I braced myself, keeping my stance limber as I awaited Ray’s next attack. I had used up a lot of my magic in that first—and now useless— attempt to entrap him. I had to be careful to conserve the rest for my defense.
Ray had always done well in our class but I had never paid much attention to his training. I’d been so consumed with watching Darren and Priscilla that I had never stopped to think about the others in their group.
Now I wished I had.
A minute passed, and then I saw it in the way Ray was holding his arms. I threw up my shield, widening my stance and angling my guard arm so that I would not receive the full impact of his casting.
His magic hit me much harder than Ella or Clayton’s had ever done in practice. I had to dig in my heels to keep the magic from taking over my defense.
There was a shattering vibration and then Ray’s magic rebounded. Magic shot off the shield and into the woods behind me. A moment later there was a loud crack as a pine split in two.
I swallowed, realizing how close I had come to losing the match. That shield trick had just saved me from an instant defeat. I never would have been able to block a casting like that head on.
Ray’s mouth fell open in shock. He recovered quickly, but it was just enough for me to realize that while I had not noticed him in practice, he had clearly paid attention to my duel with Priscilla. That attack had been no accident. He had been planning to capitalize on my weakness. Thankfully, it was a weakness I no longer had.
Ray narrowed his eyes, and I readied myself for another casting. When nothing happened immediately, I squinted, trying to see what could possibly be delaying his attack. A second later I noticed the glint of steel and the strange curve of metal in my opponent’s hand. It was similar to the battleaxes we had practiced with in class, only this new weapon was much smaller, and the haft was not even two feet in length.
Why did he pick such a small weapon?
The answer came moments later when he hurled the object at me with staggering force. I threw up a shield and took off at a run, sprinting as fast as my legs could carry me.
If Ray had been a knight I would have been able to dodge the axe easily. But we were mages, and Ray was using his magic to steer the weapon. It crashed down upon my shield.
The blade was heavier than I had expected. The impact sent me stumbling to my knees as the shield splintered in two. The axe’s thick iron-tipped edge dug into my right shoulder, cutting a deep gash that was felt all the way down my arm.
I bit my lip, hard, and forced myself to stand. Blood was pouring from the wound and it was costing me everything not to cry out in pain. I glanced to Ray and saw another throwing axe had appeared in his hand. My heart stopped.
If he kept throwing those axes, he would be able to wear out my stamina much sooner than he did his own. Normal long-range weapons couldn’t break a shield. An axe could, but up until now I had foolishly assumed that it would not be a problem in distance encounters.
The second axe came hurtling toward me. I made a swift decision to change tactics. Instead of running away, I ran toward the axe. I threw my shield as hard as I could, sending the two items tottering off harmlessly to the left of the field.
I hadn’t wanted to engage Ray directly. He was tall and stocky, and I knew he would be able to outlast me in any weighted exchange. Especially with an open wound. But as long as he kept throwing those axes at me, I had no choice…unless I used my magic for something big, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to do that again, seeing as how my last two attacks had done little else than drain my magic.
Summoning two blades, a hefty broadsword for myself, and a spectral blade for an additional attack, I lunged at Ray with everything I had.
It was a mistake. As soon as I engaged him I realized how reckless the decision was. Ray only needed to wait for me to bleed out and make a mistake. I shouldn’t have rushed him.
It was too late though, and I tried my best to ameliorate the situation. As predicted, Ray made no attempt to expend himself. I felt like a fool as we continued to exchange blows. Piers had spent months lecturing us about the realities of injury in battle. “Nine times out of ten a knight dies not because of a direct wound, but minor ones that amass over time. The blood loss ultimately makes him dizzy and weak, which will cause him to make more mistakes than usual. This is what the enemy will wait for. The smart ones don’t strike to kill. They just wait for you to do the work for them.”
This can’t be how it ends.
I continued to lead the assault. Ignoring the throbbing of my right arm, I clutched the sword in both hands and delivered blow after blow with endless vigor. I tried to will my second casting to do the same, but Ray was prepared with a spectral blade of his own.
Our match transformed into a flurry of swordplay.