Chapter Twenty Seven

Inner Demons

“Come on, Red, put some force behind it,” Ayduin said, holding her stance, “you’ll hardly snap me in half.”

Inerys rolled her shoulders, still attempting to gauge her own strength as well as her proclivity for combat. The closest she had ever come to a real fight had been that night in the tavern and even then, all she had done was smash a man’s hand with a tankard. It was hardly comparable to the hand-to-hand engagements Ayduin was keen on teaching her. The woman had knocked her flat on her rear more times than Inerys cared to count during their lesson, but the repeat abuse to her backside had been a powerful reminder to keep her stance.

“Are you sure?” She asked, more worried about her talons than her actual blows.

“Yes, I’m sure. Don’t hold back. We need to get a good sense of just how hard you can hit.”

“Can’t I just punch a tree?”

Ayduin snorted. “They might look unassuming, but some of those trees have trunks harder than iron. Besides, wood is a poor substitute for flesh. The likelihood of a tree deciding to take a swing at you is minimal, so stop stalling and hit me!”

Inerys growled.

Taking a moment to collect herself, she bridged her mental and physical cores by flexing the dynamic channels of each respective core toward one another. They branched out from the glowing spheres like long, spindly roots, questing toward one another before fusing. As they did, a shiver ran down her spine, her focus sharpening, thoughts clearing.

The direct contact between cores allowed her to make adjustments to her bearing without conscious thought, recalling Ayduin’s instruction and applying it to her posture. Shifting the position of her feet and shoulders, she adopted a bladed stance and raised her hands. Moderating her claws proved more difficult, but she managed. She took a deep breath, then struck. Her opponent blocked, taking the hit on her arm with a soft grunt, though she didn’t so much as flinch. The woman grinned.

“Good. Again.”

Inerys repeated the strike, familiarizing herself with the accompanying rush of power. It radiated through her back, core and arms, unlike what she had experienced during her mad dash against Rhydian. She had always been able to run and thus it had come naturally, but sparring was an entirely different beast. Much as her boosted mental core helped, she was still awkward and they had spent a few days desensitizing her to the realities of fighting. In the beginning, all she had been able to picture was that pureblood’s ruined hand, the sensation of it giving way beneath the tankard. The little bones peeking through the skin . . .

“Not bad,” Ayduin said, “but I still feel like you’re holding back.”

Frowning, Inerys glanced down at her hands. She felt strong, more than she ever had, but perhaps it was that pesky post-advancement bravado creeping in again.

“What do you mean?”

The woman walked a slow circle around the vampire, adjusting her knuckle wraps.

“I’ve seen bursts of strength from you before, Red. That night you and Ephaxus bonded, for instance. You were a second Ascension facing down a forth and you were able to swat aside an incoming strike. Anyone else at that stage of advancement would have broken their hand, at the very least. And that would be at the peek of their Ascension,” she said, “You’re at your third, now. If you can channel that same power, you should be able to knock me on my arse. Are you sure you’re reinforcing your hits?”

“I'm fairly certain I was,” Inerys said.

“Do you mind if I monitor your channels while you practice?” Rhydian asked from where he sat beside the low-burning fire, tending their stew with a meticulous eye.

She tensed, her stomach already beginning to churn at the notion. Every time someone inspected her Soul, it was as if they were reaching inside of her with cold, wet fingers, poking about where they didn’t belong. It was too invasive, too personal. A muscle feathered in her jaw, the others expectantly, but patiently awaiting her consent.

Sensing her unease, Ephaxus whistled his encouragement, one wing half raised from where he had been preening.

Her expression grew tight, but as much as she detested the intrusion, she nodded. Sacrificing her comfort like this should have been easy, especially for the sake of her recovery and yet, she struggled. Rhydian offered his sympathy in the form of a half smile and to his credit, his mental touch was light. Her skin prickled as his presence swept through her, washing across her channels and settling just below her skin.

He and Ayduin exchanged a subtle nod.

“Again,” she said.

Excess essence was drawn into the walls of her channels as she reinforced her body, condensing and providing a significant boost to her punch, as it had all the ones prior. Ayduin took the hit, unfazed.

Rhydian rubbed at his chin, “Your physical channels are reinforcing themselves as normal. You’re still stronger than most at your current stage, but she has a point. Every now and again, you push the bounds of what your body should be capable of.”

Ayduin raked her over with an appraising eye. “I have an idea. Keep monitoring her. I want to try something.”

He looked on with intrigue, giving a slight dip of his chin.

Inerys wasn’t quite sure she liked where this was going, but she trusted them enough not to balk.

“We’ll start with a warm up,” she said, guiding Inerys through an easy series of moves.

Once she worked through her initial hesitancy, she and Ayduin blocked and traded blows in a slow, smooth sequence. They had practiced the basic moves before, but the former huntress had yet to develop the proper muscle memory and blocking required conscious thought. More often than not, she still missed a step or two or failed to block, but she kept her stance. She was tired of being knocked down.

“Anything out of the ordinary?” Ayduin asked Rhydian.

He shook his head.

Seemingly satisfied, her opponent nodded to herself. Then, she pressed the attack. Inerys was immediately forced back on the defensive. She held her own during the first two strikes, catching them on the arms, rather than her vulnerable core, but Ayduin was too quick. She anticipated every move and once her stance was broken, everything fell apart. Inerys was once again on her back, her face to the stars.

She groaned. “Spirits, you hit hard-”

Ayduin’s foot came down in an arc. Inerys’ instincts cried a warning and she managed to roll out of the way before the woman’s heel made contact with her forehead. She cursed, finding her footing, only to find the woman practically on top of her. With her adrenaline spiked, the creature hibernating inside her stirred, waking and registering the threat. Only, Inerys hadn’t noticed.

The woman’s leg caught her in the middle, driving the breath from her lungs on impact. Pain blossomed throughout her chest and lower abdomen and she tasted bile on her tongue. Hard as the woman hit, Inerys was confident she was still leashing her true strength, though it still terrified her. The woman was two Ascensions higher than she was, after all.

Stumbling backward, she brought her hands up, desperate to regain her footing. When another first flew her way, she reinforced her upper arm to take the hit. The impact still rattled her, but she didn’t go sprawling this time. Though, the more hits she took, the more a foreign tension built in her channels. Another hit to the side, which she’d failed to block in time, finally sent her over the edge. Her fear and hesitation snapped like a thread pulled taught.

Inerys met the next blow, then retaliated with one of her own. Her fist connected with Ayduin’s side, which the woman hadn’t tried to block, and sent her stumbling back with a wheeze. Her temper flared, talons flexing. How dare she. She stalked forward, only to be knocked senseless by the overwhelming warmth of Ephaxus’ emotional push. She wavered on her feet, then dropped to her knees in the grass, her palms pressed into her eyes. Whatever creature had reared its ugly head within her faltered and retreated, leaving Inerys dazed.

“That answers that question,” Ayduin said with a pained rasp.

The woman was still on one knee, clutching her side through her thin blouse. Her face was pinched, brows scrunched tight. Inerys hadn’t failed to notice the gingerness in which she inhaled.

“Damn it, Red. You say I hit hard . . .”

Regaining her senses, Inerys felt the color leech from her face. “Spirits - Ayduin, I’m sorry!”

She gave her a bitter smile. “Don’t be. I was asking for it. That was the whole point of this, remember?”

She supposed it was.

“At least I didn’t break you in half?” She tried.

“No, but you certainly tried. Feels like you did, at any rate,” she said tightly, then glanced to Rhydian, “did you get what you needed?”

Inerys had yet to register his retreat.

“I did,” he said grimly.

“And?”

“What was that?” Inerys blurted, a hand to her middle as if she might feel whatever it was lurking within.

“I’m not entirely sure,” he admitted, having risen from his seat. Though his dagger remained belted at his waist, his hand hadn’t strayed for it.

Grimacing, Ayduin steadied herself, hand still clutching her tender side. Inerys hoped she hadn’t broken the woman’s rib. Her own hand ached regardless, particularly along her palm. It stuck too, she realized. She glanced down to find her skin smeared red. Four small puncture wounds lined the inside of her hand, still oozing. She really needed to learn how to rein in those claws.

She focused her attention on the wounds, directing her now relaxed essence into her hand. Within a few seconds, the bleeding stopped and the pin pricks began to knit themselves back together. Thankfully, the punctures were minimal enough to mend without much loss of essence. Her bruising, on the other hand, would eat up quite a bit. She already felt her body leeching away her strength in order to combat the damage done by Ayduin.

“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve noticed that passenger of yours,” Ayduin said, inspecting the dark bruising blooming across her ribcage.

Inerys envied the flat planes of her abdomen, as well as the speed at which that extensive bruising was already beginning to fade.

Rhydian was silent, his mouth set in a hard line before he said, “It felt like her. At least, to some capacity.”

Her stomach twisted. “Ezra?”

He nodded. “It could simply be a piece of her left behind by the Inheritance. It was strong, but it wasn’t sentient.”

Inerys curved her claws, as if she could tear it out of her.

Easy, little one, Ephaxus soothed.

She shook her head, frantic. “You don’t get it. I can’t have her inside me. I want her out. Now.”

Ayduin gently took her trembling wrists. “Careful now, Red, you’ll hurt yourself,” she said gently, but sternly. “We don’t know for certain what it is, yeah? Take a moment to relax. I’m sorry I pushed you.”

“Whatever it is, it seems to have gone back to sleep,” Rhydian said.

From what Inerys could tell, it had. She gave an involuntary twitch as she drew her attention away from her passenger. She couldn’t quite tell where it had come from, only that it was there, somewhere deep. It didn’t feel like it was tied to any particular core, but she could have sworn she felt it curled up in her chest. Resting. Dormant.

“We’ll have the Sage take a look at it once we’re back in Kresia,” Ayduin said, guiding her to her feet. “Now that you’ve Ascended, we’re due back for a proper examination, anyway.”

“With luck, Sorisana can give us some answers,” Rhydian agreed.

Inerys tried and failed to steady her breathing. She forced her eyes shut as she stood, willing her body to obey. She drew a deep, meditative breath, then another, until her lungs and her essence were her own again. After all the peculiarities that had arisen since her Inheritance, she was beginning to wish she had another vampire in which to question. Was any of this normal for them? Or was Inerys a special case on account of who turned her?

“I hope so,” she said, “it would be nice to finally have some answers. And if she doesn’t have them . . . maybe the Patriarch will.”

Rhydian’s expression grew pensive, his fingers straying toward the pocket of his trousers. They stopped short, then curled into a loose fist.

“If anyone does, he will,” he said, “although, I would like to find you some answers sooner rather than later, if I can. Even if it's a fool’s hope. “

“I’m beginning to understand why vampires make the Council nervous,” Ayduin said, but not unkindly. “You’re tough bastards, no doubt.”

Inerys rubbed her tender backside. “More or less.”