Human Bait

Chapter 50: Wart

My breath trapped in frozen lungs, eyes locked on the blade. If Uzmed wanted to kill me, he would have done that without waking me — wouldn't he?

Unless he wanted to test me first.

Do you scream? Do you run? Or do you fight back?

Accepting the knife, I rose to my feet.

We circled each other for longer than we had during previous training sessions. I gripped the hilt in clammy fingers while Uzemd held his loose and relaxed.

Before his first jab, his shoulders shifted, telegraphing his intentions. I jerked back, dodging the blade in plenty of time. Still, my hands grew shaky.

Uzmed's smooth tenor matched the cadence of his prowl. "You still want to hear about Arakko?"

My voice and feet both stuttered. "If you want to tell me."

"I've been in love twice. The first was Razalu's mother, and her heart gave out just months after our baby girl was born. That time, Ether failed us. But the second one... I failed him. His death was my fault."

I breathed an exhale. "You were in love with Arakko?"

He tipped his head at my blade. "Attack me."

When I gave a half-hearted swipe, he flicked my blade away with a clank of metal. I stumbled into the dresser.

He cocked an impatient hip as he waited for me to recover. "I hated Northerners even before one gave me this." He traced the tip of his knife down the ridge of his scar. "And at first, I hated Arakko even more than the rest. The bastard used to sit back and fold his arms, all smug, while the rest of us deliberated problems. Like his infinite wisdom surpassed humankind. Like he held Ether in the palm of his hand."

A fond half-smile touched his lips. "Somehow, he enchanted me. He was the fucking sun and the moon, all in one. And when he died, night and day both lost their light."

He resumed circling me, slow and weaving like a lazy predator. His knife sliced toward me, less forewarned this time. I side-stepped, and his blade swept past my hip close enough I felt the wind. Sweat trickled down my back.

I swallowed to wet my dry throat, torn between wanting to gather more information and fearing for my own safety. As usual, recklessness prevailed.

"I don't see why you blame yourself."

"Arakko told me he suspected the Noble Forces had caused the Infection and that your mother's death was no accident. And you know how I responded? I laughed. And worse — I told the rest of the Sentries what he had said." His feet slowed and blade lowered. "He left the Headquarters that very night. A few weeks later, he was found dead."

My knife dropped to my side, half-forgotten. Uzmed's remorse appeared genuine, but was he only guilty of miscalculating the risk? Or could he have orchestrated the death of his own lover?

"You think the Noble Forces killed him?" I asked.

"Somebody did." He trailed a finger over the sharp edge of his blade, absently watching the shimmering silver. "And after that, I stopped caring so much about saving the world. I just wanted the rest of the world to feel my pain."

"But what about Razalu? You must want a better world for her."

Emerald eyes pierced me. "Sometimes. Other times, I just don't see the point in all of it."

"The point in all of what?"

He dropped back into a defensive stance and curled the fingers of his free hand to beckon me. "Attack me."