I bristle instantly. “I donotrequire your acceptance.”
“No,” she says mildly. “But you do require someone’s help since you’re clearly hopeless.”
My nostrils flare at yet another dig at me and my abilities.
“Your power has grown far too quickly for your skill level. Your body is adapting faster than your technique. Your domain is developing without structure. You are wasting potential every time you fight.”
I stare at her, ready to say something sharp, or maybe less idiotic. But I realize I’d better shut up.
Because she’s right.
Iamdoing things haphazardly, with no real aim. I have powers but no direction. And I can see how that affects me every fight.
“You will die if this continues,” she adds, her voice devoid of amusement.
Moe comes closer to me, sliding her hand in mine and squeezing in comfort.
Lis folds her arms once more and stares me right in the eye.
“You need instruction,” she says. “Realinstruction.” She pauses. “I will train you.”
For a moment, I simply stare at her. Surely I misheard, right?
“You,” I say slowly, “wish to train me.”
Lis arches a brow. “That is generally what ‘I am offering to train you’ means, yes, though I can’t say it is mywish.”
I look at Moe. She is already smiling.
Aha! They must have been discussing this behind my back, no? Is Moe worried about me? Does she think I may lose…and drag her down with me?
“Training with you sounds like a nightmare,” I reply bluntly.
Her lips curve with immediate satisfaction.“Correct.”
Moe laughs under her breath while I glare at both of them. They… They’ve banded togetheragainstme!
“I am serious,” I say. “You insult me every time you open your mouth.”
“And yet every insult has been nothing but the truth.”
“That is debatable,” I mutter.
“It is not.”
She steps closer as she studies me with the same ruthless scrutiny she had worn while dissecting my fight.
“You have excellent instincts,” she says, and I blink at the unexpected praise. “Exceptional raw potential. Ridiculous growth speed. A powerful domain with even stronger futureapplications.” Then her expression flattens. “And absolutely no idea what you are doing with any of it.”
Moe bites her lip, very obviously trying not to smile.
I point at her. “Do not encourage this.”
“I’m not doing anything,” she says innocently. “I’m merely your silent moral support.” She points to our joined hands.
“Youaresmiling,” I accuse.
“Because she’s right.”
