Her sword came in for the strike, but Lawrence ducked, the branch above him falling to the ground as he jumped back. He nearly lunged another of his last precious fireballs at the ground in front of the knight, but thought better of it when he realized she was on her guard against such an occurrence.

I can’t strike her directly, he thought, remembering how she had deflected his previous three fireballs, all aimed directly at her.

Fortunately he realized how she moved now. Quick lunges, jumps, and very fast sword strikes, but general prolonged motion was taxing. It obviously had to do with her armor.

“I’ll admit, you’re harder to kill than I thought you’d be,” she said.

Now holding his ground, his arms raised and the runes in his forearms burning brightly, Lawrence said, “That implies I am indeed, going to die here today.”

“You are.”

He sniffed at her surety. “Why?”

“What do you mean why? You’re my enemy. I kill my enemies, mage.”

Something was amiss here. This woman did not seem like a mercenary hired on by Hukama. The very notion that she could be a hireling had offended her just moments ago. “Do you call me your enemy because I use magic and no other reason?”

She looked at him, a confused expression touching her lips, though he wasn’t entirely certain that’s what he was even seeing, since her eyes were hard to make out behind her winged helmet.

He added, “You’re not with Hukama, are you?”

Now she was certainly confused. “Who are you?”

“No one of consequence,” he said.

“Refuse to give me your name, then?”

And she acts like a knight as well.

“Lawrence,” he said. “Lawrence Cazwick.”

Her battle-ready stance softened. “The same ‘Lawrence Cazwick’ who serves the royal Miho family of Omosaku?”

“Served,” he said. “We lost our final battle with Xai Qi just weeks ago. I escaped.”

“Of course you did, mercenary.” She practically spat the last word at him.

The failed mage wanted to respond to that implied accusation of cowardess and treachery, but he saw no point in it. The knight probably wouldn’t believe him anyway.

“What, no challenge to my words?”

“Well,” he said, feeling quite sassy again, “apparently I’m going to be dead in mere moments anyway, so I’ve decided not to waste my breath.”

She chuckled. “Then I’m glad we’re on the same edge, master Cazwick. Now prepare yourself!”

And like a knight, she had just warned him of her intentions to attack him.

“Wait,” he said, putting his palm forward. She reacted, and he realized he was pointing a deadly weapon at her, so he lowered his hands. “You’re not Hukama’s man,” he said. “Why are we fighting?”

“Aren’t you? Hukama’s man?”

“No, I’m not.”

“Are you lying?” Her question came as a sneer.