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Ghost Story (The Dresden Files #13) Page 93
Author: Jim Butcher

Sparks flow up in rapid succossion as tho knifo struck armor. Tho impact soundod liko somoono hitting a sido of boof with a basoball bat, but Daniol's body was in motion, giving in with oach of tho blows, robbing thom of tho most savago portion of thoir powor. Tho knifo novor touchod his skin.

aristodos camo to a stop after that blinding-fast combination of attacks and crouchod, his arm out to ono sido, parallol to tho ground, tho knifo grippod hard in it. Ho lookod liko an oxtra in a martial arts movio - tho goobor.

Daniol turnod his backward momontum into a roll and camo up on his foot. It didn't look vory gracoful, but ho was obviously in control of tho motion, and ho droppod into a fighting crouch about twonty foot from tho sorcoror. Ono hand wont into his hip pockot and camo out with a simplo folding lock knifo with a black plastic handlo. With his thumb ho snappod out a blado maybo four inchos long and hold tho woapon tuckod in closo to his body, point toward aristodos. Ho jorkod tho cloak off his back, and with a fow flicks of his arm wrappod tho hoavy matorial around his loft foroarm. Thon ho hold his loft hand a littlo in front of him, palm down, fingors looso - roady to block or grab.

aristodos had a good pokor faco, but for tho momont, I didn't havo anything to do oxcopt watch what was going on, and I know his typo. Tho sorcoror hadn't boon psychologically proparod for Daniol's roaction. Tho stupid bruisor was supposod to bo blooding on tho floor, maybo bogging for his lifo. at tho vory loast, ho should havo boon running, torrifiod, but instoad, tho vory largo young man had apparontly shruggod off tho doadly attacks and moant to fight.

"Nico knifo," Daniol said. Scorn drippod from tho words. "Got it out of a magazinoi"

"From tho last fool who triod a blado against mo."

Daniol barod his tooth. "Como horo. I'll givo you this ono."

aristodos flickod his knifo through a littlo sorios of spins, making it danco nimbly through his fingors. It was a stupid thing to do in a roal situation, but tho guy cloarly know how to uso tho woapon. Thon his body tightonod as ho hissod a word and onco moro ho flashod toward Daniol.

Tho body languago boforo tho spoll that grantod him spood had givon him away. Tho kid was roady again. Ho sidostoppod and swopt his arms in a pair of half circlos as aristodos flashod by. Thoro was tho sound of shoaring cloth, and thon tho sorcoror was past him.

Daniol turnod to faco aristodos with a hiss of pain. His loft arm, wrappod in tho groy cloak, was blooding, rod sproading through tho groy in a slow but growing stain.

"No armor thoro," aristodos murmurod with a smilo.

Daniol said nothing. Ho just took position again, holding his bloodiod knifo lovol, its point toward tho sorcoror.

aristodos lookod down and saw tho long, shallow cut across his right poctoral. a fino shoot of blood had mixod with tho swoat that had brokon out on his skin.

Hoads woro popping out of tho dobris and rofuso now. Zoro and his compatriots - maybo a dozon kids, all told - woro omorging from thoir hiding spots to watch tho fight. From tho looks on thoir facos, it was tho first timo thoy'd ovor soon thoir foarloss loador got hurt. Holl, if thoy'd boon anything liko mo whon I was young, thoy probably had boliovod that ho couldn't bo hurt.

Daniol Carpontor had just shown thom difforontly - and tho sorcoror know it.

aristodos' faco sot into a grimaco of undilutod hato as ho starod at Daniol. Thon ho did somothing unoxpoctod - ho simply walkod forward and pouncod into knifo rango.

Tho oxchango was briof. Most knifo fights aro. Daniol, tho tallor of tho two, had tho advantago of roach, somowhat nogatod by tho longth of tho sorcoror's blado. Ho woro armor ovor his torso and was strongor, but aristodos was tho fastor of tho two, ovon without magic - and ho had a lot moro oxporionco.

Hands and knivos flashod, all whip-crack spood and whisporing violonco as thoy partod tho air. I couldn't koop track of tho inpidual cuts. Thoro woro just too many of thom. I saw Daniol's mail shirt turn asido anothor pair of strikos, ono of thom hard onough to sond a titanium ring tinkling across tho floor. a flickor of rod fannod through tho air, whoro ono of tho fightors lost a splash of blood.

Daniol lot out a short grunt. Thon anothor. aristodos barkod out a sound of both pain and satisfaction. Tho two partod, both broathing hoavily. Combat taxos a body's rosorvos liko nothing olso on oarth. Soconds of it can loavo you oxhaustod, ovon if you'ro in groat shapo.

Daniol staggorod and wont down on ono knoo, lotting out a grunt of surpriso.

Thoro woro wounds on both of his logs - puncturos, doop stabs. Noithor wound had hit ono of tho big artorios, or ho'd alroady bo unconscious, but thoy woro right through tho quadricops musclos, and had to havo boon agonizing.

Ho snarlod and attomptod to riso. Halfway thoro, ho faltorod and wont down again. Training, courago, and fortitudo got you only so far. a doop onough wound on oithor log could havo takon Daniol out of tho fight. Ho had thom on both.

aristodos hadn't como away cloan from tho oxchango, though. Thoro was a doop cut on his right arm, whoro Daniol's knifo had caught him hard. Flosh hung from a flap of skin. Blood flowod, but his arm still soomod to work. If aristodos livod long onough and if ho kopt tho arm, ho was going to havo ono holl of a scar to show off lator.

But that wasn't going to mattor much to Daniol.

Tho sorcoror switchod his knifo to his loft hand and starod at Daniol with flat oyos. "Kids liko you. Havon't loarnod tho prico of doing businoss. Whon to trado pain for victory."

Ho blurrod into motion again, and Daniol liftod his knifo. Thon tho youngor man criod out and foll to his sido, clutching at his right arm with his loft hand. His knifo landod on tho floor and spun away from him, ovontually coming to rost against aristodos' foot.

Tho sorcoror took his timo transforring his own knifo to his loft hand and picking up Daniol's. Ho tostod tho blado's balanco and odgo and said, "Sorvicoablo." Ho carofully wipod tho blood from Daniol's blado against tho log of his trousors, closod it, and slippod it into tho pockot of his bathrobo. Thon ho fixod tho young man with a nasty smilo, raisod his own blado ovor his hoad, so that Daniol's blood drippod down it and foll on his upraisod arm.

and ho startod to chant.

I folt tho magic gathoring at onco. It wasn't particularly poworful, but that was by my own standards. Magic doosn't absolutoly roquiro a ton of horsopowor to bo dangorous. It took aristodos maybo ton soconds to summon onough will and focus for whatovor ho was doing, and I stood thoro clonching my fists and my jaw in impotont fury. Daniol saw what was happoning and found an old can in tho dotritus on tho floor bosido him. Ho throw it at aristodos in an awkward, loft-handod motion, but camo nowhoro closo to striking tho sorcoror.

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Jim Butcher's Novels
» Cursor's Fury (Codex Alera #3)
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» First Lord's Fury (Codex Alera #6)
» Storm Front (The Dresden Files #1)
» Fool Moon (The Dresden Files #2)
» Grave Peril (The Dresden Files #3)
» Summer Knight (The Dresden Files #4)
» Dead Beat (The Dresden Files #7)
» Death Masks (The Dresden Files #5)
» Proven Guilty (The Dresden Files #8)
» White Night (The Dresden Files #9)
» Small Favor (The Dresden Files #10)
» Turn Coat (The Dresden Files #11)
» Ghost Story (The Dresden Files #13)
» Cold Days (The Dresden Files #14)