.”
Rorax looked over at the girl Jia had gestured to and grunted. “Her name is Enna.” The Dance of the Harpy was a defensive sword dance, training the defender to move and evade like water.
They’d stopped teaching it to Heilstorms over 200 years ago because of its inefficiency, but it was still an interesting technique.
Ror moved her eyes back to the girl and the instructor. “What about the girl with the long violent white scar gnarled down the left side of her face?”
Jia slowly looked from one Contestar to the next. “The platinum blonde girl with the tan skin, the Lowborn?”
“Yeah.”
“She’s scrappy and has that vicious ferocity only people who’ve had to fight and claw to survive have. Keep an eye on her.”
The door to the keep slammed loudly, and it was only Jia’s tiny intake of breath that gave Rorax any warning as she looked over her shoulder.
Seeing Isgra swagger across the courtyard felt like a punch to the kidneys. Isgra, all six-two of her, was covered in dark brown leather armor. She had a broadsword strapped to her back, and her golden blonde hair was braided to the side of her head.
Just like Volla used to style her hair.
“New blood, you’re up!”
Jia elbowed Ror in the shoulder, and her attention snapped to her instructor who was waiting for her, bouncing on his toes.
Rorax wanted to get something out of this experience. So, from all the wooden weapons laid out on the rack, she chose a wooden mace.
The instructor raised his eyebrows. “Interesting choice. There wasn’t anything else that caught your eye?”
She scrunched her nose at him. “No . . . everything is made of wood, it barely matters.”
He blinked at her before shrugging and getting in position. Out of the corner of her eye she watched as Isgra crossed the courtyard to where Jia stood.
Fuck.
Rorax gripped the mace tighter in her left hand, her non-dominant hand, and squared up. The instructor made the first move, his wooden sword lunging for her unprotected side. He was slow, almost hesitant, like he was sparring with a child he didn’t want to hurt.
Rorax would have been amused if she hadn’t been so distracted. She raised her mallet across her body and blocked the incoming blow. The wooden mallet vibrated unhappily in her hands, and the instructor immediately went into an explanation on why a direct block might not be the best choice here, but Rorax barely listened.
Isgra had slid in next to Jia. She was saying something to her, but Ror couldn’t hear what. Rorax looked over to see Jia’s cheeks turn pink as she looked up at Isgra.
“Ready?”
She snapped back to her instructor, trying not to grind her teeth. “Yes, let’s go.”
“Remember to try and dodge or deflect instead of taking it head on,” the instructor urged.
He lunged again, and this time she dodged backwards.
“That’s great.” The instructor beamed. “Let’s try to deflect now.”
Rorax had already turned back to Jia and Isgra in time to see Jia’s face as it crumpled and Isgra’s triumphant sneer.
“Hey, are you ready?” the instructor complained, annoyed he didn’t have her complete attention.
She turned her body back to him, a muscle in her jaw twitching. “Yeah, ready.”
He lunged, and quick as a whip she blocked him dead on, twirled, and gave him a swift jab right in his nose. The instructor dropped to the ground like a rock, but Rorax was already halfway across the courtyard where Isgra and Jia were standing before he even hit the ground.
Jia was inches from the grave as it was. Her will to live was about as strong as a single strand of hair, and Rorax knew—could feel it in her bones—that if she let Isgra bite into her here, Jia wouldn’t make it. Rorax would lose her, too.
Isgra saw Rorax just as she closed in, her face morphing into a surprised gasp before Rorax smashed the two top knuckles of her fist into the bridge of Isgra’s nose.
Tears immediately sprung into Isgra’s eyes, and she doubled over in pain.
Big mistake.
Rorax grabbed Isgra’s bent head and bashed it violently into her knee.
Isgra screamed in pain and stumbled back. Rorax took the opportunity and used Isgra’s already backward momentum to trip her. Isgra sprawled back and Rorax threw herself on top, straddling Isgra’s chest and trapping her arms under Ror’s knees.
Rorax had broken Isgra’s nose, and the blow from Rorax’s knee had cut open Isgra’s left eyebrow. The split was now draining blood into her eye. Isgra tried to surge up, to move her torso to unseat Rorax from where she straddled her, but she cowed back down when Rorax threw an elbow like a punch across Isgra’s right temple.
“Do you remember what I said to you yesterday?” Rorax hissed, her face savage with anger and pain.
Isgra jerked from underneath Ror, seething. “You fucking crazy bitch.”
“Wasn’t that.” Vaguely, Rorax saw Jia standing guard over them, daring any of the horrified onlookers to try and break up the fight. No one made a move to stop them. “Guess again,” Rorax urged.
Isgra kept her mouth shut, so Rorax gripped Isgra’s chin hard. “What. Did. I. Say?”
“You can’t kill me. You would die.” She spluttered; her eyes slightly wild. “Volla would never forgive you for it.”
Rorax laughed bitterly, raking one sharp fingernail down Isgra’s forehead before pressing her fingers into the cut on her eyebrow. Isgra hissed in pain and jerked her face away from Ror. “If you really think that then you never knew her. Volla would kill me if she knew I had allowed someone to talk to her mate like that. She loved Jia more than she ever loved anyone. More than she ever loved you.”
Isgra went dead still, and Rorax felt Isgra’s rage and hurt building in her chest, the skin underneath her getting hot.
Volla had told Rorax a long time ago that Isgra feared her own power, was uncertain of it, so Rorax grinned. “Let it out, Little Isgra. Let it out to play. You can’t handle me now, so let’s see if you can take me on with a little boost.”
Rorax winked, and Isgra exploded. Rorax could in her eyes the split second Isgra decided to let loose and crossed her arms over her face as Isgra breathed fire at Ror with so much force it knocked her head over heels.
Rorax hit the ground stomach first, the breath whooshing out of her, but pounced up to her feet just in time to see Isgra slugging a fireball straight for her chest.
Rorax flung herself into a back handspring just under the fireball as it blazed overhead. There were screams from the crowd behind her as the fireball hit something, but Rorax didn’t have time to look. She pulled two knives out of her hair, danced around two other fireballs Isgra hurled at her, and threw the knives one after the other, aiming for Isgra’s feet. Isgra dodged one knife, but the other hit home, and Isgra howled in pain.
Rorax used the distraction to sprint forward, dodged one more fireball, and lunged to tackle Isgra to the ground again.
Isgra’s burning hands wrapped around Rorax’s biceps, melting through leather, and searing into her skin as Rorax bit back an agonized scream of pain.
Who are you?The Wolf’s soft voice whispered in her ear.
Rorax Greywood.
What does that mean?
It means I do not feel pain.
Rorax grabbed Isgra’s wrists, yanking her hands away and moved to pin Isgra’s arms above her head.
Isgra was too strong for that, and it forced a stalemate. Rorax hovered directly over Isgra’s head.
Isgra”s green eyes clouded over with the color of flame, and she opened her mouth to breathe more fire directly into Rorax’s face.
Rorax jerked away from Isgra’s hands and, quick as a snake, walloped her across the cut on her temple again, this time with her fist. Then again.
Isgra screamed at the third impact, Rorax beating against the already present wound, and Isgra’s back arched off the ground in agony. With Isgra distracted, Rorax leaned around and plucked her knife out of Isgra’s foot and whipped around to press it under Isgra’s chin. Isgra stilled mid-scream when she felt the blade under her chin, staring up at Ror with incredulous eyes.
Rorax moved closer. “Back to my question, Little Isgra. What did I say to you yesterday?”
“You’re a monster. Just like her.” She whimpered, barely holding back a sob.
Rorax sliced into the skin under Isgra’s chin, and her eyes went wide with horror.
“You . . . you said that if I . . . talked to her . . . you would . . . you would . . .” She swallowed, and more tears started to flow down her cheeks.
Rorax gripped Isgra’s chin, pressing deep into the skin that was covered in blood so Isgra wouldn’t be tempted to bite her. She lowered herself down to Isgra’s ear to whisper, “I told you that if you tested me, I would beat your skull until it’s pulp.”
Isgra’s whole body started to tremble underneath Ror.
If Isgra hadn’t believed that Ror would follow through with her threat before, there was something about Ror’s tone that made her absolutely certain now.
Rorax sat up and looked down at the woman beneath her. “Let me make this perfectly clear for you, Isgra, since you didn’t seem to understand me before. You don’t talk to me, or her.” Rorax pointed at Jia. “Ever. Leave us alone, and I’ll leave you alone.”
Isgra sent Jia a venomous glare, before her green eyes—the exact same shade as Volla’s—snapped back up. Rorax tried to ignore her heart punching painfully in her chest.
“I don’t want to hear one more venomous word come out of your mouth, or I will saw your jaw off right before I kill you. I have nothing to lose, Isgra. This is more important to me than death, understand that now.”
Isgra deflated under her, looking away. “Okay.”
“Okay, what?” Rorax urged.
She squeezed her eyes shut. “I will leave you alone.”
Rorax patted Isgra on the cheek, and her eyes squeezed shut even tighter. “Good girl.”
Rorax climbed off Isgra to find the whole courtyard staring at her with open mouths and wide eyes. Even the instructor, whom Ror had knocked out before attacking Isgra, was sitting up and staring at her. There were black scorch marks on the stone where Isgra’s fireballs had hit, but nothing else seemed to have been damaged.
The only one not looking at Ror was Jia, who had tears dripping down her cheeks as she stared at Isgra.
Rorax gripped Jia’s shoulder and forced her to turn away just as armed guards barreled into the Contestars” Courtyard from the battlement.
Rorax recognized one as he came to stand toe to toe with her. Captain Lamonte, the Guardian’s right-hand man. “We saw a fight; what the hell is goin’ on?”
“Isgra,” Ror called to her, not looking away from Lamonte’s face. “Care to tell Captain Lamonte what was going on?” The threat in her voice was clear as day.
“N-nothing,” Isgra squeezed out, her voice thick with tears she desperately tried not to shed. “Nothing. Nothing’s going on. We were practicing. We’re fine.”
Lamonte eyed Rorax for a long moment, before looking over her shoulder at Isgra then back down to Ror.
“The Guardian’s not gonna be happy ‘bout this when she hears,” he said in a low voice.
“Probably not, but I also think it would take a hell of a lot to make that woman happy.”
Lamonte didn’t seem to disagree with that statement. She stepped around him, jerking her head at Jia. “Come on.”
When they passed by the instructor, she looked down at him. “Still think that Morningstar isn’t sexy?”