Page 68 of The Sundered Blade

“Perhaps that is what I once was,” Karreya allowed, “but no longer. I am my own. But I am also… a friend. An ally. A person, not a weapon.”

“You have only ever been a weapon,” Inci said. “It is why you were born. It is the reason you have been trained. And a weapon is meant to be wielded.”

“You are wrong,” Karreya insisted, a part of her screaming at her own temerity in speaking against the woman who had ruled every aspect of her life for so long. And yet, it was as if some invisible weight had fallen away from her heart, allowing her to see and to speak truths that had always been there.

“I am meant to make those decisions for myself, for good or for ill. I am meant to make difficult choices and bear the consequences. And I choose not to go with you. If I ever return to the Empire, it should be of my own will, and in my own time. Not to resume my place at the Enclave. I could no longer be content in that life, and I will not continue to kill to support Grandmother’s ambitions.”

“It is a selfish choice,” Inci said, her voice grown cold and hard. “And if you think to take refuge here, then know that you cannot hide. This city is even now under attack by a full battalion of the Empress’s chosen, together with a company of combat mages under the direction of Third General Urquadi. We have brought three war dragons, and they have destroyed everything in our path as we made our way to this place. Do you truly believe there is any power in this degenerate land that can stop us from laying waste to their so-called ‘Thrones’?”

“I do.” And as Karreya watched the spasm of doubt that crossed Inci’s stern features, she wondered whether she had not been so successful at hiding her magic as she had once believed.

“The people of these lands have learned to work together,” Karreya continued, holding herself loosely poised as she spoke. Expecting an attack at any moment. “They care for one another. Forgive one another’s failures. Act for the good of others and not themselves alone. And perhaps most important of all, they do not collar those who have magic and treat them as less than human.”

“They are weak,” Inci sneered.

“And yet they will defeat you.”

“That will do you no good in the end,” Inci replied, and struck.

Karreya had known it was coming, and yet it was almost a shock after being absent from the Enclave for so long. She had encountered little challenge since landing on these shores, and so the ferocity of Inci’s attack knocked her backwards and reminded her of what it felt like to fear.

But that fear was a force that made her stronger, faster, better, and she welcomed it. Embraced it. Danced along its razor edge and freed her instincts from the chains that bound them.

For the first time since coming to Abreia, she could fight without holding herself back, and it was with a rush of exhilaration that she crossed blades with the woman who had made her what she was.

They fought with daggers, with hands and feet, with speed and lethal intent. Ducking, slashing, sliding, breathing with focus and letting the rhythm of that deadly dance guide each strike. There was no sand underfoot, no curious onlookers, only the golden stone, the smoke, and the sounds of chaos from beyond the gates. All of which faded into nothing as the fight intensified.

Karreya was younger and faster, with greater stamina. But Inci was wily and experienced, taller, and with a greater reach. It was not whimsy that had made her preceptress of the Enclave—it was sheer, deadly skill, and Karreya knew that she was never more than a single heartbeat from death. Her lungs burned, both from smoke and exertion, and still they circled.

Inci’s free hand moved—almost too fast to be seen—and one of her belt knives flashed through the air, leaving a stinging trail across Karreya’s upper arm.

Blood soaked her sleeve, not enough to incapacitate, but enough to weaken over time.

“First blood,” Inci murmured. “You are finished, Little One. Admit defeat, bow to the Empress’s will, and no one ever need know of your defiance.”

“Do not disrespect your own words,” Karreya ground out, teeth clenched against the pain. “Have you not taught me that quitting is the first and worst form of failure?”

She could not last much longer, though—Inci was correct about that. It was time to end the fight, one way or another, and for an instant, Niell’s mocking grin flashed through her memory. The way he took bold risks, using audacity as his greatest weapon…

Karreya smiled and threw her dagger directly at Inci’s face. The older woman slapped it away and darted forward, but Karreya was already inside her guard. A moment later, they stood locked together, blades at one another’s throats, frozen in a deadly embrace.

“Are you ready to kill me?” Karreya challenged. “Ready to risk your Empress’s wrath?”

“You have grown soft,” Inci spat, displaying anger for the first time Karreya could recall. “I did not train you to show mercy.”

“Then perhaps we are both failures,” Karreya told her. “Or perhaps we are both women who deserve to make our own choices, rather than staining our hands with the choices of others.”

They were pressed so tightly together, Karreya could feel the harsh breaths as Inci gasped for air. The steady thud of the other woman’s heart. Could see the small shifts of emotion as her brown eyes locked on Karreya’s face.

“There are no choices, Little One. Not for me.”

The dagger in her hand shifted ever so slightly, and Karreya knew she’d lost. But she did not flinch, only stood tall, never dropping her gaze, meeting whatever might come with courage as she waited for the kiss of the silver blade against her skin…

But all she felt was the soft, cool slide of silk.

Inci jerked backward with an oath, opening her hand and allowing a silken handkerchief to fall to the stones at her feet.

“It seems little has changed in twenty-seven years, Avincia.”

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