But then I recalled something August used to say after our practices on the piste:Every opponent has a weakness. You must root it out and exploit it.
I resigned myself to dodging his attacks until I could identify what his weak point was. Mirroring one another’s movements, we paced the room in a circle, muscles tensed, eyes vigilantly watching, waiting for the other to lunge.
“Did you know that this blade is so notorious, it has its own name?” Casimir asked, a smile playing across his lips.
He was trying to distract me. A clever enough tactic,I thought.
“No, I didn’t,” I answered.
As he opened his mouth to reply, I lunged at him, hoping to grasp the element of surprise. He dodged my attack more quickly than I’d expected, but as I surged past him, he caught my arm and tugged, throwing me off balance. I nearly staggered to the floor, cursing as I caught myself.
The Darkseer laughed quietly as I stumbled and spun around breathing hard. “Nice one.” He smirked, still stalking me. “Too bad it waspitifullypredictable.”
Backing away, I gritted my teeth and gripped my knife harder.I much preferred fencing to this,I thought. My gaze darted to Casimir’s feet, searching for an opportunity to push him off balance. But his feet were as graceful and lithe as his tongue.
Without warning, he lunged. I realized his intent just in time to dodge the attack. I hurled my body to the left, barely avoiding a collision, but Casimir never once moved his blade in a slashing motion. His goal then was not to harm me, but to grab me with his opposing hand. He wanted to disarm me.
Well,I thought,I had no such qualms about slicing him. Not that I wanted to grievously injure him, but it would be gratifying to humble him, just a little.
Casimir smirked as though he could read the bloodlust on my face. “Allow me to give you a few tips for fighting Daemons. Above all else, maintain distance. If you allow a Daemon like me to get close enough to touch you, it’s over.”
“Thanks for pointing out the obvious,” I deadpanned as we continued to circle one another.
“Did you know this blade is called theUmbra Noctis?”.
I didn’t deign to reply, but this did not deter Casimir.
“Would you like to know how it earned its name?” he pressed.
I ground my teeth in frustration. He was trying to distract me by talking about that gods-damned dagger. Hoping to catch him by surprise, I swung out, aiming for his left arm, which remained unprotected, but he knocked my wrist aside as though it were made of paper. It was all I could do to keep my grip on my blade as I stumbled and growled in vexation.
“This isn’t your usual sort of dagger,” he went on, smiling crookedly at my obvious irritation. “The obsidian is enchanted to absorb venom and poison.”
I faltered, momentarily forgetting what I was supposed to be doing. A dagger that could absorb poison?
Casimir continued, “Umbra Noctisis Latin for Shadow Blade. When wielded by an expert assassin, its victims never see death coming.” His finger traced the edge of the blade. “Well, that, and it’s bloody sharp.” He smirked. “You can see why I felt uneasy about leaving a weapon like this in the hands of someone like Zhara.”
I ground my teeth in anger. “And you were going to train with it? What if you’d cut me by accident?”
“You really think I’d be so careless?” he queried, moving closer, circling me.
I copied his movements, my breaths coming harder now. My gaze darted from his face to his dominant hand, assessing for signs of an impending attack. I could feel the next one coming; his energy hummed through the air like a storm just before lightning struck.
“Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you watch me,” he cut in. “I don’t need to taste lies to know when they’re falling from your lips.”
I knew he was goading me, trying to lure me into distraction, and fuck if it wasn’t working. Anticipation crept around me like a shroud, every limb in my body taut and braced for his attack.
“Fine,” I spat, rising to his bait. “Maybe I don’t trust you not to accidentally slice me with that thing.”
A hiss slipped past his lips. “I figured as much. Try and remember your training. Or maybe you should just pretend I’m August,” he added.
As I opened my mouth to retort, he rushed forward, seizing my wrist with one hand and twisting my arm at the elbow, throwing me off balance. The air whooshed from my lungs as my back slammed against his chest. He squeezed my wrist until my fingers loosened, my blade falling to the floor with a clatter. It all happened so fast, I could do nothing more than gasp in pain and surprise.
“Don’t give rise to my bait,” he growled.
I struggled to free myself from his iron grasp, but Casimir only pinned my dominant arm behind my back, eliciting a sharp pain and a whimper from my lips. His breath tickled my ear as he laughed softly. The sound of it sent a shiver dancing along my spine.
“Are you afraid of me, Farrow?”