Page 73 of The Shattered Rite
The copper-haired boy took a stumbling step back.
The snake-eyed man tilted his head, studying her with a reptile’s patience.
The broad-shouldered one came forward a half pace, axe in hand.
“So the little dragonblood thinks she belongs here,” he said, voice low and poisonous.
She didn’t answer. The blade in her hand gleamed, steady as her heartbeat.
“She moves like she’s not afraid,” the snake-eyed man observed. “Maybe she isn’t.”
Then, a screech.
A beast erupted from the shadows behind them—smoke and claw. One of the unknown men shrieked as it dragged him back into the darkness, his voice cutting off like a severed limb, wet and sudden.
The broad-shouldered man lunged at her with a roar, taking advantage of the chaos.
Left,Vaeronth hissed.Step left—then pivot.
She obeyed without thought. His axe slammed into stone, shattering the space where her shoulder had been.
Now. Strike his knee.
Her blade flashed. She felt the jolt as it connected, the man’s bellow of pain.
Again—guard high!
She blocked his backhand swing, arms trembling with the impact. Sparks burst where metal met metal.
“Filthy cursed-blood,” he spat, staggering back.
Behind her, the snake-eyed man vanished into the smoke. The copper-haired boy ran.
Her attacker tried to raise his axe again—too slow. She hooked his ankle and shoved. He hit the ground hard, air whooshing out of him.
Not dead. But not getting up soon.
You see?Vaeronth whispered.Combat suits you. You only have to believe in yourself.
She panted, heart hammering.
“This should be beyond impossible. I’m moving like I’ve done this before,” she whispered.
In your soul, you have.
She turned, the chamber empty but threats near in the shadows.
A corridor glimmered beyond—green and cold.
She took one step, then stopped.
He appeared in the space ahead in the blink of an eye.
Malric.
He stepped out of the wrecked dark where the wall had just birthed teeth. Dust ribboned off his coat; a thin white shard clicked under his boot and stilled. He stopped within reach, then—deliberately—took half a step back.
“You again?” Her voice was rough. The blade in her hand quivered once and held.
