Magic Rises

them. I have them in my order. They don’t think like us. They like to pretend they do, but their physiology is simply too different. They don’t experience complex emotions, they experience urges. It’s a cold, hard fact. Shapeshifters are ruled by instincts and needs: the urge to survive, to eat, and to produce offspring. Everything they do is dictated by animalistic thinking: they feel fear and it drives them into forming packs; they’re driven to procreate and so they become aggressive toward their competition in an effort to pass on their genes; they make children—”
    Maddie’s mother flashed before me. “They love their children! They defend them to the end.”
    “So do cheetahs and wolf spiders. But expecting compassion or complex emotions from them would be foolish. It’s a survival instinct, Kate. When a human mother loses a child, it’s a life-breaking tragedy. When a shapeshifter child turns loup, they grieve and weep for a month or so, and then they get to work on a replacement.”
    Hugh raised his hands in front of him about a foot apart, palms facing each other. “They have tunnel vision and they live in the moment. Right now Curran’s instincts are telling him you are a problem. Being with you is too complicated. You don’t fit neatly into the structure of his world, and others are questioning his choice. You are a source of friction and now he’s found a more suitable alternative.”
    I didn’t want to hear any more. I pushed from the wall, but he blocked my way.
    “Move.”
    “Ask yourself if you will be content living your life in his shadow. You know you were meant for greater things. Deep down he knows this, too. He knows he can’t hold you or he would’ve begged you to marry him. When a man wants to share his life with a woman, he offers her everything.”
    “Move.” If he didn’t, I would move him.
    “You need to blow off some steam. I have an exercise yard full of swords. Spar with me.”
    “No.”
    “If you’re too scared to try, just say you’re scared, and we’ll come back to it when you grow a backbone.”
    Voron. That was what Voron used to say to me. He would critique my fights, he would batter me in practice, and when I came up short, he’d reprimand me. “Do better” was bad. “Sloppy” was worse. But nothing compared to “Say you’re scared.” There was no worse sin than to not try because you couldn’t scrape together enough courage.
    The anger that had simmered boiled over. The ice cage cracked. I was so done. He wanted a fight, I would give him a fucking fight. “Fine. Lead the way.”

CHAPTER 15

    I followed Hugh down the stairs. We emerged into the hallway and I nearly walked into George. She saw Hugh. Her smart eyes narrowed. “Hey, Kate.”
    “Hey.”
    “Where you going?”
    “Out for a little exercise.”
    George turned. “I’ll come with you.”
    “Suit yourself.”
    We walked through the hallways to a door. Hugh pushed it open and we emerged into the inner yard. Six large racks of weapons greeted me, spaced in a crescent along the nearest wall. Swords, axes, spears. He must’ve taken time to prepare. It wouldn’t help him.
    I strolled along the racks. I recognized a few Japanese blades, but most were European, bastard swords, rapiers, sabers. An ancient falcata waited by the Greek kopis, a Roman gladius rested next to a hand-and-a-half, and a German messer next to its descendant, the saber. Falchions, claymores, tactical blades, every single one of them not only functional but beautiful, a kind of weapon that was a tool of war and a piece of art. Voron would’ve loved this. It had to be Hugh’s personal collection. It was beautiful, as long as one ignored the man in the cage slowly dying of thirst in the corner.
    I glanced up. Christopher was watching us through the bars with haunted eyes. I had meant to bring him water this morning.
    Hugh stalked on the other side, watching me.
    “Kate,” George said. “What are you planning to do?”
    “We’re planning to spar,” Hugh told her. “Just a friendly competition.”
    “This is a really bad idea,” George said.
    “What do I get if I win?” I asked.
    Hugh nodded at his priceless swords. “You can have anything here.”
    I surveyed the blades. I would be insane to turn one down. “Anything?”
    “Anything in this courtyard. But if I win—”
    “You won’t.”
    “If I win,” Hugh said, “you’ll tell me how you killed Erra. What magic you did, what moves you