Fortune Favors the Cruel - Kel Carpenter Page 0,73

a walking stick, albeit one that could do some damage.

And best of all, something she hadn’t mastered yet. The staff was a challenge.

Siva chuckled. “Learn to better use it as an extension of your body. You use it as you would a shorter weapon, but you’re not so unwieldy that you haven’t practiced with something like it before. You don’t hesitate, nor do you pull punches—so to speak—but you ride your instincts and what you need is practice.”

Quinn nodded. “Thank you.”

Siva grinned, her chuckles fading. “My staff, please?”

“What?” Quinn frowned, her hand clenching around the wood she held within her grip. “I thought you said I could keep it.”

Siva shook her head, wild strands of her blonde hair swaying with the movement. “If you beat me,” she replied. “You did not beat me.”

Quinn didn’t think, but let her fear rise up. Siva’s eyes widened as if she saw what was coming. She stepped back just as Quinn swung, holding the end low to the ground. With her focus on Quinn, she didn’t see the blunt end until it was too late. Siva grunted as she fell backwards and landed with an umph.

Quinn sat up and repositioned the staff at an angle, the end digging into the other woman’s throat. Siva swallowed, a grin tugging at her lips.

“What was that?” Quinn asked, letting her power fade away just as quickly as it had risen.

Siva coughed, sitting up to watch Quinn’s form. After a moment of tense silence, she nodded. “I stand corrected. You may keep it.”

There was a twinkle in her eyes that told Quinn she wasn’t that annoyed with being outdone. Besides, Quinn really wanted to practice with it more.

“Quinn!” Draeven’s abrupt call drew their attention. Just behind the nuisance of a man was an even bigger problem Quinn hadn’t wanted to deal with today.

Gritting her teeth, Quinn slowly stood up from the ground and reached down with her free hand to help Siva up as well. “Your master seems to be in a dark mood,” she commented. “Thorne said he was seeing him today. Perhaps talks did not go well.” Siva eyed Quinn as though she might have been the cause of the dark look Lazarus was shooting their way.

“I doubt it was Thorne,” Quinn muttered under her breath as she strode back towards the group.

Lazarus stood with his arms crossed over his massive chest, watching her with cold, dead eyes. She had no idea why he seemed … angry wasn’t the right word, but perhaps heated. There was a fire burning in his cold eyes, and Quinn was sure if she put her hand out towards it again, she might get burned. She wouldn’t. Not after the night they’d had because clearly neither of them had any plans on acknowledging whatever was building between them.

“What do you want?” Quinn asked sharply, glancing sideways as Siva pressed the notch on her staff and then pushed the wood back inward until the weapon was once again a smaller, forearm-length rod. Quinn manipulated her own staff until she attained the same result.

“We have business to attend to,” Lazarus said. “Come with me.”

Quinn moved to the side and bent to retrieve her practice sword as well. “Oh? And just where are we going, your highness?” she taunted.

Lazarus scowled at her but didn’t say anything as he turned to Draeven. “Stay here. We will be a few days. No more. We’ll be leaving for Ilvas when I return so make sure things are ready.”

Draeven nodded. “I understand.”

“I don’t,” Quinn snapped. “Where are we going?”

Once again, Lazarus didn’t answer. He merely looked her over as sweat sluiced down her skin and Quinn had no doubt that her cheeks had turned pink from the sun and exertion. “You may want to wash before we leave,” he said. “It will be a short journey compared to our last few weeks, but we go on foot. No horses.”

Glaring as Lazarus turned and strode away, Quinn only muttered under her breath as she followed at a much slower pace. “Thank the gods for that.”

Bitter Truths

“It’s better to be intimately familiar with pain and take the bitter sting of truth instead of the sickly sweetness of a lie.”

— Quinn Darkova, vassal of House Fierté, fear twister

“How much farther?” Quinn groaned, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. She’d bathed before they left, not that it did her much good once they began the steep uphill climb to the top of the mountain. Over half the day had