Page 30 of Whispers of the Water

She swung her sword as though to punctuate her words, and the tip barely grazed Newt’s ankle. He hissed and bit his lip as tears welled up in his eyes, but he kept his shoulders back and head held high next to his mother. Greshim glanced warily from his twin to his mother to us. The warning was clear. If Myra didn’t see real fighting soon, there would be consequences.

Rune gritted his teeth and turned to me again, and I nearly wobbled when I saw his eyes clouding in desperation. We were being backed into a corner, and our options to get free unscathed were growing slim. His expression seemed to plead with mine, reminding me of his earlier instructions.

You’re going to have to fight me. You won’t hurt me, so don’t hold back.

Biting the inside of my lip with my fox canines, I steeled myself for my next move. Darting forward, I faked an attack from the left side, and while Rune raised an arm to block it, I delivered a blow on the right, my claws slashing four gashes into his neck. Blood seeped from the razor thin marks, and I bit back a whimper. Hurting Rune, seeing him injured and bleeding, caused me physical pain, and it was that shock to my system that made me miss Rune’s fist coming at me.

His knuckles slammed into my midsection, making me double over as the wind was knocked right out of me. Rune’s eyes flashed in alarm, because he no doubt expected me to avoid his attack, but he also couldn’t stop to check on me. Not with Myra still watching and Newt right there for her to use against us. Rune’s leg swung toward me, aimed to smash into my face from where I was doubled over, but thankfully, he moved just slow enough for me to anticipate it. I rolled to the side, avoiding the blow, and I pushed past the throbbing in my stomach to stand.

At the same time, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. My stomach pitched forward as I saw Myra slowly lifting her sword, the tip inches away from Newt. His tear-filled eyes followed the blade as it moved from his feet, up toward his chest. Myra still wasn’t satisfied, and she was ready to push for more.

Desperate to satisfy her somehow, I swung my fist at Rune’s face, but he caught it in one hand as the other snapped out to grip me by the throat. The air moving through my lungs froze, and my wide eyes locked on Rune’s frantic gaze. A thousand emotions flashed across them, the next more potent than the last—alarm, hopelessness, anguish. Myra knew he couldn’t refuse this battle or turn against her with the immediate threat to his brothers still present. He was at a loss as his mother forced him to choose—his brother or me. His arm trembled, and I fought for air and a way out of this for the both of us.

Thinking on my feet, I gripped Rune’s shirt with fumbling fingers and yanked him forward, until his mouth pressed to mine. His body went rigid at my abrupt kiss, but his grip on my neck loosened enough for air to snake its way back into my lungs. Rune groaned as I deepened the kiss, and with his sudden lapse in attention, I quickly pulled away and dropped down, swinging my leg out as I did. Rune’s legs went out from under him, and he smacked onto the mats with a grunt. Before he could recover, I climbed on top of him and slammed my fist into his chest over his heart and gave a twist.

It was the move we’d practiced for so long when training together, the one that would be a deadly strike to an opponent had I been wielding a dagger. This fact wouldn’t be lost on Myra, which meant this battle was over. Recognition flared in Rune’s eyes as his chest rose and fell heavily beneath my hand.

Giving him a faint smile, I found myself repeating the same words from those happier moments long ago. “You shouldn’t get distracted when in a fight. Isn’t that Basic Fighting 101?”

Rune’s eyes closed, and the deep rumble of his laugh made my heart sing. Much like before, he suddenly grabbed my arms and rolled to pin me beneath him. He swallowed hard as he stared down at me, and an ache that was almost tangible seemed to grip his features as he leaned down to press his forehead to mine. “Are you okay?” he whispered.

I nodded slowly, focusing on the warmth and weight of his body pressing to mine. It was a reminder that we were both still here. We were both okay. Rattled, but okay.

I glanced at Myra from between Rune’s hair, which mostly shielded our faces from view. I found her sword hanging limply by her side as she stared at us with much the same look she had worn back in the sitting room. Whatever she saw in Rune and me right now made her leave the present for some distant memory, and she became a wilted flower.

“Is it a draw?” Greshim asked, as he subtly grabbed Newt’s hand and pulled him closer to his side.

Myra seemed to snap out of whatever head space she’d been in as Rune got to his feet. He offered me his hand, which I took.

“It wasn’t a draw,” Rune answered. “Bria won, though she cheated to do it.” He smirked and nudged me in the side.

Laughing, I placed my hands on my hips and raised a brow. “Sounds like something a sore loser would say.”

We came to stand in front of Myra, whose face had been stripped of all emotion. Her seemingly lifeless eyes glanced between the two of us.

“I think that’s enough sparring for today,” Rune said evenly as he addressed Myra. “Don’t you?”

Myra’s eyes narrowed a fraction. “For now.”

She returned the sword to its place on the wall, and our group watched as she retreated up the stairs the way we’d come. As soon as she disappeared, I bent down to look at Newt’s ankle where Myra had cut him. The cut had already healed, which made the tightness in my chest ease a fraction. That meant the wound hadn’t been severe.

“Thank you, Bria,” Greshim said.

I looked at him in surprise. “For what?”

“For fighting so that we didn’t have to.”

Offering him a warm smile, I placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “Of course. I just wish there was more I could do.”

“We’re fine,” Greshim said with a wave of his hand. “Mother can be loud and expects a lot at times, but she’s teaching us to be strong warriors. It’s rare for her to hand out physical punishments.”

“Yeah,” Newt said as he rubbed at his healed ankle. “She’s only extra strict and m-m-mean when big broth-ther or fath-ther are around. Oth-therwise, she m-m-mostly ignores m-me.”

Rune’s face fell as though he’d been gutted. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Greshim said quickly, reaching up to grab Rune’s hand. “We love it when you come into town.”

“We really m-m-miss you when you aren’t here,” Newt said as he leaned in to hug his older brother.

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