We were in the sparring room. The other candidates and their instructors were posed similarly. In the time that I had spent freezing out in the courtyard with Kilian, they had begun their training.
“How much fighting experience do you have?” Kilian asked, his question drawing me back to our mat, the pent-up tension bottled in my shoulders. My fingers flexed, aching to hit him now that I’d thawed out.
“Not much. I am pretty handy with a knife, though. Would you like me to demonstrate how well I can cut?” I said sweetly.
“As enticing as that sounds, I don’t think we have time for knife play.”
I flushed. That wasnotwhat I meant, and he knew it.
“You may be surprised to find that having less training might work to your advantage, though,” Kilian continued. “It means you won’t have to unlearn any bad habits. Start with your feet shoulder-width apart, your left foot slightly back. Further… Yes. And don’t keep it so straight, you want to be standing at a nice thirty-degree angle.”
Gods, he was bossy.
“Keep your hands near your face. Your fists and legs are your best weapons in close combat. You want to keep your face, ribs and torso protected at all times. And you want to aim for an opponent’s face, ribs and torso, because that’s where they’ll be aiming on you. I’m going to show you a basic block and dodge before we get into attacking.”
He stepped closer to me and large hands encircled my wrists. A tingle of warmth fizzled beneath his touch, zinging like the current from the oath. He maneuvered my fists in front of my face, fingers sliding down my arms to direct my elbows. He showed me several positions to block my ribs and sides, all complicated contortions my limbs were completely unused to.
“Stop looking at me like that and pay attention,” he snapped.
“Like what?”
He leveled me with a cool stare. “Like you want to hit me.”
“I do.”
“You’ll get a chance once you’ve proven you can block and dodge.” He took a step back, taking up the same stance he had just shown me.
And then he lunged. Quick as a whip, he slammed out with his palm, and I was never going to be ready for it. My movements were clumsy and unpracticed, and he landed a solid jab to my ribs. Not enough to break them, but hard enough to send the message that he clearly could if he wanted to. The force sent me skidding along the rubber mat, and I stumbled backward, clutching at my bruised side.
“Again,” he ordered.
I dragged my feet along the mat into position once more, shaping my arms so they blocked my ribs and face. He darted swiftly, muscled arm reaching out to swat the side of my head. My head swiveled from the impact, my ears ringing, and I fell to the ground, landing sprawled on the mat. My ribs ached at the collision. I glared up at him, anger quickly replacing the humiliation.
“You didn’t blockordodge.” He clicked his tongue impatiently.
“You’ve had years to gain experience. It’s my first day.”
“That won’t matter when you’re in the challenges. Blocking and dodging is basic survival.”
“Please, tell me more about how I can’t even master the basics.” Sarcasm dripped from my voice.
He reached out a hand to help me up. “Again.”
I tried and pitifully failed my next few attempts to block and dodge, receiving blows to the other side of my body – after which, Kilian smugly reminded me that an attacker would not repeat their moves. I heaved for air as I climbed back to my feet, ignoring the hand he offered.
I hadn’t had a chance to catch my breath, let alone survey the others in the room, but I took a moment now to quickly assess them. I was relieved to find that they didn’t seem to be much better off than I was. Anama’s skin was a mottled red from where her instructor had just dealt her a blow to the face, and Rayna’s cut above her brow was bleeding again as Echon prowled around her, like a jaguar hunting prey.
I allowed myself to be distracted by the others for five seconds. That was all it took for Kilian to sweep a leg beneath mine. I keeled forward, my hands slamming out just in time to prevent me from breaking my nose. The impact rocked my bones. I winced as I rolled onto my back, staring up at him.
“Don’t ever lose focus during a fight,” he intoned.
I huffed, shoved to my feet and stalked toward him. His brows rose as I made it all the way to his chest and jabbed a finger right in the center of his breastplate. “If you’re so great at blocking and dodging, then why don’t you take all this fancy armor off and show me how it’s done? Unless you’re afraid you’ll get hurt?”
“Hurt?” He scoffed. “By you?”
I didn’t know whether to be offended or angry. I settled for both. “I would have successfully stabbed you earlier if it weren’t for this.” I poked the armor again. “So, yeah. I’d say you have something to worry about.”
His fingers reached for the sides of his breastplate, deftly working at the buckles. The metal fell to the ground with a clatter, revealing a plain white shirt, the material loose against him. I watched in horror as his fingers caught the hem of his shirt, pulling the thin fabric over his head to reveal…
