Wrath Games by B. T. Narro Read Free Book Online Page A

clever instead.
    Jaymes had both hands in a firm grip on his longsword. “Come on!” He waved it back and forth, making it even more difficult for me.
    I gathered a small cloud of pyforial energy and moved it close to his weapon. I was certain he couldn’t see it; he barely could see anything through the slit in his helmet. In one quick motion, I wrapped the py around the tip of his sword and pulled with all my might.
    The sword fell sideways, the awkward and sudden force twisting the commander’s wrists as far as they could go. The weapon slipped from his grasp. Still in control of the energy, I willed the sword toward me. It hurried over, its hilt dragging on the grass.
    I let it rest by my feet and tried not to let my face show how smug I felt.
    Jaymes flipped up the covering of his helmet. “Can you pull the sword straight out of my hands without twisting it like that?”
    “Probably not when you’re using all of your strength to keep hold of it.”
    “Take me off my feet.” He crouched in a fighter’s stance. “Do it now.”
    I surprised him with a forceful sideways tug at his back leg, then wrapped the energy around his ankle and pulled while he was already off balance. He stumbled and fell, his armor banging.
    He got up, threw off his vambraces, his helmet, and even his breastplate, his face completely indifferent throughout the long process. “Again.”
    I took out the same leg in the exact same way.
    He jumped up. “Again.”
    I playfully pushed against his chest with the energy. He stumbled backward and swatted at it as if it were a wasp. I moved it around behind him as his hands wildly searched for it, then shoved him, not hard but with enough force to knock most people over. He stumbled forward and spun around, trying to grab the energy that he barely could see. But I’d already moved it toward his ankle, wrapped it around, and pulled. He fell.
    When he got up again, he moved a bit farther from me. “Now try.”
    He was about five yards this time, and it was only slightly more difficult to knock him off his feet three more times.
    I started to have trouble at ten yards, requiring much more strength to wrestle him down.
    At fifteen yards, I could only get him down once in ten attempts. I was exhausted by then, but Jaymes wasn’t done with me.
    “It’s been determined that the mage who tried to kill the king got into his room through the balcony. It’s assumed he used py to lift himself onto it from this very courtyard after first lifting himself over the outer wall. Can you do the same, recruit?”
    I wanted to tell the commander that Eizle wasn’t trying to kill the king. Swenn was the target—a man who had murdered my mother, tried to have me arrested, murdered his own brother, and probably had done countless other despicable acts. Somewhere locked in my memories was the image of Swenn stabbing Eizle over and over, blood splattering onto his clothes, a sickening sound as it splashed onto a nearby table. I pushed back the memory to the shuttered recesses of my mind.
    But I couldn’t get my thoughts off Eizle and lost track of the question being asked of me. Floating—that was it.
    “I tried once and it didn’t work out.” My face and chest had slammed into the ground, the pain a deterrent from trying again.
    “Show me.”
    I tried to get away with explaining what had happened without recreating it, but Jaymes just shook his head and interrupted me.
    “I said show me.”
    “I don’t want to fall on my face…sir.”
    “How are you going to practice if you fear failure?”
    “I’m not afraid of failure, sir. I’m afraid of breaking my nose.”
    “So make the sheet of energy vertical, lean against it, then slowly lower it and yourself to a horizontal position.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    I did as he suggested, gathering the energy and then spreading it out to make a thin wall. I stretched out my arms and leaned against it, turning my face to protect my nose. Then I carefully tilted the