Page 89 of Stealing Embers
“Good, Emberly!” Deacon yells from somewhere out of view.
My sparring stick swipes for Steel’s head as he dives to the right, sending a tornado of crystallized snowflakes into the air.
Swinging around, I see him bounce to his feet just out of striking range.
He grasps his remaining rattan with both hands and slowly cracks his neck.
Trepidation whispers over my skin, causing the fine hairs on my arms to stand on end. His icy glare doesn’t help matters. My instincts scream at me to run for cover, but I force myself to stand my ground.
Besides, the barren mountain terrain around us doesn’t offer many hiding places. A natural arena of snow-covered red and orange rocks surrounds us. Deacon stands on an outcropping, observing us from above.
The whole thing has an outdated gladiator-ish feel—including the murder-y look on Steel’s face.
The next instant, his weapon whistles through the air toward my mid-section.
Jumping back, I bring my rattan sticks down to block the assault.
He returns my block with a counterstrike to my bicep.
I gasp at the pain that explodes in my arm, but manage to keep a hold on my stick as I backpedal.
That’s going to leave a nasty bruise.
“Don’t retreat! You’ll give your opponent the advantage.”
I’ll tell you where to shove your advantage, Deacon.
Steel comes at me with a series of attacks so speedy that even with two weapons to his one, I can’t keep up.
Every fourth hit lands on my body somewhere. My movements become sloppy as panic sets in. Shimmers of light appear in my peripheral vision.
Steel raises his rattan above his head and swings it down toward me.
I lift my weapons to block, but already know they’ll make a flimsy shield.
The lights that had teased my vision now swim in front of my eyes; rather than fight the transformation, I embrace it, seeing a chance to escape.
I slam my lids shut. When I reopen them, I’m standing in the color-drenched spectrum world with my arms still raised above me.
No Steel in sight.
Sagging with relief, I take the opportunity to catch my breath. I’ve barely filled my lungs with a full breath of air before Steel appears before me.
“You didn’t think it would be that easy, did you?” he taunts.
“Honestly, I kind of hoped it would be.”
Instead of continuing our banter, he lets his rattan stick do the talking.
It isn’t long before I’m backed underneath a rock formation—stone trapping me above, below, and at my back.
My ankle rolls when I step on some loose stones and I drop to my knees, one hand releasing my weapon to catch myself.
Rookie mistake.
The grin on Steel’s face as he stands tall above me grates on my nerves.
“Do you yield, or do you want me to knock you out . . . again?”