Page 92 of Starside

He takes a step forward. “You are unworthy of any blade,” he says, getting closer. He doesn’t stop there. “You are weak. You are reckless. You can’t even fucking swim.”

My cheeks burn. His words sting like knives, skinning my weakest points. Still, I tilt my chin up. “Yet it’s mine anyway,” I say, right below him.

“Not for long,” he says. Not even a threat but a promise.

He isn’t wrong, but I hate that he’s right. I hate that he knows this will kill me, because I’m in far over my head and blinded by this unrelenting pain.

He sees that. He sees my weaknesses. I don’t want him to see anything about me.

I’m almost panting in anger. He’s a shadow towering over me. I have to fully tilt my head just to pretend to look at whatever face lies beyond the mask and darkness. I’ve gotten a rise out of him. I want to twist the knife of my words, since I can’t stab him with a real blade. Not yet.

“You must hate that this sword chose me … because it means we’re not so different. It means, in some way, we’re matched,” I purr, hoping my words hit their mark. A smile curves my lips. I can sense the change, the rippling in energy, as his anger simmers.

He leans down like he wants me to hear every word. “Swords are only as good as their wielders. Yours is just as pathetic as you are.” I flinch, that word sinking into my heart deeper than any dagger could, but he doesn’t stop. He gets lower. “Nothing about you is any match to me.”

Raker stares me down, as if daring me to say anything else. As if he’s thinking that he has finally broken me. His words were meant to hurt. They did. But I am not a flame that can be extinguished. I won’t let him look at me and only see weaknesses.

I look into that darkness, unflinching.

Enough of the mystery. Enough of hiding. Enough of him insulting me when I can’t even see his fucking face. In a flash, I reach toward his mask to remove it.

His hand juts out just as quickly, wrapping painfully around my wrist. I gasp at the tightness of his grip, enough to nearly break bone.

“Don’t,” he snarls.

I bare my teeth at him. His hold doesn’t weaken in the slightest. “They say you’re a monster beneath that mask. That’s why you wear it,” I spit at him. “It would be good, I think. For your face to match your wicked heart.”

His head moves as if he’s looking me up and down.

I know what he sees. My collar, pulled right up to my chin. My shirt that covers me all the way down to my knuckles, even though it’s hot. “I could say the same thing about you,” he says. Of course he notices everything. I glare at him.

I can almost feel him glaring back.

This is a duel, one I want to win, but as the moments bleed together, as I stare so long at the place beneath his hood that I can almost see those gray eyes, and that silver mask, as our angry breathing fills the cave, as his grip tightens even more—

He drops my wrist as if he can’t bear to touch me any longer, then walks off, leaving me burning with shame.

Bastard.

I hate him. His words shouldn’t sting—but they do anyway.

The previously sweet berries are nearly tasteless on my tongue. I swallow them down, then some water, before packing my food up carefully.

I look over at where Raker went. I can see the outline of him on his side, sleeping. His sword is close to me, dug into the ground. I don’t even attempt to move it.

His pack, though. His pack is right there by the entrance.

I watch his form as I step toward it. Slowly. Screw you.

With careful fingers, I slip my hand inside—and find what I’m looking for. The soap. I slip it into my palm, grab my sword, then jump through the water.

I am not pathetic, I think, as I venture into the darkness.

Under a muted crescent moon, I take my clothes off.

My markings glow faintly, like they sometimes do. They’re thin. Not too different from the color of my skin. They would be almost unnoticeable if they weren’t so very silver.

The water glows faintly through the darkness. A few bulbous white flowers float along its surface, alongside elaborate lily pads that look like expensive lace, tiny pieces cut out of them in patterns. Beautiful. Everything here is beautiful.