The Builder (The Young Ancients) by P.S. Power Page B

have beaten him senseless if he tried something that took that long to land. Was it feint, meant to throw him off or set up the next move? He blocked it with both forearms and pushed hard, sending the girl, not much larger than he was in weight, even if she was taller by nearly a foot, stumbling back.
    She was better that he was on her feet, that was obvious, so he decided on a tackle, taking her all the way down to the ground with a soft “woof”. Her legs wrapped around him, pushing his hips downward, controlling him almost perfectly. For some reason she didn't struggle to get away, holding him close to her instead. Tor became highly aware that he was covered in sweat from his run, still sticky and damp.
    The girl didn't seem to notice that at all, her eyes were locked on his. Something shifting in her right hand as he tried to get his body far enough away from her to throw some punches. He wouldn't actually hit her, because it was just practice, but if he could indicate the punches well enough, Kolb would let it count. Just as he managed to almost power out of her grasp, he felt a slight prick on his neck and froze.
    Trice smiled up at him, her eyes were a lovely shade of cornflower blue he noticed before looking down to see a wickedly sharp looking dagger at his throat. Silver, shiny and deadly looking. He almost complained, since the instructions had been for unarmed combat. Then he realized that special school students probably didn't fight by rules at all, so that instruction had only applied to him.
    Damn.
    He really should have just run away. Tor couldn't move faster than she could stab him at this distance and they hadn't come up with any sign that he'd surrendered either. Yikes. That was bad. Well, maybe he'd get out of the shield thing in two weeks anyway? Hard to kill someone already dead.
    That got him thinking, distracting him from the knife at his throat for a few moments. What could he do to drive a knife like that back? A pressure field could work, but that took personal energy and too much time to create. If he had six hours he could move the knife back. Possibly. In twenty seconds? Not a chance.
    What if he used a low energy field though? Like... how a cutter worked, but in only one direction? It wouldn't drive the knife away exactly, but he could use her own force against her, so that the harder she pushed, the harder it would be to move forward. The blade itself would try to push her hand back.
    Making a living field like that took focus, which he could do, normally at least. Right now things were a little distracting, what with the knife and the very pretty girl in close contact with him. Plus, he had to make it happen all around his body at once, because the second the girl realized what was happening, if he could get it to work at all, she'd just change the location of the knife. Could he do it? Probably not, he realized. It was an almost impossible task.
    He could try at least.
    Tor forced his mind as deep as he could, and started building the field, just off of his skin. The idea creeping as close to his flesh as his mind could get it on such short notice. He couldn't let it go, even for an instant or the information would fade and he'd be stabbed. It took hours of focus to build a strong field that would linger, and even longer to make one that would last for days or weeks. He felt the blade closing, a sharp pressure that drew blood, even through the trance state he'd moved in to. Suddenly the pressure stopped and the girl's eyes went wide.
    “Holy!” She yelled, suddenly squirming to get away from him. She stabbed the blade into the side of his face three or four times, but it didn't connect, just stopping dead a fraction of an inch above him. He didn't let go of the field, keeping it as solid as he could as the girl tried to fight her way free of his grasp.
    The other girl watched, interested in what he was doing it seemed. After a second she nodded.
    “Shield. Might as well pull back