Vale’s blade carved through the air with a keen howl. Olive flinched back, barely managing to avoid the strike. It cut so close to her face that she could feel the wind of its passing against her cheek.
Her moment of distraction had nearly knocked her from the tournament — but she hadn’t missed what Elias had said. The word had been unmistakable.
Norman. Isn’t that the name of the necromancer from Phoenix Circle? The guy that vanished, and the whole reason Elias and Maeve have to be in this tournament? Why is he saying that when looking at Necrohammer? You can’t mean…
Power ignited all along Rime’s armor with a crackling roar. Tongues of black fire rolled up from his armor as he lunged, extending a gauntleted hand for Olive’s arm. She leapt back, torn from her thoughts, and barely managed to avoid getting caught.
A prickle of pain in Olive’s left arm caught her attention.
Her armor was uncomfortably hot. Even though Rime hadn’t managed to touch her, the heat from the flames dancing across his back had been nearly intense enough to burn her from its proximity alone.
A chill ran down her back.
“You’d best keep your attention on us,” Vale advised, lifting his sword to a ready position once more and shifting his stance. “Especially since you wanted to take me and Rime on at once. We’re going all out now, Miss. You haven’t shown anywhere near the strength to fight us while distracted. Not if you want to survive. And I’d really prefer you did — there’s only one person we’re looking to kill in this tournament.”
His words didn’t sound like a taunt so much as a request. Vale genuinely seemed concerned that Olive was going to get herself killed without putting up a good fight — and somehow, that was even more annoying than an actual insult would have been.
Olive’s eardrums ruptured. Violent ringing swallowed her hearing entirely. She staggered as blood poured down the sides of her face. The world spun around her like a circus wheel and her balance evaporated, a snuffed candle in the wind.
Hearing would have been the only way she could track Rime when he was behind her. By cutting it off, she had no way to know when he attacked. The man was behind her somewhere, but if she turned back to him, then Vale would have an opening.
They’d trapped her. No matter which direction she turned, she was exposed.
Panic tried desperately to drive into Olive’s thoughts. Her mind whirred, throwing suggestions borne of emotion rather than logic. She nearly charged right at Vale, completely ignoring Rime, in hopes of tossing caution to the wind and betting everything on a wild strike.
Instead, Olive stood her ground. Her hearing was gone. She couldn’t turn in either direction without exposing herself to the other.
Those were the terms of the fight. She couldn’t change that. All she could control was what had yet to pass.
Olive shifted her stance. She felt the wind prickle against her skin. She felt the blood trickling down the sides of her face, the rumble from the roars in the crowd above.
There was only her, Rime, and Vale.
Three motes of light in the darkness.
Olive released a soft breath.
The air around her shimmered, but the change was visible to only her. Golden letters bloomed to scrawl before her eyes. Olive didn’t read them. There was no need to waste the time or energy. She already knew what they said.
I can’t say I’m surprised.
Her Challenge had reared its head once more.
“Elias, Maeve,” Olive called. Her voice was just loud enough to be heard over the thunderous crowd. “It happened.”
Vale and Rime didn’t let her say anything else. He exploded forward, his sword screaming through the air in a black blur as he lunged at her. Olive knew that Rime had done the same from behind her.
Olive’s vision tightened. The world went dark — nothing existed but her and her opponents. Her Challenge burned everything else to ash.
But, to her, absolutely nothing had changed. She’d already been completely focused on the fight. Things weren’t the same as they had been the last time her Challenge had arrived. Her team trusted her — and she trusted them. Elias would hold his opponent’s attention. Maeve would back them up when the opportunity arose.
And Olive would do her job as well. She would keep her opponents’ attention on her until an opportunity arose.
She spun, power pouring through her body and down her arms to gather within the blade of her sword. Olive swung it like she were trying to cut through reality itself, nothing but determination remaining within her eyes.
A clang echoed, somehow distant to her ears, as her sword knocked Vale’s to the side. She continued the strike and brought it around to connect with Rime’s shoulder.
He’d been exactly where she’d expected him to be.
Right where she could cut him. Where she could match the full might of her strength against his armor.
Olive’s lips twitched into a smile. She twisted her sword to strike with the flat of the blade rather than its sharp edge at the last moment.
The Challenge could be damned.
I am more than my sword. The Mesh doesn’t determine how I fight.
The only one that rules my blade is me. And when I decide that I’m going to swing the damn thing like a bat instead of trying to cut someone, then that’s exactly what I’m going to do.
Her swing was met with a satisfying crunch. Rime tumbled across the ground, bouncing several times before skidding to a halt. The fire covering his armor left a smoldering trail in his wake, but Olive didn’t pay it any mind.
She spun back to Vale, catching his next blow with an overhead block. The two of them locked in place, each straining to overpower the other.
Rime charged them again. Olive couldn’t turn to see him, but she felt his steps in the ground. She shifted her weight and redirected Vale’s sword before leaping into the air.
Her foot slammed into Rime’s chin as she vaulted back, landing on the ground and staggering a step before catching herself. The world still spun, but she refused to let herself lose balance.
That had been a trick from Reya — and definitely not one that focused on the pure art of the blade.
And yet, for some reason, the Mesh hadn’t punished her for the deviation. There was no time to wonder why.
This was bigger than her. Elias and Maeve needed Olive. If she failed the Challenge, then she failed the Challenge. She didn’t care about it anymore. The only thing that mattered right now was her, the sword in her hands, and the fight at her feet.