Crush the King (Crown of Shards #3)(114)

But I had to do something, or he was going to pound my shield into the ground and me right along with it. He might not be able to break through the shield, but he could certainly crush me to death with it. My mind raced, even as I huddled under the protective dome. I couldn’t beat him with my fighting skills. Not when he had so much magic.

But I could fix that.

My nose twitched, and I drew in a breath and tasted the air. Maximus still reeked of magic, but the aroma wasn’t quite as hot and caustic as before. He might have more power than me, but he was being reckless and burning through it quickly. I didn’t know if my immunity was strong enough to counter all that stolen magic running through his veins, but I couldn’t take much more of this beating.

So the next time he lifted his sword, I surged forward and shoved my shield straight into his chest. The move surprised Maximus, and he actually staggered back and lowered his blade.

Before he could recover, I whirled around the other way and lashed out with my own weapon. He jerked back, but he wasn’t quite quick enough, and my sword sliced across his cheek, drawing a thin line of blood.

The crowd roared in response. They had grown tired of him hammering his sword against my shield. Yeah, me too.

Maximus clapped his hand to his cheek. Then he held his palm out and stared down at it, as though surprised to see his own crimson blood glistening on his fingertips.

“You’re going to pay for that!” he hissed.

I could barely hear him over the crowd’s yells and screams, so I grinned and crooked my finger, daring the bastard to come at me again.

Maximus let out a loud roar and charged forward, but I spun away from him as coolly as I had before, doing a pretty twirl, as though I were on a dance floor. And I suddenly realized that I was on a dance floor. Somehow, despite all of Serilda’s and Xenia’s training, I had forgotten that. Whether it was in the arena or the throne room, dancing around my enemies was the thing that I did best, and it was going to help me win this battle, just like I’d won all the others so far.

I had been thinking about the fight all wrong. This was a long game, just like any other, and I didn’t have to immediately kill Maximus with one blow. I just had to wear him down and make him bleed, one small slice at a time. The more he bled, the more magic he would lose. That would level the playing field. After that, all I had to do was wait for him to get angry and impatient enough to make a mistake. And then I could finally kill the bastard.

That phantom music started playing in my mind, even louder than the crowd’s cheers, and I tuned out everything else. The people on the bleachers, my friends watching from the terrace, even Maximus spewing curses at me. Instead, I listened to that quick, steady beat, and I let it carry me away.

The king charged at me, and I spun to the side again. This time, I aimed lower and opened up a shallow slice above his right elbow. He howled and charged at me again, and I turned the other way, going lower still, and nicking the top of his left thigh.

Maximus growled and came at me yet again. This time, I threw my shield at him. He stopped, twisting to the side, although the shield bounced harmlessly off his chest and fluttered to the ground. But I was right behind it, slashing out with my sword and opening up a much deeper gash on his right thigh.

And then I went on the attack.

Spinning, turning, whirling, twirling. I danced quicker, better, and faster than I had ever danced in my entire life, even when I had performed the Tanzen Freund and the Tanzen Falter. And every time I moved, every time I whirled or twirled in close to Maximus, I cut the bastard, until thin lines of blood covered his skin like stripes of red paint.

Eventually, Maximus realized what I was doing, and he backed away and moved over to the edge of the black ring. “Do you really think all those little cuts are going to be enough to kill me?” he growled.

No, I didn’t. I hadn’t even come close to seriously wounding him. But I had made him bleed, which was far more important right now.

“I’m not trying to kill you,” I snarled back. “Can’t you feel what I’m doing? Can’t you feel all that stolen magic leaking out of your body with every drop of blood? With every beat of your heart? Because I certainly can, you arrogant bastard.”

Maximus frowned and stared down at the blood dripping off his fingertips. Plop-plop-plop. For a moment, I could have sworn I could hear all those precious drops hitting the dirt beneath our feet, each one taking a little bit more of his stolen magic along with it.

Now it was time to make him really bleed.

I lifted my sword and moved in for another strike, but Maximus was quicker, and he snapped up his hand. Only this time, he didn’t attack me with his sword.

No, this time, he unleashed his lightning.

I should have been expecting the sneak attack, especially since Mercer had done the same thing to Paloma during the tournament. But the move took me by surprise, and the cold lightning slammed straight into my chest and knocked me away from him. In an instant I was flat on my back on the arena floor. My sword flew out of my hand, and I didn’t see where it had landed.

All I could see was the lightning.

The bright, eerie purple lightning danced over my body much the same way that I had danced around Maximus. I screamed and pushed back with my own immunity, using my power to snuff out all that cold, crackling magic.

Slowly, much too slowly, the lightning dissolved in a shower of purple sparks. Just as slowly, I rolled over onto my knees and staggered back up and onto my feet. My skin was blue and numb, my hair was caked with frost, and my fighting leathers were stiff and frozen, but I faced Maximus again.