Page 49 of Shifter King
Enver laughed. He turned his right hand over, his fingers starting to curl. "You will not make three steps closer before you are on your knees."
The faintest sensation struck his mind. As if something had drawn close. That couldn't be it. Surely not. Would they be so arrogant when this was all they had?
"Three steps closer?" Naatos looked down at the ground. The first step would take him directly onto the sand. Taking the spear, he slid the blade along his palm. Bright blood welled against it. He flung it onto the sand, then stabbed his spear head first into the sand with a solidthunkthat resounded into the earth. Gripping the shaft, he pulsed more blood out. It spilled in thick red streams down the carved black metal, dripping down onto the coarse brown sand. He fixed his gaze on the Abliatos and smiled slowly. "Good." It barely took a breath to heal as he resumed pacing. "Let's talk. Now that we're clear on when death occurs."
"You mock me?" Enver demanded. His upper lip curled. The markings along his temples darkened even more, some distorting into broken lines as he tightened the muscles in his hand.
Umit frowned, looking from Enver to Naatos. More than a little concern creased his brow.
"Yes. In every sense. Not only in your life but in your death that is soon to come." Naatos reached the end, turned and continued in the other direction, his gaze fixed on Enver. "But before that, show me this terror of yours. Unleash the power of the Abliato in all its glory."
"Stop toying with him, Enver. Drop him, or I will." Umit struck his hands against his knees and stood. "This disrespect does not continue."
Enver glared at Naatos, a vein bulging along his temple and another in his neck. "You will suffer long for this."
"Show me your power, vom zuq."
Color flared through Enver's cheeks and over his throat. Apparently some insults were timeless. The curling in his fingers fell away as he nearly dropped his arm.
Umit started forward. "What did you call him, skinchanger?" He balled his hand into a fist, eyes widening. "What did you call him?"
"Stop," Enver snarled, swiping his hand back at Umit. "I will deal with him." He clenched both fists.
A faint scratching sensation along his skull started, light but present. More insistent now but not even challenging to block. Nothing at all like Tuncer or Haluk or Seniha when he had sparred with them. Certainly not like what Killoth prepared him for.
"Trying to find my fears?" He tapped his finger against his temple, meeting his gaze without flinching. "Trying to trap me in a well of illusion?" He chuckled darkly, shaking his head as he continued to pace. Some of the sand in the center swirled and poured downward. "What do you fear? What creatures or beasts terrify your dreams, Abliato?"
"I fear nothing." Beads of sweat lined Enver's forehead. "You, on the other hand." His fingers flexed again.
Just a slightly stronger scratching. Not even enough to mar dried paint. "Oh, I doubt that." He smiled. "Someone like you probably has a particular set of fears. I'd imagine it's something along the lines of if you ever encountered a real skinchanger. It's not something we talk about. Or we didn't used to. To be atrueskinchanger, well, you could not withstand it even for a moment. But its premise in general—you fear that. Or perhaps just a Vawtrian who isn't intimidated or affected by your cheap tricks."
Umit moved behind Enver, scowling. Not so subtly, Umit curled his own hand. His numerous rings reflected the light in spiraling prisms and fragments as his smoke wings intensified, appearing to become more corporeal.
Another set of claws raked over his mind, as effective as a wolf's claws on a thirty-foot stone wall. So weak he couldn't even see what memories they were trying to draw upon or what they were trying to create. Children could do better than this.
Naatos spread his arms out as he continued to walk. His spear remained stuck in the edge of the sand. "This is all you can do? You? Truly. You I understand, Umit. You haven't succeeded in being a contender in the Withercrown. But you, Enver, you I heard such things about. How ferocious you are. How horrifying the nightmares you create are. But here you are, tormenting untested Vawtrians for what? I suspect you don't even know how to contend with someone like me. I was promised nightmares and illusions, but the only thing I see are two dead men."
Enver bared his teeth, his expression tightening. The darkness in his eyes intensified, clouding his eyes completely black for a moment.
That brought about a slightly sharper scrape. But even then it wasn't enough to dent or mar the protection.
Umit stepped to the side, his eyes flashing. "Go." He snapped his fingers at the other students. "Now. Kuchal."
These two didn't walk, they ran up the stairs.
Good.
AaQar was waiting up there, somewhere beyond the rocks and in the grass.
He didn't even glance up as he continued pacing. "They said you came here without weapons."
"We have no need of weapons," Enver growled.
"Apparently you do. Perhaps you'd like to whisper the nightmare I'm supposed to be living. Or is simply that I'm trapped here with you and your exceptional incompetence, Enver the Inefficient?"
A boulder crashed down, striking the coarse stone and rolling into the sand. It missed by a full foot.
Naatos clicked his tongue. "Your aim is better than your illusions, but not by much. I am exceptionally disappointed. It's little wonder the Order of the Phantom Touch has no interest in either of you."
