next time we’ll let you charge in yelling Stoooooout,” Justin promised. “Pinkie swear.”
“Eh?”
“Never mind. It’s not important.” He flashed a grin at Tina. “Positions, everyone.”
The three of them shared a fist-bump before Tina and Lyle ran up the stairs. It wasn’t long until the dwarf gave a low whistle followed by two thumps of his foot against the floor. Justin faded into the shadows and began to wish he hadn’t chosen the fire potion. The blade shone slightly and he wondered if someone would see it.
Their opponents circled the house once. He could hear their footsteps and see them pass the windows, but their shapes were faint through the thick, wavy glass and he was fairly sure they had no idea he was there. Upstairs, he heard a faint creak as Tina shifted slightly on the balls of her feet.
Only one came into the house, and he wished he knew whether or not they were alone or if the other one waited outside.
With a silent prayer that Tina would understand why he chose not to engage, he decided to remain in his hiding place. The person stopped inside the door and must have scanned the room before they strode forward to ascend the stairs. Their steps were sure and light-footed.
Whether she knew what he was going for or not, he didn’t know. Either way, she rose to the occasion. Their opponent—a man, judging by the voice—screamed followed by a crash.
One strike was all it had taken. He smiled.
The second team member had, in fact, waited outside the door. Now, he barreled in, yelling his team member’s name. His gaze was so focused on the top of the stairs that when Justin stepped out of the shadows, he had no way to stop in time.
The man was armed with daggers. Justin drove him back with a quick attack. He wished he had his sword, which had a longer range, but he still did better than he had with the daggers, and that was what counted.
Not only that, his opponent looked genuinely unnerved by the fact that he attacked with a flaming sword. He made a half-hearted attempt to fight, circled away, and tried to strike under his adversary’s range of motion, but he received a boot in his face for the trouble.
Justin hadn’t trained with Lyle for nothing.
As the man reeled back, he stamped hard, directly on his hand. He had a moment of guilt and wondered how injuries were healed there, but he was certain no one would let this man die. With a swift swipe, he opened a cut in the other man’s neck and wasn’t surprised, after his first match, to see the blue shield come up and immobilize the contestant.
Quickly, he slid into the shadows of his hiding place.
Out of the corner of his eye and through the wavy glass, he caught sight of movement. He gave a sharp whistle and only a few moments later, all three of the other team members reached the door. There was a tense, whispered discussion before they ran to the stairs as a group.
“Lyle!” Justin yelled. Tina would need backup, and there was precious little time for her to call for it.
The last team member up the stairs spun and when Justin stepped out of the shadows, she leapt the banister and attacked without hesitation.
From upstairs, shouts and pounding feet were very audible. It still sounded like there were four people moving around. He decided his warning had to be good enough and focused on his fight. There wasn’t another option because his opponent had a battle-ax, and he had the feeling that he stared into a future where Tina had more practice and was on the opposing side.
It was terrifying. The woman had swung immediately into the offensive as she came up from her crouch. Her eyes were narrowed and she fought single-mindedly. The battle-ax must have been what she trained with because she used it as if it were a piece of her own body. Muscles rippled in her arms while she parried his attacks.
Whether she simply put on a good show or she was freakishly strong, Justin didn’t know, but he did remember one other piece of his grandfather’s advice. The best time to end a fight was immediately—better a quick fight than a pretty one.
He launched into a counterattack of his own. Strength and stamina aside, the sheer weight of the battle-ax made its swings slower than his sword. They weren’t as slow as he would