The Sword and The Mountain (Kathardra book 1)

“Daaaay seven,” Cinder said in a sing-song voice the moment he swept into the dining hall. “I hope you have all packed your bags, seeing as our swordmaiden here has still not used magic, just as I said she wouldn’t.”

Lessa ground her teeth, fork loaded with sausage halfway to her mouth.

“Don’t Lessa.”

She opened her mouth to continue eating. Trying desperately to ignore Cinder’s taunting and heed Storm’s warning.

“I told you, girl. You can’t do this.”

Slowly, carefully, Lessa put her fork down on the table. Her speared sausage forgotten.

“Lessa,” Storm warned.

“Really,” Cinder went on. “I’m not surprised. From the moment I saw you I knew you wouldn’t be strong enough for this.”

Rage flared up in Lessa, her breathing sped up. How dare he say that? She was strong. Stronger than him.

“Honestly, I’m surprised you can even swing a sword!”

“That’s it!” Lessa shouted as she slammed both hands on the table, she stood so fast that her chair clattered to the floor behind her.

Her eyes passed Zar’s and Worran’s on their way to Cinder. Each of them looked concerned. And maybe a little shocked.

“I’ll show you how well I can swing this sword.”

As Lessa’s black sword cleared its sheath, she glared at Cinder.

“What, scared to fight me, old man?”

Cinder’s voice was dry when he responded. “Child, no matter how prettily you dance with that, you cannot fight a mage unless you have magic.”

“Try me,” her words dripped venom.

“Maybe you should-” Zar started but Cinder cut him off.

“It’s quite alright, this is a lesson she needs to learn.”

Cinder stood, and as Lessa stalked closer he flicked his fingers toward her.

Orange orbs shot at Lessa from Cinder’s fingertips. She dodged the first, nimbly twisting around it, The second she sliced with her sword. It exploded in a shower of sparks, disintegrating before they reached the floor. She very nearly cut through the third but before her sword could make contact it blew up. It expanded so rapidly she was momentarily blinded. When her vision cleared she was looking at the world from inside an orange bubble.

“You see,” Cinder said “You cannot-”

Lessa thrust her sword through the bubble and spun it around her, the sphere broke apart, first into halves, but each piece crumbled to dust once severed.

Cinder frowned as Lessa advanced toward him.

Zar rose from the table and stood in front of Lessa.

“Get out of the way,” she growled at him.

“It’s alright, Zar, let her through,” Cinder said, unconcerned.

Hesitantly, Zar stepped aside.

Leaping lightly into the air Lessa closed the distance between herself and Cinder, her sword was going to come down directly at his unarmored head.

But her forward motion halted, she was yanked to a halt by her own arm, something had grabbed her wrist, and her toes barely scraped the floor. Lessa looked up to see nothing.

“As I was saying.” Cinder calmly walked toward Lessa.

Lessa’s leg swung around, aiming for Cinder’s chest. Her leg froze in the air.

“You cannot fight a mage, no matter your sword skill, unless you use magic.”

The mage held his hand out and twisted it.

Control was stripped from Lessa, her sword clattered to the ground as each of her hands was forced straight out to each side, her legs stretched to their extent, the toes of her boots just barely touching the floor.

Her hair wooshed in front of her face as her body shot backward until she knocked into a wall. She cried out as her skull cracked into stone, air was forced from her lungs and she gasped, pain ricocheting through her.

“That’s enough!” Zar barked at Cinder.

“It is not,” Cinder responded without looking at Zar. “There is nothing you can do against the weakest of mages. And you think you can challenge me? I am a great mage, girl.”

Tears threatened to leak from Lessa’s eyes at the humiliation of being pinned to a wall, with no hope of retaliation. She pulled with all her might against her invisible bonds, but she only succeeded in straining her muscles.

Rage and adrenaline flooded Lessa’s veins at the injustice of the situation. She would not let him do this to her.

In an act of desperation, Lessa found the wall in her mind. And she poured her fury and hatred into it, all the while glaring at this old man who so carelessly dispatched her. The wall melted away.

And Lessa Snapped.

Energy the likes of which she had never felt flooded Lessa’s body. She felt like she was burning painlessly, from the inside out.

Every muscle, every vein, every cell came alight with energy.

She pulled her arms from the wall and she dropped to the floor landing lightly on her feet. She was a creature of hate, fueled by the need to punish, to hurt, to kill.

A yell erupted from Lessa’s lips as she brought her arms forward and pushed the energy out of her hands and toward Cinder. A torrent of emerald-tinged flames rocketed toward the old man. Uncontrolled kickback from the energy blasted Lessa into the wall again.

Cinder used his hands to collect the fire into a ball, where it condensed until there was no fire remaining. Not missing his chance to counter, he threw his hands toward Lessa. A distortion in the air five feet across blasted toward Lessa as fast as an arrow.

Anger fueled her movements, she would not let this old man insult her day after day. He would be punished. Her hands clapped together in front of her, Lessa’s own energy collided with Cinder’s blast and exploded out through the room, dishes, plates, and food went flying.

“Lessa this is enough,” Zar stepped toward her and tried reasoning with her. But hatred could not be reasoned with. And neither could Lessa.

She waved her hand like one would swat aside a bug. Zar’s body went rigid and he slid across the room, out from between Lessa and her prey. Fingers splayed Lessa thrust her hand toward Cinder, the table, the chairs, and all plates, broken and otherwise flew at Cinder.

Everything she threw at him stopped feet from him and dropped neatly to the side.

Hand outstretched, Lessa summoned her sword. It rocketed toward her palm, landing where it belonged and she brandished it in front of her.

Again, Cinder sent orbs of light toward Lessa. She would not be trapped this time. She marched forward with her hand held up, the orbs halted and vanished before they reached her.

Cinder frowned at Lessa. She smiled.

Suddenly, Lessa lurched downward, she sank to her knees into the black and white marbled bricks underfoot.

Growling, and yanking with the energy pushing her toward vengeance Lessa pulled. The stones crumbled away, the pieces and dust released started swirling around Lessa, she was the center of a tornado. Slivers of table and broken porcelain were added as she advanced on Cinder.

“Lessa, you’re using magic. You can stop this,” Worran said. Trying to intervene.

She waved him away as she had Zar, sending him sliding across the floor in the opposite direction.

Using magic didn’t matter. What mattered was revenge.

Again, Cinder foolishly tried to stop her. His hands moved slowly this time. Ice collected along the floor toward Lessa, it caught her boots, growing as it climbed her legs and rapidly consumed her torso and arms. She was stuck.

Cinder looked satisfied, it only served to feed her fury.

A battle cry roared from Lessa’s throat as the ice around her steamed and melted away, drenching her, but adding water to the swirl of broken clutter flying around her.

The satisfied look fell from Cinder’s face, he bolted toward the door.

The hunt would make the revenge all that much sweeter. A dark and wicked grin spread across Lessa’s face and she bolted after Cinder.

The doors leading to the entrance hall slammed before Lessa, nearly taking off her nose.

She pushed against it, but it did not give.

Zar grabbed one of her arms and Worran the other.

“Get off of me!” she screamed. “He has to die!”

She thrust each of her hands out to the sides and Worran and Zar each were launched in opposite directions across the floor.

Both hands thrust against the door blocking her path and the door blasted into splinters, scattering across the entrance hall.

Cinder was on the stairs to her left. She could see it now on his face, smell it coming off of him; fear.

The grin spread across her face once more, she swung her sword and fire blasted from its length, spreading all the way up the stairs in a curtain.

Lessa stalked to the base of the stairs. In a futile effort, Cinder put a magical barrier between her and the stairs. It broke with one swing of her black blade.

She crept up the stairs toward him, soaking up the fear present on his face, he had nowhere else to go. The fire still roared behind him, completely walling off the stairs, its beautiful heat bathed Lessa’s face and body.

She raised her sword. Vengence would be hers.

Her swing would be true, right in his neck. Ending him, Fulfilling her fury.

When her sword fell it was intercepted by something she did not expect. The sound of her blade hitting Zar’s sang out clear and sharp. It seemed to pierce straight through her anger, back to who she was before it took over.

“That is enough,” he said, twisting his sword so that her own was rebuffed backward.

The flames behind Cinder extinguished at once. He sank to the steps and huffed out a deep breath.

Lessa’s wide eyes met Zar’s, the intensity with which he stared at her was scathing. She wilted away from him and braced herself against the wall.

“What-” her hand went to her head where a headache was blossoming.

“I-... I was going to kill you,” she said to Cinder.

“Ah, yes. That is what happens when you Snap with anger.” He sat on the stairs he was on, sweating and exhausted.

Zar said, “Lessa. You used magic.”

She stared at him, hearing, but not listening. He sheathed his sword and grabbed her shoulders.

“Lessa, don’t you understand? You did it! We had to make you Snap, but it worked! You used magic!”

He was grinning, so happy.

Cinder finally rose to his feet, “Yes. Next time we force her to Snap, please remind me to keep the black lankafore powder on me so that I can put her to sleep after.” He dusted his tunic off. “I’m going to have to make a new door…”

“Wait,” she finally started to process Zar’s words. “You made me Snap?”

The happiness slid from Zar’s face, she shrugged his hands away from her shoulders.

“Yes. Well, Snapping is the most reliable form of magical breakthrough once you’re over the age of twelve or so. You are old enough that I was concerned that even that might not work. I haven’t had to expend that much power in years… Cinder put his hands to his lower back and stretched painfully. “Sorry, about the things I said by the way.”

Lessa found her sword in her hand and sheathed it. “You mean, this entire time, you’ve been trying to make me Snap? You’ve been making me mad, on purpose?” Her voice went embarrassingly shrill.

“Yes, when the young prince came here and explained your predicament I knew this would be the best route. He said you had quite the temper but…” His eyes went wide.

Her gaze fell upon Zar. “You were part of this?”

“Lessa, we had to help you find your magic.”

She would not cry.

He had ignored her for days, let Cinder verbally abuse her, and he didn’t see a problem with that? As long as the ends justified the means.

The pain of betrayal was clear on her face when she next met his eyes.

“Lessa….” he started but she jerked away from him.

She jumped to the bottom of the stairs and brushed by Worran, who stood with legs wide and arms folded in the scattered splinters of the dining hall door.

“I knew this was a bad idea.” She didn’t know if he said it to her, or to Zar and Cinder. She also didn’t care.

“Lessa!” Zar called after her as she jumped the stairs to the grass. Storm was there. Ready to carry her away.

“No Zar, I get it. I’m a tool to you. It doesn’t matter how it makes me feel, so long as I can use magic when you need me to.” She turned to Storm but flipped back to Zar immediately. “Will flying on Storm even lock me out of the forest? Or was that just something you made up to torture me?”

Lessa didn’t bother waiting for an answer, she vaulted onto Storm and they launched into the sky.