Chapter 231
Im gonna crap my pants. Nick said.
Somehow, I didnt strangle him.
After the terms were finalized, a handful of shadow people escorted us to the square open area at the end of the hall, pushing and prodding if we moved too slowly. The wide ream of royal red carpet bisected the square, which I eyeballed at about twenty-five square feet. There was ample flat terrain, more than enough for a simple duel.
And why are you crapping your pants?
I thought the Knights of the Round Table were a myth. Nick ground his teeth, leaning forward a bit to sneak a glance at Stonewall, who was conversing with Dent. But that guy has seen some shit. Like Battle of the Bastards level shit.
No, he thinks hes seen some shit.
I think hes seen some shit. Nick pointed at his own chest for emphasis, on the verge of panic. He fought the Romans and won, Matt. As in the Roman Empire? As in the dudes went to war in skirts and despite that, still somehow conquered almost everything?
My mind ticked. Okay, one, the Knights of the Round Table are fictional. The Roman Empire wasnt. They never actually fought, and if that guy comes from a version of Arthurian lore where they fought the Romans, it was probably some sort of weird 12th century British propaganda.
How does that help me when fictional-propaganda-man is standing right there? Nick hissed.
I rubbed the bridge of my nose. Just, chill. Give me a second.
Hes so casual about it. Cool. Like hes the real deal. Nick said, genuine admiration in his voice.
I peered at Nick. Do you want to fight him or marry him?
Nick extended his arms, Wheres the none of the above option?
Thats the one where you dont tell me, confidently, that you want a fair duel only to crumble like a house of cards shortly after, I snapped.
Fuck. Nick said, loud enough that the heads of several nearby shadow people turned our way. Fuck.
Then Im fighting him next. And with that Nick walked away, towards the center of the square.
Wait, I called after him, We need to strategize
He didnt even bother to look back and didnt stop until he reached the center of the square.
I rubbed my mouth and hid a smile behind my hand. The truth was, Nick didnt need a tactics session. He needed motivation. And sure, I could have mentioned the fact that Id taken Dent as a contingency, which made the ocular threat approximately as dangerous as a safety cone, but why deny Nick the fuel? I hadnt forgotten how he sprung into overdrive when Id been captured by the spider during the trial. Hed gone from capable but inexperienced fighter to absolute wrecking ball.
Talias eyes bored into me from where she heeled at my feet. Id ask if anyones ever called you a bastard, but the answer is clear.
Uh-huh. I glanced at her. Was I right?
Talia looked away, towards where Nick stood at the center. Not entirely. She switched to nonverbal communication, voice echoing in my mind. They are only Eldritch in part. The mana in these ripples is aberrant to begin with. That, combined with their abandonment and subsequent bitterness tainted their souls, compounding until they drew too deeply on the wrong sort of mana.
Is there enough Eldritch in the mix that you could do serious damage? I asked.
Perhaps. But I do not know if my purification abilities alone will be enough to turn the tide.
That was fine. If Nick could deliver the goods and everything stayed above board, it might not even be an issue. I settled in at the edge of the circle, across from Dent. He was doing something with his thumbs again, trying to get in my head. I ignored him and took in the situation. There were knights on both sides of the circle. Some were obviously keeping tabs on me, but most were on Stonewalls side of the arena, murmuring amongst themselves. From the body language, they werent exactly worried, but they werent thrilled, either. And unless I was reading it wrong, several of them seemed to be overtly glaring in Dents direction.
Not happy with the terms of the duel. Something in there hurts him. Good.
Stonewall didnt share their concerns. Hed crossed his arms and conversed with Nick at the center, though Nick seemed a lot less interested in conversation than mean-mugging Dent. His mouth was a straight line, his eyes cold, and for a moment, I could guess why Hastur wanted Nick emotionless and free of guilt.
Because if he ever looked at me that way?
Id start running.
Having grown tired of all the preamble, Stonewall took a few loose steps back and stopped, lifting his sword in simple salute. Knights and shadows alike fell silent.
Nick returned a deep nod that was almost a bow. Then brought his weapons to bear.
