Then she drew her katana from its scabbard and leaped across the room at him.
Jack’s feet refused to move for one terrible instant, as he saw his death gleaming in Jelan’s hands. Then he managed to backpedal, slamming the sliding door shut just before her thrust would have skewered him. The chiseled point of the katana burst through the door’s panel inches from his face, and hung there for a moment. Quick as an eyeblink, Jack reversed himself on the sliding door and yanked it open with all his might, pinning her sword in place against the opposite doorjamb. They stood together in the doorway for a moment, Jelan trying to withdraw her sword, Jack locking the sliding door in place with his foot.
“Elana,” he said, panting a little with the effort. “This is an unexpected pleasure. Or do you prefer Myrkyssa? I’m not really sure.”
“Elana will do,” she answered. Then she let go of her swordhilt and threw her left elbow into Jack’s ribs, shoving him out of the doorway. The instant Jack was out of the way, she freed her blade and came at him again, pursuing him into the study. Jack reeled back, gasping for breath from the blow to his side, but he had the presence of mind to kick a small ottoman across the gleaming, polished floorboards right into Jelan’s feet. It caught her in mid-stride, and with a muffled oath Jelan stumbled. That gave Jack enough time to cross the room and draw his rapier from the swordbelt hanging by the desk. He turned to confront her again, somewhat comforted by the weight of the steel in his hand. On the other hand, Jelan was very, very skilled with her blade, and probably more than a match for him.
“I don’t suppose you would be kind enough to explain why you are trying to kill me?” he asked, carefully sidling out of the corner to give himself room to maneuver.
“It has something to do with the fact that you interfered with designs of mine that were ten years in the making,” Jelan replied. “And in doing so, you left me entombed in stone for a hundred years. Everyone I care for has been dead for decades, Jack. It’s as if you murdered them all.”
“I had no way of knowing what would happen,” Jack protested. He started to say more, but Jelan resumed her attack. She darted across the room, her katana gleaming in lightning-swift slashes and cuts. Jack did his best to stand his ground, parrying and riposting with his rapier. Steel rang shrilly in the dusty old study. His point flew from one contact to the next, and he managed to barely deflect the Warlord’s attack. On the other hand, his counters absolutely failed to defeat her guard. They circled several more times, trading blows, and then Jelan broke off, yielding a step or two.
“I don’t understand,” she murmured. “You are much more skilled than I remember. You always had the speed and eye for swordsmanship, Jack, but where did you acquire your training?”
Jack wondered about that himself until the answer came to him. “To you, it’s been about two months since our meeting at the wild mythal,” he said. “But to me, it’s been four years. I studied some swordsmanship after our last, er, parting.”
“Not very seriously, or after four years you would have been even better.”
He gave a small shrug. “You should know me well enough to know that I do few things seriously, Elana. I am something of a dilettante.”
She paused and studied him again. “How is it that you, too, are alive after all this time?”
Jack grimaced. “In some unfathomable expression of cosmic irony, I was imprisoned in the very same spot where I’d left you, about four years after our little adventure in the Underdark. We were both released from the mythal stone at the same time. You were still petrified. I was not, so the drow put me to work in their fields.”
“Who imprisoned you?”
“I do not know. I have no memory of how I came to be locked in the mythal stone.”
“Fascinating,” she replied. Then she attacked again. This time she changed styles, using a different set of strikes and parries that sorely tried Jack. Her blade bit through his guard to kiss his shoulder-a grazing cut, shallow but bloody. Before he could recover she kicked his knee out from under him. In pure panic Jack reached out for his magic and wove a quick invisibility spell, vanishing from sight. Jelan’s eyes narrowed, and she stabbed at the center of the spot where he’d just been standing; Jack narrowly twisted aside. With uncanny quickness Jelan homed in on his gasp of exertion and the scuffle of his boot, pursuing him closely. Jack swore and abandoned the field, backing off a good ten paces to the other side of the foyer.
“I was wondering when you would resort to magic,” Jelan remarked, cocking her head to one side as she listened for any hint to his location. “Your recent training helps, Jack, but you are still not my equal.”
Jack could think of no good response. His shoulder stung fiercely, and his breath was already coming in pants. The swordswoman smiled menacingly as she caught the sound of his labored breathing and began edging toward him. He could flee the manor, of course, but he didn’t want to spend the rest of his life looking over his shoulder for Myrkyssa Jelan. On the other hand, he didn’t think he could best her with steel, and no magic of his could touch her. To buy himself a little more time to recover, and to perhaps find a way out of his conundrum, he decided to keep her talking. “How did you escape the drow?” he asked.
“My family’s ancient curse of unmagic finally reasserted itself; the magic that kept me petrified failed,” Jelan replied. She paced forward into the foyer, her katana held in a low guard. “The dark elves on the scene attempted to take me prisoner, but my mail was proof against their poisoned crossbow bolts, and their spells naturally did not affect me.”
“Naturally,” Jack agreed. He held his breath and slipped a few steps from where he’d spoken, hoping to deceive her.
“I took an important-looking fellow hostage, and made him create darkness around us until I could slip away into the Underdark tunnels surrounding their stronghold. It took me five or six days of careful exploration, but I eventually mastered the caverns and passages and found my way back to the surface along the routes the slavers use.” Jelan paused, listening for some sign of Jack. “That, by the way, is one more tally on the score I owe you. I did not appreciate waking up to find myself surrounded by drow, or days and days of hungry monsters and privations as I trekked my way out of the Underdark.”
“The involvement of dark elves a hundred years in the future was something I never could have foreseen during our previous … disagreements, Elana.” Jack moved stealthily again, now sidling into the manor’s large front parlor.
“But you were content to leave me frozen in that damned stone for four full years while you went about your life.”
“Elana, as far as I knew, you were dead,” Jack replied. “And even if I had known that you were alive, I would not have retrieved you from the stone. You were the Warlord, and I am a Ravenaar, loyal to my city-after my own fashion.” He watched as she continued to advance, readying himself to parry or flee if she guessed his location. “If it is any consolation to you, someone has treated me in much the same manner that you feel I treated you. I, too, have lost a hundred years and many friends. A certain sort of justice has already been rendered on my actions; there is no need for you to seek further redress.”
To his surprise, Jelan halted her advance. She stood in the doorway, peering toward a place uncomfortably close to where Jack actually stood with her eyes narrowed in thought. Jack decided to press his point. “If you could have picked any punishment short of running me through, wouldn’t you have inflicted on me exactly the fate you endured? For good or ill, you and I are bound by this common experience. Who else understands what you have lost?”