Dark Heart of Magic (Black Blade #2)(70)

I didn’t know exactly how Deah’s mimic Talent worked, but I’d thought it must be similar to my own soulsight. It seemed I was right. Deah stared into Katia’s eyes the whole time, as if she was peering into the other girl the way I could look into other people. The longer Deah stared at Katia, the more she started to move exactly like the other girl, flowing from one attack position to the next, until it seemed as though Katia were fighting herself. And not only that, but it almost seemed as if Deah grew stronger and stronger as the match went on, while Katia kept slowly weakening.

Katia knew the tide was turning, and she snarled and lashed out with a series of quick attacks, designed to end the fight. But Deah was too smart, too experienced, too good, for that, and it didn’t work. Every time Deah blocked her latest blow, it only made Katia that much angrier. My eyes locked with Katia’s for a second as she whirled around, her hazel-green gaze burning brighter than ever before.

Her red-hot anger, rock-hard determination, and aching desperation punched me in the gut one right after another. Bam-bam-bam. Katia wanted to win the tournament, but even more than that, she had this hot, desperate need to beat Deah, as though it was more important to her than anything else.

But she wasn’t going to be able to do it.

Deah was clearly the better fighter. Oh, she wasn’t quicker or stronger than Katia—I doubted that anyone was right now—but Deah could think ahead and plan out her moves in a way that Katia couldn’t, just as I’d been able to think ahead in my fight with Devon. Katia didn’t realize it, but Deah was slowly driving her toward the cold spring in the center of the ring. In seven more moves, Katia would go into the water and Deah would win the match.

The fight dragged on, the cheers getting louder and louder with every sharp, ringing blow the two girls exchanged. Katia raised her sword high, putting everything she had into a strike aimed squarely at Deah’s head, as though she really wanted to cleave Deah’s skull in two with her sword. Everyone in the stadium gasped, including me—because if that blow connected, then Deah was dead.

But Deah managed to bring her own weapon up in time to block Katia’s sword, the muscles in her arms standing out and showing what an enormous effort it was. Deah stared into Katia’s eyes, dug her feet into the ground, and threw off the other girl, who shrieked in anger. Deah snarled back at her, and the two of them started circling each other again, with Deah still driving Katia closer and closer to the cold spring the whole time.

Katia was in a rage now, and she whipped her sword back and forth, and back and forth, moving harder and faster than ever before. But Deah matched her move for move.

Finally, Katia made a mistake, the same one Devon had made. She got too close to the edge of the cold spring, and her foot slipped. Katia windmilled her free arm for balance and Deah took advantage, stepping up and slicing her blade across the back of Katia’s sword hand. That small motion pushed Katia over the edge and sent her toppling backward, straight into the water.

Deah stepped back.

Katia came up sputtering. She shoved her wet hair off her face and stared in disbelief at the blood welling up out of the shallow cut on her hand. Her fingers tightened around her sword, making more blood ooze out of the wound, and she scrambled out of the water and surged forward as though she was going to keep on attacking Deah, even though the match was over.

One of the officials quickly stepped in front of Katia, cutting her off, even as another official reached for Deah’s hand and held it up.

“Winner, Deah Draconi!” the official yelled.

The stadium erupted in cheers. Deah glanced up at the Draconi box, giving Seleste and Victor a happy wave. Then she went over to Katia and held out her hand for the other girl to shake, but Katia gave her a disgusted look, whirled around, and stormed out of the stadium.

Deah kept smiling and waving to the crowd. Beside me, Devon, Felix, Poppy, and Oscar were talking about the match, but I only had eyes for Katia.

I slipped away from the others and followed Katia over to the Volkov tent, which was deserted, since everyone had been gathered around the fence, watching the match. Katia slung her sword as hard as she could, and the weapon zipped through the air and stuck in one of the wooden poles holding up the tent, wobbling back and forth.

“Dammit!” she screamed.

Katia went on a rampage—knocking weapons off tables, dashing cups and plates to the ground, and slamming her fists into every single thing she could. I’d heard of ’roid rage before, but Katia was beyond even that. I moved away from the tent entrance, not wanting to embarrass her with the realization that someone was watching her epic meltdown.

Finally, after a couple of minutes, the noise and cursing stopped, and Katia stepped back outside. She saw me standing near the tent. She hesitated a moment, then strode over to me, looking out into the stadium. Deah was still there, smiling, waving, and signing autographs for some of the tourist rubes, as well as members of the other Families. Katia scowled, white-hot rage flaring in her hazel eyes.

“You fought a good match,” I said, trying to cheer her up. “The way you moved out there . . . it was incredible how fast you were.”

She gave me a disgusted look as though I’d just said the stupidest thing ever. “Not fast enough. Not good enough. I’m never fast enough, I’m never good enough. Not with her around.”

She glared at Deah a final time, then stomped off into the fairgrounds. I let her go. Yeah, it sucked to lose, especially to the same person over and over again, but that was life sometimes. Katia seemed to specifically blame Deah because she’d lost, but Deah had clearly been the better fighter. I might not like Deah, but she’d won fair and square, just as I had against Devon.