Sword Skill 2

Jace stepped in, slashing down with an overhand strike so clumsy it was laughable. Several of the observers snickered, and Kallist raised his practice sword in a contemptuous parry.

He felt nothing in the path of his blade but air, and it was finally his turn to hit the floor, gasping and clutching his aching stomach. He looked up, just in time to see the illusion of Jace’s arm and sword fade away, and the real one—which had slammed rather handily into Kallist’s unprotected midsection—shimmer into view.

“Here,” Jace said, clutching at his battered ribs with his left hand, “beginneth the first lesson.” He dropped the sword, reached out a helping hand.

***

Agents of Artifice, Chapter 11