Torment - Lauren Kate [77]
“You’ll want a light grip,” Francesca said, directing Luce’s fingers around the hilt under the guard. “Grip too tightly and your direction of the blade becomes less nimble, your defensive moves more limited. Grip too lightly and the blade can be spun out of your hands.”
Her smooth, thin fingers guided Luce’s to hold the curved grip of the sword’s hilt just under the guard. With one hand on the sword and the other on Luce’s shoulder, Francesca galloped lightly sideways one step, blocking out the move.
“Advance.” She moved forward, thrusting the sword in Lilith’s direction.
The redheaded girl ran her tongue across her teeth and glared at Luce with something like middle child syndrome.
“Disengage.” Francesca moved Luce back as if she were a chess piece. She stepped away and circled to face Luce, whispering, “The rest is just gilding the lily.”
Luce swallowed. Gilding the what?
“En garde!” Lilith practically shouted. Her long legs were bent, and her right arm was holding the foil straight at Luce.
Luce retreated, two quick galloping steps; then, when she felt at a safe enough distance, lunged forward with her sword extended.
Lilith dipped deftly to the left of Luce’s sword, spun around, then came back from below with her own, clashing against Luce’s. The two blades slid against each other until they reached a midpoint, then held. Luce had to put all her strength into stopping Lilith’s foil with the pressure of her own. Her arms were shaking, but she was surprised to find she could hold Lilith back in this position. At last Lilith broke away and backed off. Luce watched her dip and spin a few times, and began to figure her out.
Lilith was a grunter, making tons of effort-filled noise. It was a bit of misdirection. She would make a huge noise and feint in one direction, then whip the point of her foil around in a high, tight arc to try to get past Luce’s defenses.
So Luce tried the same move. When she swung the tip of her sword back around to get her first point, just south of Lilith’s heart, the girl let out a deafening roar.
Luce winced and backed away. She didn’t think she’d even touched Lilith very hard. “Are you okay?” she called out, about to lift her mask.
“She’s not hurt,” Francesca answered for Lilith. A smile parted her lips. “She’s angry that you’re beating her.”
Luce didn’t have time to wonder what it meant that Francesca seemed suddenly to be enjoying herself, because Lilith was barreling toward her once again, sword poised. Luce raised her sword to meet Lilith’s, turning her wrist to clash three times before they disengaged.
Luce’s pulse was racing and she felt good. She sensed an energy coursing through her that she hadn’t felt in a long time. She was actually good at this, almost as good as Lilith, who looked like she’d been bred to skewer people with sharp things. Luce, who had never even picked up a sword, realized she actually had a chance to win. Just one more point.
She could hear the other students cheering, some even calling out her name. She could hear Miles, and she thought she could hear Shelby, which really egged her on. But the sound of their voices was woven through with something else. Something staticky and too loud. Lilith fought as fiercely as ever, but suddenly Luce was having a hard time concentrating. She backed up and blinked, looking into the sky. The sun was obscured by the overhanging trees—but that wasn’t all. A growing fleet of shadows was stretching forth from the branches, like ink stains extending right above Luce’s head.
No—not now, not in public with everyone watching, and not when it might cost her this match. Yet no one else even noticed them, which seemed impossible. They were making so much noise it was impossible for Luce to do anything but cover her ears and try to block them out. She raised her hands to her ears, which made her sword tip skyward, confusing Lilith.
“Don’t let her freak you out, Luce. She’s toxic!” Dawn chirped from the bench.
“Use the prise de fer!” Shelby called. “Lilith sucks at the prise de fer. Correction: