Kylar was aware of Feir. The second-echelon Blade Master was seated cross-legged on the ground now, jaw slack. The man was muttering to himself, “Gabel’s Game to Many Waters to Three Mountain Castles—good, good—to Heron’s Hunt to—was that Praavel’s Defense? Goramond’s Dive to—what the hell? I’ve never—Yrmi’s Bout, good gods, some variation on Two Tigers? Harani Bulls to . . .”

The fight accelerated, but Kylar felt a calm. He was, he realized, smiling. Madness! Yet it was so, and Garuwashi’s thin lips were drawn up in a little smirk of their own. There was beauty here, something precious and rare. Every man wished he could fight. Few could, and only one in a hundred years fought this well. Kylar had never thought to see another master on a par with Durzo Blint, but Lantano Garuwashi might even be better than Durzo, a little faster, his reach a little longer.

Kylar dove behind a sapling a second before Garuwashi sheared it in two. As Garuwashi pushed aside the falling tree, Kylar thought. He only had one thing Lantano Garuwashi didn’t. Well, aside from invisibility.

~Oh, don’t use that! It wouldn’t be fair!~

What Lantano Garuwashi didn’t have was years of fighting against someone better than he was. Kylar was studying Garuwashi’s style in a way Garuwashi had never needed study anyone’s. It was straightforward. Garuwashi basically depended on his superior speed, strength, reach, technique, and flexibility to win. And—there!

Kylar went through half of Lord Umber’s Glut and then modified it, twisting the last parry so Ceur’caelestos missed his cheek by a breath. His own sword gashed Garuwashi’s shoulder—but Garuwashi’s counter was already coming. Kylar threw up an arm and instinctively brought the ka’kari up along the ridge.

White light blazed and threw thousands of sparks, as if Kylar’s arm were an enormous flint and Ceur’caelestos steel. Kylar’s arm burned.

The warriors staggered back and Kylar knew that if Garuwashi had put any more force into that counter, it would have destroyed the ka’kari.

~Please . . .  please don’t ever do that again.~

“Who taught you that?” Garuwashi demanded, his face bright red.

“I . . .” Kylar stopped, confused. His left arm was throbbing, bleeding where Ceur’caelestos had scraped it.

“He means the combination, Kylar,” Feir said, his eyes wide. “That move’s called Garuwashi’s Turn. No one else is fast enough to do it.”

Kylar fell back into a ready stance, not in fear now, but futility. He’d thrown his best at Garuwashi and barely scratched him. “No one taught me,” he said. “It just seemed right.”

The anger dropped from Lantano Garuwashi’s face in an instant. This was a man, Kylar saw, of sudden passions, unpredictable, intense, dangerous. Garuwashi drew a white handkerchief and reverently wiped Ceur’caelestos clean of Kylar’s blood. He sheathed the Blade of Heaven.