“Do you want to think it over?” Ninu asked. “I’m sure I could find something to entertain us in the meantime.”
The sentinels released their hold on Avan’s arms and retreated from the room. Avan wavered, but he remained standing. I started forward, but Ninu’s voice stopped me.
“R-22,” he said. Reev’s vacant eyes focused on Ninu. “Are you armed?”
“Yes,” Reev answered.
Ninu must have given him an unspoken order, because Reev withdrew the torch blade from his belt. The blade was a foot and a half in length and glowed as if the metal absorbed light instead of reflected it. He wielded the weapon in a flowing series of arcs. I wasn’t sure what Ninu had ordered him to do until Avan cried out and dropped to his knees.
A red line appeared along the length of Avan’s arm. Blood ran down his skin, outlining his knuckles in red. Then the bleeding stopped and retraced its path up his wrist and forearm, and the wound closed. Gasping, Avan bent over.
I lunged at Ninu. The torch blade cut into my path. I jerked back. I looked from Reev’s blade, which he had thrust between me and Ninu, to Ninu’s expressionless face.
I will kill you, I silently promised. For Avan and for Reev, I will kill you.
“Would you like to see another demonstration, or have you decided?” Ninu asked.
Reev lowered his sword. I looked down at my knife and the red streaks across the chipped blade. What was it Irra had said about the blood of mahjo? The price paid for stripping them of their magic: the sentinels and the hollows—their blood was poison to their Infinite ancestor.
What was the likelihood that Ninu’s puppet had been one of his descendants?
Worth a shot.
“Fight me,” I said. I made a point to tuck the knife into my belt.
Ninu’s brows rose.
“If you win, I’ll do whatever you ask. But if I win, then you let me, my brother, and Avan go free.”
“I’m not a fan of bargaining. And I’m fairly sure I didn’t leave room for it.”
“Why not? Afraid you’ll lose?”
He gave Kalla an amused look. I had almost forgotten she was there, still lounging on the sofa. To my surprise, she said, “What harm is there in indulging her? She can’t possibly win.”
“I think he’s afraid of a human girl,” I said, hoping Ninu’s grudge with Time would make him too proud to back down. “Daughter of Time, right? Bet you never beat my dad, either.”
Ninu began unbuttoning his tunic. A mix of triumph and anxiety shot through me. He shrugged off the sturdy black material, revealing a loose gray undershirt, and folded it neatly over the table. “I’m willing to play along. Feel free to use your powers if you think they’ll help you.”
The knife felt heavy against my side, but I didn’t grab for it. Not yet.
I planted my feet and waited as he approached. I would probably lose. But I would make sure to kick his ass in the meanwhile.
CHAPTER 37
NINU KNEW HOW to fight me. Whenever I slowed time, I felt a vibration through my body and my grip slipped too soon. While he couldn’t affect the threads, he could still affect me, and I didn’t know how he was doing it.
He also knew how to take advantage of my powers. Because he was aware of time slowing, even for the mere second I could hold it back, he could calculate how to counteract the rebound. As soon as the threads flung us forward, he attacked, striking at my openings. I was trapped in that sliver of increased time, and I had a split second to react. It wasn’t enough.
My tailbone struck the floor, followed by my shoulder blades. I hissed in air, back arching. Biting down on a groan, I rolled onto my side and glared up at him. He was faster than his sentinels.
“I’ve fought your father,” he said. “He was more of a challenge.”
I stood, the knife jostling against my hip. I had to be patient. Wait for an opportunity. Movement to my right drew my eye, and I glanced at Avan. He was on his feet again. Reev had him by his upper arm. I wasn’t sure if it was to restrain him or hold him up. Avan watched me, a line between his eyebrows. He mouthed a word: Mason.
End it quickly, Mason had said. My powers weren’t the advantage I thought they’d be, so how could I use my speed instead?
I charged Ninu, pulling at the threads but releasing them an instant later, this time without Ninu’s interference. I dived left, plucked at time again, and then cut right and aimed for his side.
Ninu caught my wrist and wrenched my arm up behind me. My shoulder screamed.
“Better,” he said, his voice low against my ear. “But still clumsy. Try again.” He laid his palm against the middle of my back and gave me a light shove, releasing my arm.
I stumbled for a moment but found my footing—and my knife. I spun, fist jabbing out. He stopped my punch again and then ducked. The knife in my other hand missed his throat. Drek.
I panted, forcing my thoughts to focus. Time slowed. I flipped the knife, blade side down. Again that vibration through my mind. The threads sprang free too soon. I swiped upward. His arm rose. The block jolted through my shoulder. His knuckles rammed into my gut.
All the air left my lungs. I hit the floor, curling around my stomach, gasping. Nothing else existed but the pain.
“Kai.” Avan’s voice. “Get up.”
My nails clawed against the smooth tiles as I pushed up onto my hands and knees. I rose unsteadily to my feet.
Speed is my ally. Breathe. In and out. Focus. Time is my power.
Ninu spread his arms wide in invitation.
I rushed him. I didn’t think about where to hit next; my body moved on instinct. Punch, duck, kick, block. Don’t stop. Don’t stop. Ninu’s head snapped to the left. My knuckles throbbed, but grim satisfaction fueled my next strike.
His hands snatched my wrists. His grip was unforgiving. His eyes narrowed. Then he let go, and I darted back to avoid the hit that barely missed my chin. His attacks came fast, pushing me across the room. I tripped. Pain stabbed my face. My vision went dark at the corners. I found myself back on the floor, looking up at the glass ceiling. I blinked rapidly, letting the rising heat in my face burn away the daze.
I let the humiliation feed my anger. Think, Kai.
“You are your father’s daughter,” Ninu said. He tugged at the loose sleeves of his shirt and smoothed down the wrinkles. “But he was a better strategist. It’ll come with experience.”
I shut out the questions that rushed forward. I didn’t know what to believe, but whether Ninu was telling the truth or not, I couldn’t let him or anything else distract me.
It took me longer to regain my footing this time. As he waited for me, I trailed my mind along the threads, deliberating. Time flowed in a current that didn’t ebb or swell but was constant. I could push against it, slow it down, slip free of its net. But what would happen if I tried to break it?
“Giving up already?”
I ignored the taunt. I imagined my hands skimming the current the way I once had at the river’s bend in the North District. Then I slid my left foot back and sprang forward. Ninu blocked before my fist could land, dodged before the knife could find skin. He deliberately didn’t retaliate, and whatever powers he possessed, he wasn’t using them except to interfere with mine. His restraint was insulting.
I imagined pressing my hands against the threads, letting them tangle around my fingers. Around me, time slowed. I imagined digging my fingers in and pulling. Wrenching. Ripping. The threads were so tightly knit that they barely gave. But it was enough.