Torrents (DROPLETS Trilogy Book 3) (22 page)

     The weight of the gloves bore down on my muscles but I pushed on, even when Kryssa took her place across the clearing from me. She had strapped on a pair of matching gloves when we locked in for battle. I dodged and skittered around her, avoiding each strike and blow. She was being more reckless than normal and I knew it by the way she sometimes left her sides open for attack. Every now and again I would dodge forward to slash beneath her arms and reach through the opening to her side, but each time I had to retreat or receive the scrape of her leather-blocked blades.

     In the end, I began to realize the best attack, which proved hardest to defend, was the move Kryssa had first shown me. By dodging beneath a blow and then jumping into the air, you not only had your attacker caught unawares, but if done quick enough, their back was to you, thus rendering their blades useless. On one such chance, I was able to stab my blades into the base of her neck. When I came clambering back down to the solid ground, a few of the merfolk clapped.

     Sweat was trickling down my spine as we practiced.  It seemed as though the sun was only getting hotter while it passed overhead. Some of the Lathmorians had left our group and others had come to join, but all throughout my training I was aware of one figure who always stood just on the edges of my vision. For the most part, he worked with the other Lathmorians. They had begun to train as they offered help to put me through the courses.

     As the day wore on, pairs of merfolk sectioned off and battled one another with protective gloves or imaginary blades. Amongst them walked Zale, he directed them and offered tips, all the while remaining calm and keeping his eyes away from my own.

     I knew he was as aware of me, as I was of him. There was heat between us, a coursing connection from one to the other, though we never looked at each other. We were a twisted wire, the bands and cords of our existence strung together to make one, and still the distance between us remained. If it was possible, I was more aware of him than ever before.

     When the sun reached the top of its arc and began to descend toward the treetops again, I found myself wishing for its disappearance. Although my hair didn’t stick to the sweat on my skin, my black soldier’s garb seemed to grow hotter by the minute. I had abandoned the long sleeve shirt hours earlier, but the underlying tank top did little to cool my working body. I was just wiping my brow after another successful duel with Kryssa, when Zale stepped into the clearing space I had been practicing in all morning and early afternoon.

      Silence took hold of the entire gathering. I somehow knew I wasn’t the only one holding my breath. A stillness steadied the island, as though it too was waiting to exhale and surge forward.

      A shock of pure anticipation surged through my veins and somewhere within an instinct pulled me into my starting position. My hair drifted on the breeze, and when I met his gaze I felt the rest of the world fall away. His eyes bore into mine with fire, the hollowness replaced with something I couldn’t understand. Without a hint of warning, he dashed forward, it was all I could do to maintain my composure and not scream while running away in the other direction.

     I waited and feigned a move, but dodged away. He caught me and clipped my bared shoulder with the edge of the cuffs he wore. I gritted my teeth as my skin was rubbed raw. He was testing me. Without a moment’s hesitation, he dashed forward again and I spun away, moving faster this time. He clipped me along my leg, but when the leather tip of my gloves slid down his left arm, I knew I had succeeded in only making him more determined to prove his point.

     I had seen him fight numerous times before. He was fast and deadly. I remembered the way he would leave himself open for attack, risking his body for the high reward of taking the final blow. My memory proved well and even though I saw him give me the openings, I didn’t take them, knowing they would bring about the end. He fought with reckless precision, my only chance was to be smarter than him.

     We were battling with our bodies and our wits; the longer we went, the more I felt I was losing. I could hardly comprehend the moves he was placing around me, his arms were one moment near his sides and the next they struck out, clipping my body. One time, the edge of his cuffs caught my back, rubbing the flesh raw beneath my shirt. I grimaced, but kept going. With instincts I didn’t know I had, I parried and danced away from him, maintaining my composure and defense, but only just.

     He could have ended it over and over again within a moment, but he refused to finish it so quickly. The more he urged me on, the more stubborn I became. He was taunting me, pushing me to my limits until I would give in. With satisfaction, he grinned as my defiance turned to anger and I forced myself to continue, even when my body was shaking from the exertion.

     Seeing an opening, I decided against taking it and attacked the other side. My switch to the offensive caught him off guard for a fraction of a second, but he recovered quicker than I could’ve imagined. I took another pound to my shoulders which spun me around and a long scrape scoured over my back, baring the skin beneath my shirt. And still, he didn’t make the final blow. He was toying with me and I knew why. His anger toward me was justified, but it didn’t mean I had to take it.

     Feeling used, I fought back with everything I had. He had called me brave once, and I was going to prove it to him.

     Stepping back, I feigned a move to the right. When he adjusted, I jumped into the air hoping to bring my fake blades down on top of him. I had him for an instant, until he ducked. Spinning in a crouch, he flipped me over his back.

     The world came to a sharp halt, everything around me suddenly stalling, as I crashed to the ground with a heavy gust of wind fleeing my lungs.

     He was all I could see, his face hovering inches above mine, his legs crouched beside my body and the cuff around his arm hanging right above my throat at the perfect level where his blades really would have been.

     The air passed through my lungs with a wheeze, but settled into a normal rhythm and when my chest expanded to its full height, I met his gaze with my own. The fire dissipated only to be replaced by a smugness, which would have made me squirm, if he wasn’t so close. He had proved his point, and heat began to flood my cheeks. At the sight, a hint of approval tugged at the corners of his mouth and his gaze softened.

     “Get off me,” I said, and pushed his hand away.

     Feeling every sore muscle in my body, I gathered my limbs to stand. He offered me his hand, and when I took it, I was disgruntled to see his chest was hardly moving. He wasn’t even winded.

     “Had enough?” he asked, his one eyebrow rising higher than the other.

     “You wish,” I said brushing the grass off of my back, wincing when I touched the line he had scraped down across my spine.

     The watching Lathmorians exchanged glances with one another, some meandered away with backward glances. It was odd not to have them look on us with disgust, but instead a sense of awe. At least their wonderment had to do with his abilities, the looks they gave me were one’s of curiosity, but I was no match in battle for them, let alone this warrior. My pride took another chip.

     He rolled his shoulders, clearly satisfied. “Come on,” he said and gently pushed against the small of my back, leading me toward the edge of the clearing, where I discarded the gloves.

     The rest watched us leave, and I knew Kryssa and Elik had fallen into step behind us somewhere. We walked in silence for a time and I reveled in the lack of distance between us. Maybe, in some way, he had forgiven me for not telling him the truth. Every now and again when I glanced his way, I saw the calm in him, not restrained anger, but simply someone at peace.

     “So, I guess you’ve thought about what I said,” the words were more of a statement than a question, but I wanted him to respond. The wire stretched taut between us, I only wondered if it could remain strong.

     “Yes,” was all he said and I speculated, not for the first time, what he was thinking.

     “You know I love you, right?”

     “Yes,” he said again, and this time a real smile lifted the corner of his mouth. My heart stuttered at the sight of it. “I needed space.”

     “Okay.”

     “It was a lot to take in.” He said still looking forward. “I won’t ever lie to you, Lissie.” He stopped walking and my heart stuttered. “But you lied to me.”

     “I know,” I said.

     “I wasn’t finished.” He butted in. “I listened to everything you told me, and I know it’s real, but that doesn’t mean I want it. I can’t be him. You have to know that.” He turned his full gaze on me. The trees swayed behind his head and when I looked away, I knew he was watching my reaction.

     “I know,” I admitted. “I wasn’t asking you to be.” My words were soft and I hoped he would hear them the way I meant. It was true, I hadn’t told him because of my fear, but the revelations from his interrogation had been more out of wanting his full acceptance, than hoping for his remembrance.

     “Can you forgive me?” I asked, feeling my heart in my throat.

     “I’m working on it. But I think I just made some improvement,” he said, and I realized he meant our little skirmish in the clearing. And when he smiled, I felt the tension between us lift as though it had never been there.

     “That’s what that was?” I nudged him with my shoulder and he shrugged.

     “Sure,” His eyes kindled with amusement and I delighted in seeing it, even though I wasn’t entirely sure what he found so funny.

     “So I guess the Lathmorians aren’t so bad, huh?” I prodded.

     He grimaced and I almost laughed. Maybe it was the exertion we had displayed in the clearing for most of the morning or maybe it was the lack of accusation in his gaze, but I was feeling light in my step.

     “No,” he shook his head, “but they aren’t very different from the Hyven.”

     “How so?” I asked, a little offended.

     “They train, they fight, they kill. Same story.”

     “But they’re free, Tunder doesn’t treat them the way Morven does.”

     “How would you know?” he asked, glancing my way. The hill was just beginning to rise and we climbed toward the palace.

     “I was his prisoner once, I saw how he treated them.”

     “You saw what he wanted you to see,” he spoke so plainly it surprised me. “Don’t ever forget, Morven is always one step ahead of everyone else.”

     “Really?” I asked, even though I had come to a similar conclusion myself multiple times. Even now, I wondered what the Hyven leader was up to and whether or not we were all just playing right into his hands.

     The grass silenced our footsteps as the hill ascended at a greater angle. Zale’s long strides beside me were consistent and I had to take two steps to his one, in order to keep up. He didn’t seem to be interested in answering my question. As in all things with him, it was either fact or fiction. There was no in-between.

     “You know there’s only one of the Hyven I have a soft spot for?” I said, merely trying to break the silence between us.

     “Me, I hope,” he said with a chuckle, and I nearly lost my train of thought. How had he changed his tune so quickly? The more I thought about our little duel in the valley, the more I realized what had been at stake.

     I shook my head. “Nope, not you.”

     “Verna?”

     “No!” I said, sounding more astonished than ever before, his half-grin reappeared. If practice fighting in the clearing put him in this type of mood, I would have to think about doing it more often. “I meant Gell.”

     His face scrunched up, “Why?”

     “I don’t know,” I shrugged. “I always sort of felt bad for him.”

     “You shouldn’t.” He shook his golden head. “He’s not worth your pity.”

     I shook my head again, disregarding his words. “I guess it has something to do about the way he talks and moves. When I was a prisoner in Hyvar, he was the one who brought me food, sometimes I talked to him. For the most part, he didn’t respond, but when he did, I got the feeling he didn’t have a friend.”

     “He doesn’t, and doesn’t want one.” The warrior responded, his face growing darker by the second.

     “How can you say that?”

     “It’s the truth,” his deep baritone washed over me and I retreated.

     “Fine,” I said, “he sort of seemed sad to me is all.”

     “That’s because he likes to be that way.” His voice was grim.

     “You don’t think he wants to be happy?” I asked. We had just reached the top of the hill; the white walls of the palace stretched high above us and the branches on the surrounding trees swayed in the humid air, stirred by what little breeze was to be found.

     “That’s not how I think,” he said and paused to look down at me, the sun glinting behind his head. Sweat beaded and slipped down his face quickly, like water rushing over stone, giving his tanned skin a shimmer mixed in the deep bronze. The stiffness in his jaw made him look as though he was grinding his teeth as he squinted down at me. “I am anger and power. I don’t think about others, and what they are thinking or feeling. I think about me, and what I know, that’s who I am.”