Page 102 of Starside

I spin and hardly get my blade up before it’s meeting metal. The other sword shatters around us in shards of bronze, but the man is quick, pulling out a dagger. He lunges for my neck, and I twist away, my sword slicing all the way around his stomach with arm-trembling effort. More blood spurts, and I nearly vomit, now covered in dirt and gore.

The man falls, revealing a half dozen immortals behind him.

Fuck.

I swallow. Take a step back.

They all race forward.

“Stay still.”

Stellan’s voice is in my head. We’re back in the graveyard where we used to train, because no one would ever bother us there. Only ancient, long-forgotten bodies are buried. Nowadays they’re burned.

It’s dark, but even if it wasn’t, I can’t see anything through the fabric he’s tied around my eyes.

My heart races as I strain to hear his steps. My fingers tremble against the hilt of the blade.

“Your greatest enemy lives within you. It’s fear. Kill it before it kills you.”

I shift my weight. I take a deep breath.

His voice is right in front of me. “No matter what comes at you in this world, Aris, you stand your ground. You take a deep breath, and you focus. You make a plan, and then you do it. There is no fear. There is no indecision. Not for you. There’s no time for anything but one steadying breath.”

The darkness feels like it’s caving in. I’m afraid of it, ever since that night, just like my sister used to be. I’m afraid of this place, where the wind sounds like whispers. I’m afraid of the fire I can feel just in front of me, the one Stellan has set.

“Kill your fears, Aris,” he says. “Before they kill you.”

Then he removes the blindfold.

A dozen men rush toward me, and I don’t flinch. I dig my feet into the ground, sink into the stance I just spent hours practicing, lift my sword just like I did then, and take that one steadying breath.

Then I’m moving.

A sword comes at my neck, and I lean back, watching as he cuts off the head of the man behind me instead. Both hands firmly on the hilt, I swing my sword down in that slicing move I just mastered, right through bone and tissue, until he’s just bloody tatters.

This metal is still too heavy, and I’m sore, but right now, fury ignites my strength.

These men …

They abducted me. They touched me. They plan to offer me to some lord.

No. I am not a thing to be taken and traded. If they want me, they will have me bloody and broken, because I refuse to go down quietly.

A battle cry sounds to my left, and I plant my feet, bend my knees, then turn and stick my sword through the immortal’s stomach with so much force it goes through the man behind him too.

Another immortal moves in a blur, blade aimed at my arm, as if to cut it off to get my sword. So I let it go.

My blade dives forward, taking the impaled bodies with it, and I kick the immortal’s legs out from under him.

He falls back, skewering himself on someone else’s metal. But instead of bellowing with pain, he just closes his eyes in reverence as blood pours from his wound, puddling onto the dirt, and says, “Take it, Lordship. A gift, for you.”

What the fuck?

I don’t want to know what kind of lord wants blood. I need to get out of here. I pounce and take his sword, my fingers curling around the hilt and this—

This is bronze. This is familiar.

This, I can work with.