“I...I guess?”
“It may take some time, shieldmate,” Trey told him.
“How does it work?” Henrik asked. “Are there components to this bond?”
“It’s different for each of us,” Daniella tried to explain. “With us, I hear the magic and sing a harmony that allows Trey to tap the power.”
Heather grinned. “I knit.”
Henrik managed to look even more gorgeous when he was confused. “This is a weaving of yarn with rods, I believe?”
“I see the magic like threads of power, and I can reach up and pull them into place for Rez.”
Gwen had seen it in action several times now, and it still sounded ridiculous.
Henrik turned his gaze to her as she tried to take a sip of her iced tea and she nearly wore it. She was uncomfortably aware of how close he was sitting, and how touchable his hair looked.
“How will you assist me?” he wanted to know.
Gwen shrugged and swallowed. “The only thing I’m good at is sword fighting. Robin thinks that’s going to be the key to...ah...me being a key.” She wasn’t sure how she could possibly sound more idiotic. Daniella and Heather were both smirking at her.
Henrik looked impressed, and that had more of an effect on Gwen than she wanted to admit. “A sword fighter,” he said eagerly. “I did not realize you were a warrior.”
“It’s...ah...a technique called martial arts,” she explained haltingly. “Tang Soo Do, to be specific. I’ve been training since I was a kid. I always liked the sword best.”
“I have always preferred a battle axe,” Henrik said.
“We can spar after lunch,” Trey suggested. “We do not have an axe for your use, but Heather has communication with a blacksmith in the land of Georgia who will provide one.”
“I am eager to cross blades with you again,” Henrik said, nodding.
Gwen took another long sip of her tea, thinking entirely too hard about other kinds of blades.
5
The dishes from the meal were put into a large cabinet low to the ground that Rez explained would wash them. “Water spurts from the sides, with soap, and they emerge quite sparkling.”
“Tough on grease!” Trey said, most mysteriously. “No streaks!”
“You watch too much television,” his key protested.
Henrik wasn’t sure what television was and he didn’t want to ask. Everything here was so different and unexpected, and he felt like he was playing the fool on a stage. Everyone knew more about everything than he did, and he feared that he looked slow-headed and unworthy in front of Gwen.
He wasn’t sure why he wanted to impress her so badly, but if Master Robin and his shieldmates vouched for her and vowed that she was connected to him, he had to trust it was the truth and that the confused things he was feeling would make sense eventually.
It was certainly no particular hardship to imagine the woman as his partner. She was lovely and graceful and the smile at her mouth was full of life. He wished he could kiss that mouth, see how it felt under his own, and find out if she fit as well into his arms as he guessed she would.
“Come and spar, if you are not too full and lazy now,” Rez challenged, to his disappointment.
“You will find your key quite skilled,” Trey warned him. “Her sword technique is excellent and her hand-to-hand fighting is beyond anything I’ve seen.”
“I’m a black belt,” Gwen said shyly.
Henrik guessed from her tone that this was a distinction of some honor, just as Gwen added, “It’s...ah...a fighting rank that requires a great deal of discipline and training.”
“I would be honored to spar with you,” Henrik said formally.
“Come, we’ll show you the garage where we practice,” Trey invited, and he took Daniella’s hand in his. Rez put his arm around Heather, leaving Henrick to stare at Gwen, who looked back at him with as much alarm as he was feeling. It didn’t feel appropriate to take her hand or touch her, no matter how much he wanted to.
They fell awkwardly into step and followed the others out to a large attached room that was clearly set up as a sparring space, Robin flying behind.
There was a massive wheeled machine with windows showing plush couches at the far end of the space. A conveyance, clearly, but it didn’t have an obvious way to hitch beasts to it, and it appeared to be pointing backwards. Beyond it was a hulking, cloth-covered shape that might have been another similar conveyance, and shelves filled with boxes.
Henrik tore his eyes away from the carriage, trying not to stare at the other strange items all around. There were curious lights and a workbench with bizarre tools, things mounted to the wall with cables and tubes that dove into the plaster walls. Above were even odder things: curved rails, and chains, and more of the smokeless lights.
There were weapons on one wall, and here at last, Henrik had a touch of familiarity. They weren’t quite like the swords and staffs he knew, but they were close enough for comfort. There were no axes, but Trey picked him a sword that fit his hand and had reassuring heft. Gwen took up her own weapon, a small, thin sword with a long grip and very little guard.
“Heather knows some weapon-makers in the land of Georgia that were able to get us real swords,” Rez explained, smiling at his key. “They are not common in this world. We have selected weapons for you and Tadra and they should be here in a week or so.”
“This type of sword is more common?” Henrik asked, gesturing to Gwen’s strange blade.
“Swords in general are very rare,” Gwen said. “We have more range weapons. And not a lot of personal combat, honestly.”
“Let us spar.” The sword that Trey gravely gave him had good balance, and if it wasn’t as comfortable as his preferred axe, Henrik had trained thoroughly with such a weapon.
They began with a bow, and Gwen raised her blade and waited, feet apart, knees loose. She stood like a warrior, even if she looked harmlessly soft.
Henrik gave a careful feint forward and she melted back easily and smacked back at his thrust, her blade ringing against his with more strength than he expected. The sword in her hand was held easily; she neither clutched it nor let it hang loose.
He caught himself smiling as he stepped forward again, more swiftly, and gave two quick swings in succession.
She blocked them both, her feet quick and her arm strong, and responded with a thrust that Henrik had to step back from.
Back and forth they tested each other. She had excellent command of her weapon, but he didn’t fall for her obvious traps, and she was appropriately cautious against an enemy of greater power and reach. Blade rang against blade. She always drew away first; she could never best him in a test of strength alone, but she was fast and moved in ways that Henrik didn’t expect, sending flashing steel to slip past his guard.
She was a beautiful fighter, he found himself thinking. She didn’t isolate her action in her arms or her feet, but was constantly in fluid motion with her entire body, moving from one thrust to a block to slip sideways out of range with a practiced dance. She used all of her weight to her advantage, always in perfect control. And she was grinning now, more relaxed than Henrik had yet seen her, which was both energizing and distracting.