Page 72 of Soul Forge

“And what if it’s what I want as well?” he asked, his eyes glued to the fae. When Elda didn’t answer, he nodded. “Go rest. I’ve got a jaw to break.”

“So are we doing this, or what? I’ve been waiting for a chance to work through our differences,” Lillian goaded.

“And I’ve been waiting for a chance to punch you,” the Soul Forge growled. “You can keep your sword if you want. It won’t help either way.”

She flashed another sultry smile. Her hips swayed with every step, a taunt thrown at Sypher. After what she did to him, it set Elda’s blood boiling. Reiner took her arm and moved her backwards, taking her towards the safety of the garden edge. It took every ounce of restraint not to yank herself out of the ex-captain’s grip when Lillian took another step towards the Soul Forge.

“You think I’ve lost my touch?” Lillian asked, arching a blue eyebrow at him and drawing her katana. The blade gleamed, reflecting the garden in its polished surface.

“No.” Sypher’s eyes flattened until there was barely a hint of fire left in them, revealing the demon soul very close to the surface. He cracked his knuckles, and a shiver ran down Elda’s spine. He bared his teeth in a savage grin. “But you and I have a score to settle.”

Sypher wasted no time, stalking across the space and throwing a punch that could crack stone. His movements were so fast, there was no time to dodge, and the fae could only turn, so his fist struck her shoulder instead of her face. Elda gasped when Lillian ricocheted off Sypher’s knuckles and hit the dirt.

The sixth wielder rolled away and found her feet, her katana flashing. She raised it high, bringing it down in a diagonal slash that, impossibly, cut through the air itself. Elda’s jaw hung at the hinge when Lillian stepped inside the tear it created andvanished. It closed behind her, the pressure shifting in Elda’s ears when it sealed up.

Sypher stood in the centre of the garden, perfectly still, the wind ruffling the pale strands of hair falling over his forehead. A thousand worries ran through Elda’s mind in the few seconds it took for Lillian to make her move. What if she sprang from somewhere and cut off his head? What if he misjudged and killed her? Would cutting him with her katana open him up the same way it did the atmosphere? Would he even be able to heal from that?

The princess bit down on her lip when she felt that shift in pressure again, only seeing where Lillian popped out of her portal when Sypher turned and gripped her around the throat, his other hand stopping her wrist before her weapon could cleave through him. The fae let out a snarl and slammed her heel down towards his foot, successfully distracting him enough to slip his hold and give herself some room.

“You’ve not lost your touch,” she remarked. “I thought time might slow you down.”

“You talk too much.” He darted forwards, spun, and hooked a boot around her legs, sweeping them from under her. Her back hit the dirt again, but she sprang right back up and brandished her blade.

Another slice through the air took her away from his fists. Elda tried to predict where she might appear, looking for a shift in the air, a ripple, anything that might give her away. But there was nothing save for the vague pressure change pushing against her eardrums.

Yet Sypher seemed to know where she’d be. He was there to meet her, deflecting her blade with the flat of his palm and slamming the heel of his free hand into her solar plexus. It was clear that, during their training sessions, he’d been going easy on the princess.Veryeasy.

Lillian’s movements quickened, each blow aiming for a fatality. Elda’s heart pounded in her throat when the sharp tip of the katana missed Sypher’s jugular by an inch, but nobody else was panicking when she glanced around.

Reiner stood beside her with her arms folded, watching the fight like a teacher studying her students. Gira had his hands on his hips, frowning whenever Lillian’s katana lopped the heads off his flowers. Julian was grinning, shifting his weight from foot to foot, hand twitching as though he were throwing the punches himself.

Elda forced her fists to unclench, fingers aching when they flexed. The moment she saw Sypher duck under a jaw-breaking roundhouse kick, they balled up again. Lillian spun like a dancer, toes pointed, back arching with all the grace the fae were famous for, and her katana finally found purchase across Sypher’s thigh.

“First blood is mine,” she chimed. Her next move was just as fast. She was beautiful and deadly, a breath of wind with a razor edge. She got Sypher on the defensive, forcing him to block.

“Stupid,” Reiner muttered, but Elda wasn’t sure if she meant the Soul Forge or his opponent. She couldn’t draw in the breath to ask. When Lillian giggled and narrowly avoided taking Sypher’s eye, another sigh came from the captain.

“Are they actually trying to kill each other?” Elda managed to gasp at last, forcing the question out around the tightness in her chest.

“She is, he isn’t,” Reiner answered, frowning.

“Why wouldn’t he go for the kill if he knows that’s what she’s doing?”

“She knows he’ll heal,” Gira remarked, slotting himself into the conversation. “He knows she won’t.” Elda saw his brow furrow when more of his plants fell victim to the fighting. “They need to settle the bad blood if Sypher ever intends to move past what happened between them. I just wish they’d watch my flowers.”

“They’re sofast,” Elda mumbled, watching Sypher drop his shoulder and slam it into Lillian’s stomach, twisting to toss her over his back and onto the ground. She managed to get her feet on the grass, absorbing the impact with her knees and delivering a lightning-fast jab to his kidney that gave her enough room to get away from him.

“This is what you’re up against, Princess,” Reiner answered simply. “You’re going to need to hold your own against himif you want to live through whatever calamity the Spirits have chosen you to fight.”

The response died on Elda’s tongue, fear settling in her chest. There was no way she’d be able to fight like that. She grew up in a palace. She’d learned the most basic self-defence techniques whenever Reiner could get away to show her, but it wasnothingcompared to the savage dance Sypher and Lillian engaged in.

You’re going to die, the voice of doubt whispered.

Lillian opened a gaping black split in the atmosphere and hopped into it again, not pausing to play with him this time. She stepped out of another portal behind Sypher before the first one had even properly closed, aiming for his spine with her blade. He skipped forwards to dodge her swipe, then turned and slammed a vicious kick into the side of her knee. Lillian cried out and dropped, grunting when his elbow crashed down on her shoulder blade, driving her into the grass. She rolled before he could pin her, slamming the hilt of her weapon into his temple.

Elda’s nails bit into her palms when he staggered, but he was on his feet before Lillian could move in for the kill. They circled each other, her smiling, him expressionless, and Elda watched the fae’s grin widen at the thin trickle of blood that dripped from the fresh cut at the edge of his eyebrow.

“Maybe you have lost your touch, after all,” she teased, her laughter like the chime of a silver bell.

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