51. Rorax
Despite everything that happened last night and not returning to her bed until the early hours of the morning, Rorax was still awake right before sunrise. She pulled on her leathers and boots slowly before gathering her knives and her other effects.
Jia was waiting for her in the hallway, and from the way her purple eyes squinted as they gave her the once over, it was obvious she’d heard one of the Contestars had been murdered last night. A House of Death guard had been stationed outside her door and eyed Jia warily. Rorax didn’t know if she was insulted or flattered, they’d only given her one guard.
“Go get some breakfast, soldier,” Rorax told the guard. “And go get some sleep. I’m safe with her.”
“I’m . . . not a guard. I’m a messenger.” The guard must have seen Jia’s performance during the Tournament of Houses because he gave her a wary look. “The Prince and the Death Emissary have requested your presence for breakfast. They’ll meet you in the mess hall.”
“Oh,” Rorax said wearily. “Understood.”
The messenger bowed and scurried down the hall.
“Any word on what happened last night?” Rorax asked as Jia peeled herself from the wall and moved down the stairs with Rorax.
“It was Claira, the Lowborn who was supposed to be under the protection of the House of Water. Kiniera said her throat had been slit while she was in her bed.” Jia shook her head. “House of Water is again proving themselves to be useless in all things,” she grumbled.
“Does anyone have any idea who did it?” Rorax asked.
Jia shook her head. “No. Fauna couldn’t find a scent. So, either Water washed it away to hide something, or the assassin was very careful. None of the Guardian’s men saw anything or anybody during the time of the influx either. Without any witnesses or scents to identify who was in the room with her, there isn’t much that can be done.”
Captain Lamonte and his men could ask around, but the Houses would all vouch for each other, providing alibis.
“All of the other Contestars were subdued, and there were no other fatalities,” Jia reported.
“If House of Water going to move to another Contestar?”
“They announced this morning they are backing Mo, the House of Earth Contestar.”
“Fuck,” Rorax hissed. The last thing they needed was the House of Earth gaining more power here.
Rorax pushed open the doors to the mess hall and froze.
Lieutenant Jackass, Cannon, and Kaiya all sat around a table in the back of the room on the left side, on the opposite side from where she and Jia usually sat. They all watched Rorax and Jia with wary eyes.
They were each dressed in their fighting leathers, their weapons strapped to them. The captain’s fighting leathers crept all the way up to his jaw, but Cannon’s . . . Cannon’s leathers stopped at his collar bone, displaying the dark ten-pointed star that scarred his dark, ebony skin.
Rorax’s mouth went dry as shame gripped her.
“You certainly know how to pick the warmest, most welcoming crowds,” Jia muttered from beside her.
“It’s a talent.” Rorax sucked in a deep breath and steeled her spine as she walked over to their table.
“Well, isn’t this a nice surprise,” Rorax deadpanned, taking them all in.
“I see almost killing our prince yesterday hasn’t made you any more pleasant, Pup.” Kaiya sneered, and Rorax’s cheeks went hot.
“We’re here because we want to help you train,” Ayres cut in, crossing his arms over his leather clad chest. “You haven’t fought in any serious altercations. If the Realms go to war, you wouldn’t be of any use to anyone on the front lines.”
Indignation made Rorax grind her teeth as she sat down next to Kaiya, opposite Ayres. Jia slid in next to her. “Okay, so what’s the plan?”
“Have breakfast with us and then we will go down to the arena,” Ayres told her.
A maid came scurrying to the table, bringing two additional plates of food.
Jia dug in, but Rorax simply stared down at the plate not quite understanding. After last night, were they really going to ensure that she was fed properly before a workout?
“It isn’t poisoned.” Kaiya pulled her cup up to her mouth. “Not today, anyway.”
Rorax gave her a look, then started to peel the orange that had been set in front of her.
Kaiya turned her attention to Jia. “So, we know Rorax is the ruthless contract killer. What was your rolefor the Heilstorms?”
Jia grinned around a mouthful of food. “I guess I’ll have to show you.”
“She could steal the crown off a greedy king’s head,” Rorax said.
“Perfect. A butcher and a thief,” Kaiya said, sneering. “So, tell me, how did you get into your profession? A young orphan who had to steal to eat?”
Rorax snorted at the same time Jia grinned mischievously at Kaiya. “Neither. I just like to steal.”
The Frostguard family was one of the wealthiest and most respected families in the Realms. Rumor was they lived in a goldsteel gilded mansion.
“Her older brother Ye-Jun said the first time he held her she stole the diamond nose ring right out of his nose.” Rorax snorted. “He didn’t even notice until he found it when he was cleaning it out of her diaper a day later.”
Ayres narrowed his eyes at them, and Cannon watched with a smirk.
Kaiya eyed Rorax’s plate that had nothing but fruit, meat, and vegetables. “Do you eat like that every day, Contestar?”
Rorax raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“Here Rorax, try this.” Jia reached over and plucked a sweet orange roll off Kaiya’s plate. She smiled and Rorax didn’t miss how Kaiya stared at Jia’s lips for a second too long.
Rorax had never had an orange roll before. The Wolf had deemed sweets and pastries ‘unnecessary’ to her diet. Sahana had taught Rorax how to read and how to dance and so many things about life, but they had never really explored foods before. They spent most of their time on the road. Hesitantly, Rorax took the roll from Jia, ignoring the sound of protest that Kaiya made. Rorax took a bite, and her eyes went wide as the taste and sweetness rolled over her tongue.
“Wow,” Rorax said, mumbling and staring down at the soft, flaky dough with wonder. She was never going to eat anything else ever again. It was divine.
Kaiya reached out her hand to take the roll back, but Rorax held it away. “I’m never sharing again.”
Around her, they all laughed and the icy air that hung around the table earlier seemed to melt away into something a bit more comfortable, something that felt like the beginnings of comradery.
After breakfast, they made their way down to the empty arena, and Rorax felt the comfortable feeling fade.
“How much exposure do you have in open war combat and heavy armor?” Ayres asked, turning to Rorax and holding his arms across his chest.
“None,” she told him hesitantly.
Cannon, the man with the ten-pointed star caught her eye.
How many soldiers have you been paired against in training simulations? Cannon signed, his hands moving.
Usually, I cap out at five but have been successful against groups of seven, depending on the weaponry. Rorax signed back. She hesitated, rubbing her thumb over her ring, but decided to trust them. But . . . I’ve taken out groups of fifty at a time . . . using my knife.
Ayres”s eyes flashed. “Your knife?”
Rorax glanced over at Jia, who just gave her a nod. Ayres needed to know, or he would never be able to protect his people from her.
“When I was born, I was connected with one of the Sestera Blades,” Rorax said, signing and watching carefully as Cannon and Ayres went pale.
Which one?
“Glimr.”
“What is that?” Kaiya asked, her gaze bouncing from Rorax, to Cannon and Ayres, and back.
“That first night I met you . . . in the woods . . .” Ayres stared; his eyes wide.
“You were stepping on it at first, on my back,” Rorax half growled. “I couldn’t summon it.”
Can we see? Cannon asked, taking a step forward.
Rorax nodded and summoned her knife to her palm. All three of them flinched at its sudden appearance, but then moved closer.
“What’s a Sestera Blade?” Kaiya asked.
Kaiya reached out to touch it, but Jia stepped forward and slapped her hand back. “Touch it and you’ll regret it, I promise.”
Kaiya hissed but retracted her hand to her side. “What do you mean?”
“It burns anyone who tries to use it who isn’t me,” Rorax explained, turning it over in her hands, showing off the intricately welded handle and wickedly sharp edges. “A Sestera Blade is a weapon given to the Gifted by the gods. I can move it with my mind. I don’t hold any other magick except for this.”
They are made from starsteel,Cannon sighed, his eyes wide. There are only three other Sestera Blades that exist. The gods only granted the Gifted four, and it’s believed they’ve all been lost through the ages. Until now.
“Who bound this to you? Where did they find it?’ Ayres asked, his gaze moving up from the knife to her face.
“I don’t know where he found it,” Rorax shrugged. “But my brother, Darras, is the one who bound it to me when I was born.”
Cannon squinted at her. Why do they call you the Spine Cleaver?
Rorax looked at Jia, who grinned back at her. Jia nocked an arrow and shot it straight in the air.
Rorax threw her knife, backhanded and across her body, so she could still use her fingers to point the knife where the arrow flew in the air.
They heard a soft snick, and then the wood of the arrow caught the wind and floated away while the metal arrowhead plummeted straight back down. The arrowhead thumped softly in the grass at Rorax’s feet, cleanly severed from the rest of the shaft.
Rorax bent and picked it up, tossing the arrowhead to Cannon before signing again. “The knife is extremely accurate, so I aim for the neck. For most things—most people—it’s a one-shot kill.”
All three of the House of Death soldiers gawked at the arrowhead resting in Cannon’s palm.
“What are the limitations?” Kaiya asked, her throat sounding dry and raspy as she looked back and forth from Rorax to the arrowhead. “There are some limitations on it . . . right?”
Jia snorted a laugh behind her as Rorax nodded. “I usually only throw it with the same strength that I would normally throw a knife. I can amplify the thrust behind it with magick, but I only hold so much power. I can sever around fifty spinal columns or penetrate twenty or so chest plates before I get tapped out.”
Have you tested its accuracy over long distances? Cannon asked, and Rorax nodded.
“It’s accurate for as long as I can see it. Once it reaches around a half a mile though it gives me a headache.” She reached up and touched her temples lightly with her fingers. “I feel the strain here.”
Ayres nodded, rubbing a hand over the stubble starting to grow around his jaw. “That sounds like any magick when you’re about to tap out.”
“How do we defend against something like that? When you influx?” Kaiya asked, worry straining her voice. “It’s a miracle the prince survived; that you didn’t run him through.”
Rorax’s cheeks burned with shame, but she looked Kaiya in the eye and agreed. “It is a miracle. I wanted to; the influx wanted to . . . release. It wanted to prove how strong it was. It wanted blood and it wanted to kill the prince,” she admitted with a shiver running through her shoulders. “I had just enough cognizance not to do it—but just barely and the influxes will only get stronger from here.”
Rorax looked up at Ayres to find him already watching her, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “Can we lock it in a box?” he asked.
Rorax bit back a despairing groan. “Yes . . . but it would need to be locked in a Black Salt box. Otherwise, it will reappear in my hand when I walk away. I don’t have one, and I don’t even know where to find one.”
Ayres blew out a breath. “We have one, in the House of Death Artifact Vault.” He turned to Kaiya. “Will you go tell Milla to send a hawk out to the Queen? If we want to survive this, we need that box.”
Kaiya turned and jogged out of the arena without a word.
“We need to get you fitted for a full set of heavy armor,” Ayres said, cracking his neck to the side. “We will go into Bafta tomorrow and get you sized.”
Rorax swallowed hard, then nodded her consent.
I’ll be spearheading your training, Cannon said from beside Ayres. So, get warmed up and then show me what you can do.