Cartilage crunched and blood gushed.
The boy’s grip on Damien broke and he clasped both hands to his face, trying to stop the flow of blood.
Minion number two rushed toward Damien, intent on avenging his bleeding comrade.
He stopped, planted his front foot and threw a punch at Damien’s face.
Damien slipped past the clumsy blow and kicked the boy in the side of his locked knee.
Another crunch echoed through the silent hall and the second henchman fell to the floor howling and clutching his busted knee.
Damien looked at Sig and raised an eyebrow. “Well?”
The muscles in Sig’s jaw worked as he glared at Damien. Finally he said, “Pity you’re only a first year. If you had a little more experience we could have a proper duel and I’d show you your place.”
Damien shrugged. “There are other sorts of duels. Hand fighting, swords, bows. Name your weapon and I’ll accept the challenge.”
Sig threw back his head and laughed. “You’d dare take me on with a blade? I was trained by the finest sword master in the north. A runt like you wouldn’t last ten seconds against me.”
Damien smiled. “You choose swords then?”
Sig stared at him. “Did you not hear what I said?”
“All I hear is a lot of noise. If you don’t have the guts to back up your big talk, get lost. I’ve got to get to class.”
“Fine, swords. Where and when?”
John got up and stepped between them. “If you two are serious about this I know a master that specializes in creating soul force weapons. The blades only interact with each other, they won’t cut flesh. I doubt either of your fathers would be happy if you killed each other. I’ll speak to him and if he agrees, tomorrow at noon in the arena. Sound good?”
Damien nodded, not in the least concerned about Sig’s skill. “Works for me.”
“Fine. Tomorrow at noon I’ll crush you in front of the whole school.” Sig spun and snarled at his bleeding companions. “Get yourselves to the healers.”
Damien watched the three of them walk, and in one case limp, out of the dining hall without bothering to get something to eat. “Charming fellow.”
“I see you’ve inherited your father’s tolerance for fools,” John said. “Did you really have to pick a fight your second day here?”
All around them conversation picked up. Damien suspected he was the main subject. “Technically I got here yesterday afternoon, so this is still my first day.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Sure. Let me know what the master says?”
“You bet.” They bumped fists and John left to handle the details.
Whatever he said, Damien felt certain John would persuade whoever he needed to in order to make the fight happen. Damien grinned. He hadn’t fought a normal person in a couple of years. Tomorrow promised to be fun.
“Are you crazy?” Eli stared at him, his face pale.
“No, why?”
“Why? You just picked a fight with the biggest kid in the school and the son of a duke at that. He’ll kill you.”
“You think? John said the soul force weapons wouldn’t cut flesh.”
“That’s not what I–”
“Don’t pay any attention to him.” Amanda talked over Eli. She swung her tiny fists around, barely missing giving Eli a black eye. “That was amazing the way you took those two down. I bet you can beat Sig with one hand tied behind your back.”
Damien smiled. “Thanks for the vote of confidence. I need to get to class.”
He left the dining hall and made his way to Mistress Ann’s training room. He knocked on the door and it opened on its own. His teacher sat in the same chair as the day before, wearing a similar dress only in red instead of black.
Damien bowed. “Ma’am.”
She smiled and waved him over to the empty chair. “You’re an early riser. I saw you running the wall this morning. That sort of thing isn’t required here.”
“Yes, ma’am, but at some point I assume I’ll return home and if I show up at The Citadel out of shape I’ll never hear the end of it.” He sat and faced her.
“You’re the first boy I’ve taught who focused above my neck and not below. Do you not think I’m pretty?”
Damien coughed, trying to cover his discomfort. What kind of question was that for a teacher to ask a student? He wasn’t sure how to answer her. “You’re very pretty, ma’am, but my girlfriend wouldn’t appreciate me ogling another girl.”
“You have a girlfriend, how sweet. Back at The Citadel?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“What’s she like?” She leaned forward, her cleavage once more threatening to spill out of her dress.
How did one describe a demon soul bound to a sword that you could only interact with on a mental level? Damien had never really thought about it. He’d loved Lizzy for as long as he could remember. “She’s beautiful, sharp, with a wicked sense of humor. She doesn’t always get along with Dad though.”
“That’s nice. Okay, I see your shield is holding. Let’s try the trick with the light again. Remember, a quarter of a grain of rice.”
Damien did as she said and this time the light didn’t blind them. He grinned. He could do this.
“That’s excellent, Damien. Now let’s try a simple soul force construct. You understand what I mean by that, right?”
“Like Master Shen’s griffin?”
“Exactly, though we’ll try for something a little simpler. Watch me.”
Damien focused like she’d taught him and watched her form a blob of golden energy into the crude likeness of a cat. It landed on the floor and ran around the training room, jumping and batting the air with its paws.
“Now you try.”
“Do you want a cat?”
She waved her hand. “Whatever you want, just not too big.”
Damien took his own blob of energy and formed it into a four-legged shape with a muzzle and tail. When he finished, the golden dog towered over the little cat, its head barely missing the ceiling. He winced. “Too big?”
“A little. Try compressing it. Don’t take any energy away, just squish it down smaller.”
Damien concentrated and the
