Page 9 of Circle of Shadows
He grinned, hopped over his chair, and pushed his way into the fight. He bounced on his toes. This was part of what had been missing today. Adrenaline. The feeling that he coulddosomething.
“Gentlemen,” Daemon said, “would you kindly take it outside? You’re ruining the atmosphere in here.”
Two of the men who’d been in each other’s faces spun around and sneered at him. “If you knew what was good for you, you’d stay out of this, boy,” the bearded one said.
“Actually,” Daemon said, “ifyouknew what was good for you, you’d leave like I asked.”
“Smart mouth,” the other man said, “but not such a smart brain.” He wound up and took a swing.
Daemon dodged easily, grabbed the man’s arm, andhurled him through the air. The man sailed toward the exit, landing with an ungraceful flail as he hit the ground under the blue curtains at the door of the iz.
“Now, you can leave quietly,” Daemon said to the five others, “or I can throw you out like that fellow.”
The men’s faces turned bright red, and despite fighting each other only a minute ago, they now united against Daemon. They all pulled out knives.
“Right,” Daemon said. He could pull out a weapon too—gods knew he had enough little daggers, darts, and throwing stars hidden on his body—but he didn’t want to hurt them much. They were just drunkards getting a bit out of hand. Instead, Daemon cracked his knuckles and smirked while they approached. The rest of the iz had gone silent in tense anticipation.
The first man charged at him with a knife raised above his head.Amateur,Daemon thought as he sidestepped while simultaneously smashing the side of his hand like an ax into the man’s forearm.
The man immediately dropped the knife and fell to the ground cradling his arm. It wasn’t broken, but it would feel that way to him for a little while.
The next man advanced on Daemon with quick, continuous slashes.
Daemon stepped backward, straight into a bunch of huddled diners, too frightened to be caught up in the fight but too paralyzed to flee. Daemon had to adjust his path, arcing away from the table and back toward the bar.
Of course, that’s where the other three men were waiting. Their knives were out and pointed at Daemon as hebacked toward them, like bayonets ready to impale him.
Daemon continued to edge closer and closer.
“He really is an idiot, isn’t he?” one of the men said.
At that moment, Daemon slid himself backward, taking out the man directly behind him. Daemon swept his leg right and then left, knocking out the feet of the other two. They landed with profanity-laden crashes at the base of the bar.
Daemon spun to meet the lone man standing, who was advancing faster now. The slashing of his knife grew quicker but also sloppier, driven by rage and likely several ounces of fear.
So predictable, Daemon thought.
He lunged forward and slammed a fist to the man’s throat while simultaneously grabbing and twisting the knife arm. He locked the arm, kneed the man in the ribs, and stripped him of his knife.
Only now did Daemon unsheathe a short sword from the scabbard strapped to his calf, hidden beneath his trouser leg. He brandished it at the five men on the ground.
“I’ll give you one last chance to get out of here with your limbs and innards intact,” Daemon said.
They glared at him, pride severely wounded. But all five of them—excluding the one already thrown to the exit—hustled out of the tavern without any further threat.
The iz erupted into hoots and applause.
Daemon nodded his head in a small gesture of acknowledgment and went back to his table, where Sora waited.
She was smiling. “You really are art in motion when you fight.”
He flushed from the tips of his ears down to his neck.
Luckily, he was saved by the bartender, who set another carafe of sake on the table. “You two are taiga apprentices, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” Daemon said, beaming proudly. “You could tell?”
The bartender chuckled. “Normal people don’t fight like that, and they aren’t as honorable. Thank you for keeping the peace.”
