by Bridget Ladd
Xander accepted my thanks with a shrug, but I could see in his eyes that he understood my despair. “Think nothing of it. It’s far from being finished, but it’s a start.”
I sighed, dropping my arm to my side, and looked to the bulked mass of a metal shoe that he was now making me step into. “I feel like everything is happening so fast. Just a few days ago I was to become the next Mistress, and now everything is a mess. People I love are now gone. Dead, because of my actions. I . . . I feel lost,” I admitted to not only Xander, but to myself for the first time.
Xander rose slowly from his crouch and looked at me evenly. “If you’re breathing you’re still living and if you’re living you’re still fighting.”
It was that simple to him.
I backed up, resting my weight against the table behind me.
“I don’t even know how to fight, Xander. I’m a student of Science. And I’m really only good at dancing,” I said with a bitter chuckle.
Xander shook his head. “No. You’re resourceful. You may not think such training will help in the Barrage, but in truth, having balance and a sound mind are a fighter’s best friends. Dancers, thinkers, and those who fight for a cause are not all that much different,” he encouraged. “Besides, I saw Scottie’s nose. Give yourself some credit.”
I rolled my eyes, but my mood lightened as I gave into his slight grin. “How did you know it was me? Was it that obvious?”
“It’s not too difficult to guess.”
He directed his attention from my face and began unstrapping my armor. “Now that you know a little something about ‘thinking’ your way through a difficult situation . . .” The water well. “How about I teach you a little something about fighting? Let’s combine all your talents.” He paused briefly. “Believe me, these next few weeks will be a time you’ll likely never forget.” His tone sounded almost grim, a warning.
Unsure of the look in his eyes, I nodded. I hazard a guess this was where the sweating in practice part comes in. I just hoped that I’d be doing more sweating than bleeding in the days to come.
Chapter 14
A Sheltered Issue ~ A Weapon To Be Taken Seriously
“One . . . two . . . three . . . attack! One . . . two . . . three . . . defend! It’s no different than reacting to the time counts in synchronized dance, Lily. Hit me harder this time. Find your opening, then strike. Keep your balance! Again.”
It was only the second week of physical training, and yet I could feel my body gaining muscle in places I didn’t know even existed. We had already practiced earlier this morning and were now training under the stillness of moonlight. At least now, my muscles didn’t shake uncontrollably nor did I find myself falling to the ground from exhaustion like I did the first week.
“Never hesitate. Have no mercy for your enemies, for they will have none for you.” Xander circled me. His chest was bare and he wore only loose trousers. If this wasn’t a tactic to discipline me to focus, I’d be surprised. Xander took everything in account when he was training.
“Alternate your pace. Change your speeds so your opponents won’t expect when you’ll attack.”
He rushed me, swiping his leg to knock me from my feet. I leapt backwards, though he was upon me within a blink. Using both hands, I blocked a swift kick to my waist, pushing his foot to the sand.
He kept coming.
“Fight back. Don’t let me push you.”
He threw a punch and I knocked it aside. He threw another, connecting with my shoulder painfully. I ignored it as I brought my forearm up to block another leaping punch. With a bone on bone smack, his fist connected with my wounded elbow, causing me to stumble backwards with a startled cry.
His eyes widened slightly when he realized what he’d done.
Taking the opportunity, I shot my leg out and dug it sidelong into the sand, spraying it up and into his face. I charged him then, tackling him at the waist. The next thing I knew: I had my knee at his throat, pinning him to the ground.
I smirked, reveling in the impressed look on his face. My arm hurt, but winning felt better. “You hesitated,” I said, breathing heavily.
Xander shook his head and smiled impishly as he accepted his defeat. “Well done,” he congratulated as he stood and offered a hand to help me to my feet. “Which brings me to another point. Though it seems you have the hang of it already.”
“And what’s that?” I asked, wiping the sweat from my forehead.
“Do not be afraid to play dirty.” He grinned and narrowed his eyes at me. “Or play to your enemies’ emotions.”
I scoffed, playfully shocked. “It really did hurt you know?” I lifted my elbow, pointing to the red welt that now bloomed from the newly formed scab. “I just didn’t give up like you thought I would.”
“I know. That’s why I’m impressed.” Xander gave me one of those mysterious sidelong glances that revealed nothing. He shook his head then and looked to the sky with a smile. “You and that cursèd sand . . . you guys make a great team.”
My smile faded. I’m not sure why or what triggered it, but a dark corner of my mind began to expose itself; a sheltered issue that I had been ignoring since the night I chose to volunteer my name.
“I do not think I can kill anyone,” I said softly as we shifted our way through the sand towards the hanger.
Xander’s steps faltered. “Don’t say that,” he whispered.
“It’s true. I don’t think I can.”
He turned to me. “If it comes to that, you must go through with it,” he said carefully. “This is the Barrage. Everyone knew the risk before they volunteered their name.” His eyes searched mine.
A sigh pushed past my lips. “I understand. It just doesn’t seem fair for those who joined to either help their Sector by getting the sponsorship or wanting to change the Law.”
“Nothing’s fair, Lily. There are a good number of Volunteers who join only to see bloodshed and fame. You cannot take the time to sort the good ones from the bad. It takes only one moment of hesitation, a moment of mercy, and you could be dead. Do not take that risk,” Xander said with quiet fervor. His tight demeanor told me he was becoming passionate over the subject, and he didn’t approve of the look in my eyes.
“I cannot promise you that,” I said slowly. “The rounds do not have to end in murder. I’m going to try to induce a surrender scenario every chance I can get.”
Xander looked at me and saw I spoke the truth. He dropped his hands past his hips then brought his palm to his brow, scratching just above his hairline in irritation. He angled his head away.
“You’ll feel differently when you find yourself fighting for your life.” His dark lashes flickered as though he was trying to blink away an unpleasant memory, his fist tightening slightly at his side. He directed his attention towards me again before he stood tall and stepped backwards towards the door.
“I’ve got business to attend to,” he said tersely, before swiveling to yank the door open.
~
I stood alone under the soft moonlight after watching him leave. The cloth bandages I had wrapped around my hands to prevent blistering had unraveled and were now dragging in the sand. This was not the first time he had left me in order to attend to his mysterious ‘business’. Probably meeting up with a lady friend of his. I mused, but quickly shook my head. Xander wasn’t exactly suitor material, what with his habit of throwing girls down wells and electrocuting them and all.
A perfect gentleman.
He did look rather beaten up about it afterwards . . . . I recalled his expression when Dex poked fun about it. With a shrug, I walked barefoot over the mounds of coarse sand back to the hanger, loving how it massaged the bottoms of my aching feet and toes.
I wonder how long he would be gone.
I could finish my weapons before he got back. The thought sparked a certain joy back into my heart. Earlier, I declared to him that I would work on my own weapons, and in private, since he’d taken it upon himself to finish the entirety o
f my suit. I could always count on finding him up to arms in sparks as he meticulously welded and smoothed away every inconsistency in my armor. A normal man would be exhausted over the worry of it. Xander, however, had something driving him. Some force urging him beyond rational understanding.
Just before tonight’s training began, he had come to me quietly and told me that the suit was finished, that he wanted me to try it on and incorporate it into our future training sessions. I smiled at him gratefully and nodded. What he didn’t know was that I too had almost finished my weapons. Weapons that just happened to be . . . well, most likely not what he was expecting. After internally debating for almost two days, I finally thought back to the image in my grandmother’s journal. My decision made.
Not dueling swords. No. My weapon of choice was the axe.
Xander wouldn’t approve of my decision to duel wield axes instead of swords. In his defense, I was losing a good three feet in reach. I, however, did not care. There was something about the axes that called to me, something in their savage power that made my heart flutter.
The axe was my weapon.
My first attempt at forging one was a dismal failure. Its edges bowed and bent in the wrong places; I had cooled it unevenly; and the surface had gouges where I’d struck it too hastily in my frustration. I tried to keep my curses at a minimum, knowing Xander was working at the other end of the hanger, out of sight, but not out of earshot. That had proven difficult, having already lost count of the times I had to yell at him to go away after his attempts to check-in on me. My arms were not used to the constant strain either and I thought for certain they were going to fall off by night’s end. Training every morning and night, with blacksmithing worked in somewhere between, was . . . mind-numbing. I allowed myself a day’s rest, taking heed of my previous tutoring and remembering that patience was what I needed. That if I saw a problem, I needed to fix it—that problems only grew if left unchecked.
As I opened the door to the hanger I reminisced back to two nights ago when I finally finished my first successful axe. It was beautiful—balanced, yet very strong. I had swung it repeatedly to test its weight. It sliced through the air so fluidly that even the floating dust particles didn’t have a chance at escape.
Elegant and swift, but also had a brute force that I knew the Council would not be expecting. I wanted a weapon that would take what it wanted without remorse. I needed a weapon that would stop an opponent in their tracks. A weapon that the Council and all others would take seriously.
Thinking back to the night of Mrs. Fawnsworth’s murder, my clawing mind had made me realize that this was truly the weapon that I wanted: A weapon that would make them pay.
~
The process of making axes was straightforward. Trying to get my arms and muscles to cooperate with the task was the difficult part. It felt as though my mind had to threaten my body to work as a team. I believed the two hated one another now. Body and Mind.
I supposed the physical sacrifice added to the power of the weapon, binding the maker to it, allowing them to become one. For it is an undeniable truth that no one knows how to wield a weapon better than the one who created it.
I just hoped Xander wouldn’t give me too much grief about them.
Already exhausted from our moonlit training session, I became even more acquainted with my new friends Discomfort and Fatigue. My mind had all but given up yelling at my body—it had run away into the shelter of my head, refusing to speak to anyone. So I was glad to be at the smoothing and sharpening stage in the process of the second axe. The action was rhythmic, almost soothing even. Though, trying to not ignite my hair from the vat of hot coals or have it become entangled in the spinning wheel was difficult, tired as I was. Eventually, I was forced to allow myself a few hours of sleep. When I awoke, I watched the sun gently illuminate across the sky. Another day closer to the Barrage.
And still Xander hadn’t returned.
After breakfast and two hours more of hard labor, I held the second axe in the air for inspection. It looked just as marvelous as the first. I picked up the first axe and weighed them both in my sweaty and soot covered hands, hoping I had calculated the correct weight for the second.
I sighed in relief and smiled. They were almost identical in weight, balance, and sharpness. I added spikes opposite to the blades, taking into account that I’d be fighting opponents that would be wearing armored suits, many with stabilizing wires which added strength to the wearer. But there would be weak points under the arms, the knees, the hips. The spikes could be useful.
I sat, finishing an etching of a floral design onto the flat surface of the blades when I heard the gears of the old dilapidated door engage.
Xander.
Putting down the hot etching tool, I took off my blackened gloves. Lines of dirt gathered in the crevices of my palm so I wiped them across my pants before going to greet him. I was curious where he had been all day, but nothing in his appearance told me anything.
“It’s good to see you, O’ partner of mine. I trust you had a productive day? Night? Day and night?” I asked with a wry smile as I wiped the sweat from my temple.
“I knew you wouldn’t let me get away with this for much longer,” he said as he took off his coat and carefully placed it on its hanger. “It’s nothing to concern yourself with, I assure you.”
“Is that so?” I responded amused. “How about you let me be the judge of that? Unless, of course, you’re meeting a . . . girl . . . or whatever you may be into.” Whatever he may be into? I stalled before continuing, “In which case, you’re right. That is your own business, and I have no say as to how you spend your free time. Not that you really have any free time. Or—” I was babbling.
Xander smiled slightly. “It’s nothing like that.”
“Then what is it?” I asked with more fire than I had intended. Then embarrassed at sounding like a nagging old woman, I muttered, “I’m sorry, I haven’t slept much,” and turned away.
Surprising me, he reached around from behind, placing his half gloved fingers on my forearm.
“No, I’m the one who should be sorry.” He dropped his fingers from my arm, slowly, like he didn’t realize he had put them there. “We’re in this predicament together and it doesn’t help you trust me if I keep sneaking out like I do,” he said, sincerely, I thought. “How about I take you with me tonight? With both suits completed, I think you deserve a little break, and a chance to get some . . .” He paused before he emphasized the next part, “fresh air.”
I frowned at him, but slowly nodded my agreement. There was a glint in his eyes that made me extremely curious. The only way to find out was to forget my aching muscles and agree to go with him.
“Fair enough. But first let me show you what I accomplished today,” I said cautiously, wanting to break the news to him gently. “I not only have my suit completed, but also—my weapons.”
Xander stopped what he was doing and faced me. “You’ve finished? Already?” His left eyebrow rose as though he didn’t believe me.
“Yes, I’ve finished. And may I just say how pleased I am by your evident faith in me?”
Xander made a face. “Don’t take it personally. Especially if I decide to take over and alter any . . . inconsistencies. I know how much your pride means to you, but this isn’t a game, Lily.”
“The Barrage has never been a game to me, Xander.” Did he think me a complete idiot? With joking mood gone, I sighed. “Wait here,” I told him, and hurried to retrieve my newly forged battle axes.
I was angry at the way he treated me—like I was a fragile porcelain doll that constantly teetered on the edge of internal collapse. Here I was training every day, sweating and losing sleep over these axes, my fingers bloodied and bruised . . . and he thought I took it as only a game? A way to bolster my pride?
The next thing I knew, I had a white knuckled grip on the axes’ handles and was swiftly walking back towards him with malicious intent glowing in my eyes. It angered me even mo
re when I saw that my approach didn’t even entice a reaction out of him. He simply stood there, arched his eyebrow at me as if finding my mood amusing.
He then frowned, realizing what I was about to do. And more specifically—what I was holding.
So much for breaking the news to him gently.
With a burst of pent-up passion that needed immediate release, I hurled one axe after the other, straight at the chalkboard—the one directly behind his head.
With two very satisfying thuds, the axes landed cleanly into the board, one even lodging itself so deep I knew its edge protruded from behind.
I stood with wide, wild eyes. The axes were even more efficient than I’d hoped—their blades sang unbelievably true.
Xander too, no longer held the inquisitive and amused look on his face. In fact he had not even moved from his position, did not even flinch. His eyes though, drilled into mine.
His lips parted and his forehead creased. “Those were . . . not, what I was expecting,” he said slowly.
Was he angry? Or proud? I couldn’t tell. He took a few steps towards me and away from the chalkboard. “You’re planning to dual wield axes?” he said guardedly. Then he shook his head and let loose. Anger. Yes, it was anger that I sensed.
“Are you insane? Of all the weapons, you choose the most cumbersome of the lot, geared towards someone who possesses brute strength. I expected . . .” He sighed, running his hand through his hair and held on as though it would anchor him to some distant calm and collective state.
“What?” I demanded. “You expected something that everyone else counts on a girl of my stature to wield, correct? Then I chose perfectly for no one will see them coming.” I steeled myself, ready to fight to convince him. “This will be to my advantage.”
“Really? You think so?” He nodded. “Let’s see if you can even pry them from the chalkboard. Go ahead, Lily. Show me what you’ve got.” He gestured to the board behind him, taunting me.
I folded my arms.
“Bones, Lily. Couldn’t have asked for a second opinion?”