After more water and more conversation with Mama Cinder, who took their hats and shirts from them, Gray and Rynn went to one of the sparring pavilions. Around the pavilion were racks filled with iron swords.

  When Gray saw the rectangle of sand underneath the pavilion’s awning, he was instantly taken back to the arena, on the day of the Battle Royale. The sand was there to soak up the blood, and it was easy to replace with clean sand when it got too bloody.. The same could be said for gladiators.

  Rynn picked up a solid short sword, thick and heavy. She swung it effortless, muscles flexing. After the run, her mana rash was more enflamed. He couldn’t stare at it, though, or else she might think he was staring at something else.

  He grabbed a similar sword. “Are you sure you don’t want to fight with sticks?

  “Yes.” Rynn took off her sandals and walked barefoot onto the sands. “These are bloodless blades.” She laughed merrily. “From the look on your face, I see you don’t know what that means. They are enchanted so we can fill them with our mana. Once charged, the magic will prevent us from inflicting serious wounds on each other. Even if I slashed you with all of my might, it would only leave a scratch, and it shouldn’t break bones.”

  “Shouldn’t break bones?” He asked with a wry grin.

  “Accidents do happen. It depends on the amount of mana you use and how protected the defender is.”

  Gray took up a short sword and walked out to join her. “Very well, Miss Yes. How do I enchant the sword? Keep in mind, it will be my first time charging anything.”

  She looked uncertain. “You should feel something just holding the sword. You should be able to easily fill it with your mana.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t feel a thing.”

  “Maybe just…just try?” she suggested.

  He closed his eyes, and he felt his core, and he felt her core, but the sword only felt like a hunk of normal metal in his hands. Still, he tried to push his mana into the bloodless blade.

  He looked down at the practice sword. “Maybe something happened?”

  She touched the edge. “No. Feel mine.”

  He saw that her sword glowed with a yellow light. Being careful, he gingerly touched the edge. It was sharp but it seemed that edge would adjust if it encountered flesh.

  At once Gray knew it was because he didn’t have a resonance. He might have a vast amount of mana in his core, but he was still so limited.

  He winced. “Looks like I can’t use the bloodless blades.”

  She shrugged. “It’s fine. There is a dull blade over here. Can you be careful?”

  He nodded. “I can. And it sounds like I’m relatively safe, but my pride might take a beating.”

  “You can’t be that bad. Captain Sevanya chose you to be on her squad.”

  “So you’d think, Miss Yes. So you’d think.”

  He took up the dull short sword and faced her.

  The elf girl brought the sword to her chest and bowed. “No anger. Only patience. A touch wins.”

  “What’s that, Miss Yes?”

  “It’s a traditional orcish call to arms and sometimes part of the proctor’s salute. I had private lessons from an orcish mage. My sword play is excellent.”

  “I’ve watched men kill each other with swords for most of my life. It probably makes us equals.” He said it as a joke, but he was pretty sure Rynn didn’t take it that way. He wasn’t going to ask about all the other things he didn’t understand. He was confident he’d learn in time.

  She frowned. “Yes. Well. I will salute you, and you’ll salute me, and we’ll agree on terms. Are you in agreement?”

  He echoed her words and gestures. “No anger. Only patience. A touch wins.”

  She nodded. “Winner wins a shekel. This will give me a chance to get my cut of today’s profits. No cheating this time.”

  He was surprised. “I didn’t cheat. I—”

  She lunged forward, trying to touch him with the sword.

  He brought his own weapon up, muscles straining. Thankfully, he’d graduated from the stick, or else he would’ve been too slow.

  The blades clanged against each other but Rynn’s sword made a strange buzzing sound. Sparks rained down onto the sand.

  Gray danced back. “You are learning.”

  She smiled. “You tricked me when we raced. I thought I would return the favor.”

  They circled around the sand, gauging each other. Gray knew to keep his balance, never committing, always nimble. She clearly had training because she was looking to see if she could catch him off balance. There was no way that was going to happen.

  He didn’t trust himself to defend himself very well against her. She’d spent her life training, and he’d spent his life beginning a day of training before having to sit down and watch. Still, Master Kreef’s lessons were ingrained in him, since he’d heard them shouted in the area over and over. Master Kreef wasn’t just a brutal man—he enjoyed the brutality. You can win if you break their skulls right away. Punch them, scratch them, stab them, hack them. You don’t need to defend yourself if your opponent is broken or dead. When in doubt, attack first. The crowds like a fighter not a thinker.

  That lesson had sunk in like nothing else. He’d thought that the crowds would never love him…until that day with Carter. Poor Carter.

  Master Kreef was wrong, though…about so many things. Crowds might’ve liked a fighter, but they loved a winner. And he was a winner. He’d won his life in the Battle Royale, and he’d won his way into the bedroom of Princess Lilian.

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  Gray lashed out, trusting that Rynn could defend herself, and she could, but Gray didn’t let up. He didn’t need to. He was full of strength and power now. He lowered his shoulder and sent her flying into the sand. He then walked up and touched her mana itch with the tip of his short sword. “I’ll take that shekel.”

  Rynn leapt up. “Double or nothing?”

  “What would your orcish mage say about your mistake?” Gray asked, genuinely curious.

  “He would say I focused too much on your blade and not enough on your body. He would say…” She paused, blushing. She winced. “To be honest, he would’ve called your attack desperate and sloppy.”

  “How could you have countered it?” Gray asked.

  She sighed and wiped sweat from her forehead. “I thought about breaking your knee with a kick, but I didn’t want the shekel that bad. After crippling you, rooming with you would’ve been…what’s the word…awkward. Instead, I let you attack, thinking I could wear you out. Then you slammed into me. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have told you that. Father says the proud never need to explain themselves. They let their actions speak for them. You won. Your gambit worked.”

  “Thanks. Let’s try this again. If there’s a resurrectionist, there has to be a healer who can mend broken bones. Don’t hold back. We’ll be fighting for our lives in this Testing business, so let’s really test ourselves.”

  She nodded. “Yes, but I don’t want to hurt you. You wouldn’t really hurt me, would you?”

  She asked the question with such innocence.

  Had no one ever lied to her? He had tricked her, and she had tried to trick him back. They were even.

  “You have the bloodless blade. I have a dull blade, but even if my sword were razor sharp, I wouldn’t want to hurt. Like you said, it would make our rooming situation awkward.” He touched the sword to his chest and bowed but kept his eyes on her, just in case she tried to trick him again.

  She didn’t. She bowed, sword to chest, as they both said, “No anger. Only patience. First touch wins.”

  Again, their blades clashed in a thunderstorm of clangs and screeches, yellow sparks showering them both. Gray thought those sparks might hurt, but no, they felt like nothing when they landed on him.

  This time, Gray played defensively. Like he thought, it was a mistake. Her attack was measured, well planned out, and when he fell for a feint, she touched his leg with her sword.

  He smiled. “You get to keep your shekel. You won, so it’s nothing, which is such a shame. I wanted to take your last shekel. Did Father have a proverb for that?”

  She blew a strand of her golden hair out of her eyes. “Of course. Father took pride in his proverb. There’s nothing more precious in the whole wide world than a poor man’s last shekel.”

  Gray had to laugh. “Blind John said the same thing. I’m so sad he’ll probably never know that I’m down here, at the Belly of the World, with magic inside of me, sparring with an elf girl.”

  “He’s in Cradleport?” Rynn asked gently.

  “Either dead or in jail, probably. But maybe not. Blind John could see things coming. He might know if…but never mind. Go again?”

  “A touch wins a shekel.”

  As evening approached, the shekel had gone back and forth, until in the end, Rynn won the last bout.

  Yes, he’d lost in the end, but he’d done well against someone so skilled.

  Why hadn’t he done better against Settie?

  That was easy. She wasn’t about to let him win, not even to make him feel better about himself. She wanted him alive, not filled with a false confidence. The stakes couldn’t be higher.

  Mama Cinders pointed them to the bathhouse south of the barracks. She warned them it was coed, but that no one should be there. Most either used it in the morning or the evening, and since they were the only ones training in the heat of the day, they should have the place to themselves.

  She told them that towels were provided, though they should bring fresh clothes. They would have to do their own laundry, and that was connected to the bathhouse as well.

  After gathering their clothes, they went into the bathhouse. There were two sides, a warm pool and cold pool. Near the warm pool were showers, which were a miracle. Gray had spent of his life bathing out of a bucket.

  The elf girl wore what she called bathrobe, which was something he might end up purchasing. It covered her body, but slipped open, so he could see her mana itch and her cleavage. He forced himself not to stare. He also was not going to think about the fact she was naked underneath. No, that might make certain things happen, and he’d rather die during the Testing than die right then of an unwanted erection.

  In the end, there was no help for it. The showers were out in the open for all to see. It was clear that the First Field administration trusted that their recruits would not have sex with each other because of the danger of bonding with the wrong person. Gray didn’t know how marriages worked, but that was just one more question he had. Thank goodness Rynn rambled. It was such a wonderful thing after Captain Settie’s curt contempt.

  They each took a shower at the opposite ends of each other.

  Gray tried not to look, but he did chance one quick glance. He saw the elf girl had her muscled back turned to him. He took a quick moment to appreciate the curve of her hips, the dimples on her lower back, and the swell her backside.

  He turned away from her just in case she tried to peek at him. The sight had him as hard as Scartown rubble, something the gladiators said all the time. The big fighting men never seemed to tire of talking about their penises.

  Drying off with fresh towels, they put on fresh clothes, and walked back to the market. The sun was starting to set, and after their afternoon of exercises, they were hungry.

  Gray knew exactly where he wanted to go.

  He pulled her toward Gorgonzola’s counter, but first, she pointed. “Ironbites. We forgot to grab some from the canteen. I bet dinner was delicious. It’s so sad we’re not eating there with our new best friends, Froggy and her squad. I’m sure they would only have such things to say about the angel head and her nully boyfriend.” She put her hand to her mouth. “Oh, Gray. I’m sorry. I hope you don’t feel bad.”

  “I’m fine.” She hadn’t referred to him as a slave boy. The word “nully” meant nothing to him.

  The ironbite vendor didn’t just have the one raisin bran ironbites, they had a whole variety. Rynn bought what she called purpleberry power.

  They went to the pavilion. She split it into fourths. He took his bite, and the power nearly knocked him off the bench. It was a blueberry muffin, but not just any blueberry muffin. It was so sweet and fluffy. The blueberries hit like flavor fireballs. He felt a burst of pleasure, but then his body started to try and process the mana. He winced.

  “You don’t like it?” she asked in wonder.

  “Just so strong,” he gasped.

  “You know what to do, don’t you?”

  “No, tell me.”

  Her voice was musical and comforting. “You have to focus on your breath. Take each breath and imagine the mana in the ironbite surrounding your power. It’s like there are fleshy membranes around the energy inside you, and if you can make that membrane slick, your resonance will slide right in. I had a dragon teacher who called the ironbites celestial lubrication. Some people think they should be all be tasteless and awful, but they don’t have to be. They really don’t.”

  The blueberry muffin had betrayed him.

  He thought of Oma’s shack in the place of water and stars, the pine trees, and how the pollen glowed. It smelled so sweet, but it was more about how the place felt. It was home, a home that he would never have to leave if he didn’t want to—a place where he could always return to, no matter what. He imagined breathing in the pollen, and then that pollen clustered around his core, making it shine even brighter, but also making it ready for energy to flow in. A second later, he smelled Rynn. She’s used some kind of soap, and not the coarse powder that had been next to the showerhead in the bathhouse. Her sweet perfume comforted him as much as her voice, and yet, her scent also filled him with desire.

  His next thought made him think of Captain Settie, and her smell. He remembered their kiss—, how their cores had come so close. That was the bonding he would risk from sex. He would forever become a part of her, and she him, and he just couldn’t trust her like that. She was too hard of a woman, too mysterious, too powerful.

  No, Rynn was better. She was awkward and innocent, and yet, tough in some strange way he couldn’t put his finger on.

  Slowly, he processed the ironbite.

  He opened his eyes.

  “Ready for dinner?” Rynn asked, looking like she’d just had a cup of charbrew.

  “No.” He squinted at her. “How can you be fine? You ate the entire muffin.”

  “Whatever a muffin is.” She snorted. She put her hand over her mouth. “Sorry. I should stop snorting. You’re so funny and unexpected. Gray, I’ve spent my life eating ironbites. I drink mana wine all the time. I’ve worked on my core since I was a little girl, dreaming of being a Grandmaster Mage.”

  She paused and didn’t speak again, but waited patiently for him.

  He got up. “Very well, Grandmaster Mage. Let’s go eat.”