Celine stiffens and nods slowly. “Then we won’t train anymore today. You said it yourself: this magic is too dangerous to toss around while distracted.”
A muscle in Malach’s cheek twitches, but he doesn’t contradict her. Instead, he dips his chin and strides from the room, his gait choppy andstiff.
For a second, I think Celine will run after him. She picks up the sword instead.
“Are you still down to spar?” She looks at Riven, and he nods slowly before picking up the second sword.
His face and body warp. Red hair sprouts into a full beard on his chin before he reconsiders that and shifts his face back to the amber mask.
“That was unsettling.” Celine shudders.
Ciprian chuckles. “Yeah, but now his head is too small for that body. It’s creepy, Riv.”
Riven rolls his eyes. “I thought we would work up to the full thing,” he mutters.
“That’s sweet, but I duel him in three days. We don’t have time for gentle.”
To his credit, Riven takes her at her word and transforms fully into S’lach.
From his spot against the wall, Lyklan grunts. “If you find it acceptable, I can provide feedback,” he says.
Celine taps him carefully in the ankle with the flat of her blade. “You don’t work for me, Lyklan. If we’re going to be friends, which is what I’d prefer, then you’re going to have to stop being such a pussy and assert yourself.”
His answering grin makes him a little too handsome, but Celine doesn’t seem to notice. “I’d like that, too,” he says. “But in the spirit of friendship, I should tell you I won’t go easy on you like the others. They want to fuck you and that makes them weak—” He waits until Alistair stops snarling so his voice doesn’t get drowned out. “—when it comes to you, at least.”
“He’s not wrong.” I shrug, keeping a close eye on Ali in case Lyklan’s remark sends him over the edge. “In this room, I’m about as useful as that practice dummy, and I hate seeing you hurt, baby.”
Riven shrugs. “I won’t do any lasting damage, but I adorefighting with you, darling.” The ribbon of light flutters in my chest; Celine likes that a lot. Then, they’re saluting each other, swinging their blades in an intricate, coordinated arc that I wouldn’t have a prayer of copying.
The rest of us settle back against the wall, hip to hip.
“Is this how it feels to be a dance mom?” Ciprian grumbles. “I don’t know the protocol. Are we supposed to stay quiet, cheer, or do those silly little golf claps humans do?”
“You don’t have to be quiet,” Celine says, lunging deep and driving the tip of her blade toward Riven. He deflects it with his own and retreats two steps while maintaining constant focus on her. I don’t think he’s even blinking.
It goes on that way for half an hour.
Lyklan calls out observations from time to time, but I can tell he’s impressed. Only when they’re both dripping sweat, chests heaving from exertion, does he hold up his hand. “Halt. That’s enough for today.” He glances at Celine but doesn’t dip his chin like a regency servant in a period piece this time around. “You are more than capable of defeating S’lach in this duel.”
The compliment lands, and Celine’s shoulders relax as she lets her sword tip drop. “Thanks, Lyklan. I’m glad you think so.”
He inclines his head toward the door. “Malach agrees, but he fears the alternative too much to be rational.”
Celine sighs. “Can’t blame him there, I’m pretty afraid of the alternative myself.”
“Soon, you won’t have to be.”
Celine offers him her hand. “Nai khirith, mash n’tel,Lyklan.”
He blinks several times before locking their thumbs together and echoing her salute. I can’t be sure, because his expression doesn’t change, but I think he’s moved.
“I’ll clean and stow the weapons.” Lyklan retrieves Riven’s sword and strides over to the corpse of the slain practice dummy. “And I’ll secure more dummies for tomorrow.”There’s a wry vein of humor running through his voice, but it’s so subtle I may be imagining it. The guardian takes stoicism to a whole new level.
I take one look at Celine, sagging with exhaustion, and Riven, bands of static rolling down his face, and forget all about Lyklan. “Come on,” I say, climbing to my feet. “You two need to rinse off and relax. I’ll make drinks.”
Ciprian visibly perks up and grins. “Something sweet?”
My lips twitch. “I’m not sure I can match ‘you feel like home’ levels of sweet, but I’ll do my best.”