I lowered my head and redoubled my grip on the Olden Blade. Endrick's footsteps were behind me and coming closer. It felt like he was deliberately walking slowly, drawing out the torture. Maybe he was. Finally, I sensed his presence behind me, like a corporeal shadow, like he was death itself. He raised his hand to part my hair, seeking a solid grip on my neck, but as he did, I leapt to my feet, swinging around with the blade and leaving a deep cut in his side. "No!" Now Sir Henry was rushing down the steps, his sword already out. I swung back in the opposite direction, this time with a much better aim. I started to bring the blade down on Endrick's chest, but he grabbed my arm, using the grip glove to send a wave of pain through me. Had he not been injured, that pulse of magic probably would have stopped my heart. I fell to the ground, gasping with breath. Endrick stood over me, clutching his wound and shouting, "A Dallisor child is the Infidante? Where did you find that blade?" I couldn't speak, couldn't form words, but I stumbled to my feet, trying to put any distance between us. Sir Henry tried to dart forward, but Endrick raised a hand, motioning him back. "It doesn't matter where I found it," I said. "It's mine, and I will kill you with it." Excerpted from The Deceiver's Heart by Jennifer A. Nielsen All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.
