Phaestion pulls the siren sword and dagger from his cases. He flourishes both weapons and crouches like a cat. Alberich smiles and beckons the boy forward.
If Phaestion was a phenom with the trident, he’s inhuman with the swords. He twirls them with incredible speed. Siren steel glints in the sunlight, but Alberich dodges every stroke. Phaestion’s brow furrows with concentration. He increases the speed of his attacks. Alberich uses the metal stump of his missing hand to parry the sword as he spins away from the dagger’s thrusts.
Phaestion leaps onto a boulder and ricochet-jumps off the rock. He brings the blade of his sword stabbing down. Alberich’s eyes widen as he ducks under the blow, but not quickly enough. The razor-sharp metal slices open his muscular back in rivulets of crimson. Alberich ignores it and barrels into Phaestion’s legs midair. The red-haired boy tumbles end over end and hits the sand with a thud.
“Hold!” Alberich calls out. “Very good, Phaestion, but that was definitely not your weakest weapon.”
Phaestion cocks his head to the side in that way I’m beginning to recognize as belonging to him. “There’s no weapon that I’m weak with, Master.” He puts his fist into his palm and bows.
After what I’ve just witnessed, I believe him.
Alberich nods. “Let your enemy think you’re weak where you’re strong. Cloak weakness in strength. Still, you did not follow my instructions to the letter,” he admonishes. “First kata. Now.”
A hint of anger flashes across Phaestion’s gray eyes as he picks up his swords and begins practicing in the air.
“Edmon, choose your strongest weapon.”
I freeze. Holding Phaestion’s siren sword was the first time I’ve ever even held a weapon, much less a weakest or strongest. With hesitation, I approach the spears and swords the seneschal’s staked into the earth.
What am I going to do?
“Be quick about it, boy!” Alberich commands.
I hastily grab a spear and a shield from the sand.
My father was an expert with the spear. Maybe I will be, too?
I heft the spear in one hand and fumble to tighten the shield to the forearm of the other. I try to place my legs in a wide stance as I saw Phaestion do.
“Begin,” Alberich commands.
I’m more afraid of what will happen if I don’t try, so I thrust the spear forward, but it’s half-hearted, weak. The big man easily bats it aside, knocking it from my grasp. I immediately back away, expecting him to pummel me to the ground or at least end the farce by shouting, “Hold!”
Instead, he gestures for me to pick up the spear. I kneel slowly, watching him, unsure if this is a trick.
“Again,” he commands.
This time I thrust with more surety. Still, the big man dodges easily and slams his stump into my shield. I’m knocked into the sand, unhurt but stunned. He takes a step forward, and I scramble to get up. He comes for me again. I run out of the way. This appears to be a successful tactic. He lunges for me, and I scurry from his grasp.
“You’re quick when you stop thinking and just act,” he grunts. “But you can’t win by running, Edmon.”
I can’t win at all! I want to scream. Why bother trying?
He rushes forward. I thrust the spear. He brutally knocks it away. He punches both arms into my shield, which I raise just in time to save myself. I hunker down behind the barrier. Blow after blow I suffer as he continues to pound relentlessly. I am a nail being hammered into the earth. Finally, he rips the shield from my arm and tosses it aside. I scramble away. I barely make it a meter before he clutches the scruff of my neck with the claw of his good hand.
“I yield!” I shout pathetically.
“Is that what you are going to do when someone tries to take your life from you? Or the lives of your family?” he asks scornfully. “Yield and hope that they take pity on you?”
No, damn it! Don’t cry. Do anything, but don’t cry!
I look over to Phaestion. He looks away. My humiliation is painful even for him to watch.
“Maybe you aren’t worth keeping alive then,” the seneschal says. He lifts me into the air. He smacks me against a boulder and pins me there as he chokes me. I can’t breathe. I struggle.
“You are not fit to be a son,” Alberich growls.
Blackness comes for me.
“Stop!” someone far-off shouts. “You’re killing him!”
Then there’s nothing but the singing of the sirens.
A cry of pain—mine? The fingers on my throat release. I gasp for air. I run with all my might to get away, but I run directly into Alberich. We tumble in the sand. He claws for me. From somewhere deep inside, somewhere primal, a scream arises and bursts from my mouth. I attack for my life. I claw and kick. I punch and bite. I fight with every fiber of my being to survive. My knuckles grow slick with blood. A hunk of meat comes away in my teeth. I don’t stop. Something caged inside me has been set free.
Suddenly, I’m hurled to the ground. I continue to claw, but one arm is pinned, then the other. My chest is compressed under the weight of something heavy.
“Stop!” I hear the shout. Phaestion comes into focus on top of me. “Stop!” he shouts again. “You’re going to kill him if you don’t stop!”
I stop thrashing, and he slowly gets off me. I sit up, dazed. The cloud of rage that had descended upon me has lifted. I look at Alberich. He lies unmoving, blood soaking into the sand around him.
Have I killed him? I taste the iron tang of blood in my mouth.
Run, boy, run! I need to get out of this place. Anywhere. Fly to the stars.
I jump to my feet.
“Wait!” Phaestion calls out behind me. “He needs help!”
I sprint uphill and don’t look back. Through the town. I don’t stop. I run to the only place where I’m safe—off the path and through the cracks of the two boulders. I tumble down the rocky path that overlooks the Southern Sea.
She is there, Nadia, as if she knew I would come. She stands at my approach.
Doesn’t she know I need to be alone?
“Edmon?” she calls out.
I try to answer and can’t. My adrenaline worn off, I realize I’m in terrible pain. My left arm screams. My throat is scratchy, my voice almost gone. I collapse.
“You’re hurt!” she exclaims.
She comes up underneath my arm to support me. I wince at her touch. The next thing I know, I’m on my back looking at the sky. Tears stream down my face.
I always seem to be crying. The world just seems such a hateful place.
“What happened?” she asks.
When I calm down and can breathe again, I tell her of the arrival of Phaestion and the commencement of my training. I finish with my assault on Alberich. I tell her she was wrong, that my father will never let me go.
There is a beat of silence between us. Then she says solemnly, “The midday rest is almost over. We need to get you back.”
“I can’t go back, Nadia,” I implore.