Page 38 of The Night Prince

“Yes,dead, jadir,” Vulre hissed.His volcanic eyes glowed hotly and a smile lifted the corners of his mouth.

Let go.Let go!LET GO!

Declan let out a laugh, sharp and bitter that had Vulre growling, but he didn’t care.“I may be dead, but so areyou.”

He pushed the sharp edge of his dagger against Vulre’s unprotected throat.Vulre grunted.The smile was gone.They stared at one another in silence.And the wheels in each of their heads turned.

In Declan’s, he knew that to kill Vulre… where would that lead?He would lose his place at the Venomthorn.Lady Ashryn would never forgive him.The other teachers and novices would hunt him down.He would not only be jadir, but truly dead.Forever dead.With no one and nothing, not even this little speck of life.

For Vulre, the loss would be less certain, Declan thought.He doubted that Lady Ashryn would believe he ran away.And her powers would have allowed her to find him.Or his body if Vulre took his life.And though he was jadir, for some reason, Lady Ashryn didn’t treat him as such.

“So two dead men!How very typical for our people,” a female voice rose up behind Declan.“Victory in defeat!”

Declan twisted his head around to see her, but Vulre chose that moment to drop him.Declan just managed to land on his feet, but it took all of his strength to rise up and turn to see her.His heart was thumping hard in his chest.Not from the exertion of the fight, but because of…her.

“Lady Ashryn,” Vulre said, his voice so different when he spoke to her compared to when he did to Declan.Almost reverent.No sneer.

The moment that Declan laid eyes on her, he felt a welling of warmth. She was dear to him.For a moment, another face flashed before his mind’s eye.The woman crumpled before some cabinets.Bleeding out.He shook the thought away even as his chest went tight.He dropped to one knee and bowed his head, the same as Vulre was doing.

She was as tall as the other elf, but not quite as broad though her sleeveless black dress showed muscled, pale arms.Her tall, black boots stirred the sand as she walked into the training circle with them.Her white hair hung down past her waist.It was braided tightly across the top of her skull but was loose otherwise in long, glorious waves.Her red eyes glowed like witchfire, but the skin around them was crinkled into what almost looked like a smile.

“Rise,” Ashryn said with a touch of amusement in her voice.“Vulre, you’re bleeding.”

Declan glanced over at Vulre who was getting up more stiffly than he normally did.Blood trailed down the outside of his armor.There was likely far more pooling in his boot.For a moment, Declan imagined he tasted that hot blood on his tongue.He swallowed thickly.He’d bested Vulre.

But we’re both dead,he reminded himself.Does it matter?I still won.

You did not let go,the voice sounded disgusted.

“It is nothing, my lady,” Vulre lied.

“Nothing?”One of her delicate eyebrows rose.“Then you do not require healing?”

“No, my lady.It is but a scratch… ahhhhhh,” Vulre let out a groan of pleasure as green light encircled his wounded leg and healed it.“Thank you.”

“You should be apologizing in addition to thanking me, Vulre,” she scolded.

“My lady?”Vulre lifted an eyebrow.

She put a finger underneath his chin.“For lying to me.I cannot have my Blood Knight grievously injured like that and still be able to rely upon him.”

“I–no, of course, Lady Ashyrn,” Vulre quickly said.His eyes darted to Declan and his lips flattened when their eyes met.“I am sorry.But it was–”

“If you say a lucky strike, I will truly be quite cross.No one gets a lucky strike against you,” she said with a pointed look at Vulre.Declan felt a welling of pride, but it was mixed with something else.“Why don’t you go train some of the other novices?I believe that your job here is done.For now.”

Vulre bowed low.His eyes were again on Declan.They were filled with… something.Declan couldn’t discern the emotion.Not the usual hatred.But something perhaps more dangerous.Vulre spun on his heel and left the training circle.It wasn’t until he was out of sight that Lady Ashyrn turned to him.Her red eyes flickered over all of his wounds, but no green light of healing appeared in her hands and traveled to him.

“I wish I could heal you, too,” she said quietly.

“The pain is good,” Declan said as he lifted his chin up.

He knew, somehow, that novices of the Venomthorn were not to be healed.They must experience the agony of the blows they failed to block.

“Is it?”She didn’t sound so sanguine about that.

“It teaches,” Declan repeated words that sounded rote to his own ears.

“That is what they say,” she agreed, but her expression reflected quite the opposite.

---