Infinity Blade 01- Awakening

right,” he eventually said, stopping. “You wait here.”
    Isa raised an eyebrow at him as he unloaded his armor. “I don’t recall,” she said, “being turned into a golem, instructed to obey your every command.”
    “Hey,” TEL said. “That’s what I am. Did you realize that you were saying—”
    “Shut up,” Isa said.
    “Oh.”
    “I’m aware that you don’t need to do as I ask,” Siris said, strapping on his left forearm guard. “But you’re in no condition to fight.”
    “I thought I was here to help.”
    “But not to interfere,” Siris said. “These battles are one on one. I won’t have you joining. My honor won’t allow it.” He met her eyes to let her know he was serious.
    He didn’t get an eye roll, as he’d been expecting. She did lean down from horseback and rest her hand on his shoulder. “If you do fall, I might be able to get you out before they finish you.”
    “You wouldn’t be fast enough,” he said. “The Aegis Forms all include finishing strikes. These are duels to the death. It’s not about mercy or ruthlessness; it’s just how things are done. If I fall, I die.”
    “And the blade . . .”
    “Fighting won’t get it for you,” Siris said. “If they recognize it for what it is, you’d just get yourself killed trying to grab it. If they don’t, it will be much easier for you to take by slipping in quietly.”
    “All right,” she said, though she didn’t seem pleased about it.
    “TEL,” Siris said. “I need to rest for a bit before attempting this. I need my cloak, also.”
    “Your . . . cloak?”
    “I left it at the camp, I’m afraid.”
    The golem fidgeted. He probably realized that Siris had left the cloak intentionally. It was time to see how far he could push the creature’s subservience.
    “You’ll wait until I return?” TEL asked.
    “Of course.”
    Two conflicting commands, Siris thought, but an implication that he can follow both. What will he do?
    The golem left, muttering to himself. “Oh, not good. This is not good. Not good at all . . .”
    Isa watched him go, then turned back and raised an eyebrow at Siris as he finished putting on his armor. “You think that will work?”
    “If it doesn’t, I haven’t really lost anything. But I don’t trust that thing, and I’d rather it be gone while I do this.”
    He unsheathed the Infinity Blade, then tossed the sheath aside before attaching the transportation disc to the hilt of the blade. This time, if he dropped it, he’d be able to get it back with speed.
    He pulled on his helm. He breathed the stuffy air inside the metal shell.
    “Siris?” Isa said.
    “Yeah?”
    “I’ll try to sneak in after you. I’ll be watching. Maybe if something goes wrong, I can . . .”
    “Don’t get yourself killed, Isa.”
    She smiled wanly. “I’ll promise that if you’ll do the same.”
    “It’s a deal, then,” he said. He did up the final straps at the side of his breastplate, then pulled on his gauntlets and nodded toward her. “Wish me luck?”
    She shook her head. “The Deathless have all the luck, whiskers. They always have. You don’t need luck. You need obstinance, belligerence, and a bit of selective stupidity.”
    “Selective stupidity. Yes . . . that sounds like me.” He marched out of the woods, armor clanking, toward a serene pathway of moss and overgrown stones. A daeril guard stood there, slender and lithe.
    Siris held his blade up in the posture of one requesting a formal duel. The monster fell into a familiar stance, causing Siris to release a breath of relief. This was familiar. This was where he excelled. He stepped up.
    The duel began.
    Siris yanked his sword free of the chest of the last of the guards, dropping the beast like the others before him.
    Siris breathed in and out inside his helm for a moment, then stepped from the pathway out into the open gardens. The sky was dark with gloom and melancholy. It had begun to drizzle again.
    For a time, he’d managed to forget all else—all but the duels. He cherished that focus. During such moments, he didn’t worry or wonder. He could fight and seek the solace of a spinning blade, a shield turning aside attacks.
    The open-sided building was just ahead. It was a thing of beauty, with ornate carvings and subtle colors, set in a garden with bridges spanning ponds and slow streams. He’d never before realized that a building could be a work of art.
    “I seek the champion of Saydhi,” Siris called. “I