Free Swords of the Six by Jennifer Miller, Scott Appleton, Becky Miller, Amber Hill

shoulder.
    They met halfway on the yellow sand covering the armory floor. Dantress struck first, feinting to the left but slashing on the right. Caritha’s blade clashed with hers, sending reluctant sparks into the air.
    Thunder rattled the glass dome above Dantress's head. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a storm passing over the palace. Jagged electric bolts split thick, dark clouds. But she focused her attention on her sister.
    Seemingly unperturbed by her silence and the clashing metal blades, Miverē appeared, flitted onto her shoulder and perched there, though she noted that he kept a firm grip on her neck collar. “It has been four and a half years since I showed you the secret chamber,” he said as she parried Caritha's thrust. “I am wishing I never showed you that place; then you would be playing with me.”
    She whirled, ducking as she did so, and slid behind Caritha. As she brought her sword toward her sister’s throat to end the swordplay Caritha spun around and they crossed blades.
    The red-haired fairy pulled his wand out and toyed with it, sending random colors from its tip in the form of smoke. “I liked you better, fairest of the dragon’s daughters, before you grew up. Don’t you ever—” he squealed with startled delight as Caritha’s blade sliced through the air above his head. “Don’t you ever want to play with me again?”
    “Miverē,” she said between parries, “I’m a little busy at the moment.”
    He sighed aloud and drooped his head.
    Focusing on the contest, Dantress felt the power of her dragon blood surge. She directed her will into driving her sister back. Her blade glowed momentarily and a wave of blue energy struck Caritha. But her sister closed her eyes, and Dantress’s assault evaporated against her blade. A bolt of energy shot from Caritha’s sword and smote Dantress in the chest. She fell to the ground. Miverē rolled into the sand. Caritha held the tip of her blade gently against Dantress's throat.
    Withdrawing the blade, Caritha held out her hand to assist her to her feet. “Give up!”
    “All right, you win.” Dantress accepted the other’s assistance and then brushed the sand off her dress. “I guess that makes us even.”
    “If you count last night’s challenges? Yes.” The corners of Caritha's mouth betrayed a faint smile. “Dinner will be ready shortly. Gwen told me to remind you of that.”
    “I’ll be along in a moment, I need to talk to Miverē.”
    Caritha sauntered through an exit door and left it open behind her.
    “Miverē?” Dantress scanned the sand floor, but found nothing. She looked at one of the massive exit doors in time to see it close behind the green-clad little creature. Poor thing, he was so easily slighted.
    She shouted after Caritha, "I'll be late for dinner. Tell Elsie, will you?"
    "Of course." The eldest sister returned and closed the door.
    Brushing sand from her skirt, Dantress set off after her little winged friend. It took a little while to locate him. He’d gone to the library and wedged himself between a book Astronomy: Impractical Applications and a large scroll yellowed with age. As she approached he stood and leaned against the book. His green eyes were bleary and red. Twin tears threatened to overflow his eyes.
    “Miverē, what’s wrong? Are you crying?” She reached up and held out her hand so that he could climb onto it. Both tears rolled down his face as he plopped into her palm. He folded his wings down his back, wiping a fresh tear from his eye.
    She dropped into the plush cushions of an easy chair next to the warm blaze in the fireplace. Fall had arrived and the weather had been cool of late.
    “There now”—she held the fairy to her bosom and stroked his bony back—“tell me. What has made you cry? I wasn’t trying to ignore you in the armory, but if my silence hurt your feelings then I'm sorry . . . I really am.”
    “Oh, it is not that, fairest of the dragon’s daughters! I do not cry because