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The assassin demonstrated, transitioning from a flat-footed stance to her toes, both knees bending slightly. She swayed back and forth, her shoulders square to her knees. Corayne did the same, mimicking Sorasa’s body as best she could. This time, when Sorasa lunged, she managed to keep standing for three whole seconds, until the assassin dropped her again.
Corayne winced, her back beginning to ache. “Sorry,” she gritted out, feeling the embarrassed sting of failure.
“Better” was all Sorasa said, tugging her up again.
“Maybe I should just go back to sleep,” Corayne said, massaging her shoulder. Still, she kept on her toes, ready should Sorasa try her again. “Leave the fighting to the people who know how?”
Sorasa pretended not to hear her.
“I don’t think we have a sword light enough for her.” Sigil began to circle again. She wasn’t wearing her armor yet but seemed no less gigantic. “Unless you want to give her yours?”
“I’d rather give her a limb,” Sorasa scoffed before turning back to Corayne. “The long knife you bought in Adira will have to do.” She drew the blade from Corayne’s saddlebags. It winked in the ember light, a plain thing, with a sharp edge and a leather-wrapped hilt. Sorasa gave it a testing swing and thrust. “Good weight—you can use one hand or both. I’d say both if you want to really make it hurt.”
The blade continued to dance, sliding around her fingers in a blur of motion.
“Show-off,” Charlie rumbled, taking a pull from a waterskin.No, that’s wine,Corayne realized, watching something black drip from his lips.
“Here.” Sorasa snapped her back to attention, pressing the dagger into Corayne’s unsteady hands.
She set her jaw, locking her teeth as she locked her fingers around the hilt. While the Spindleblade was too heavy for her, it felt familiar, at least. This was odd, a stranger in her grasp.
Sorasa hardly gave her a moment to adjust, already fixing her grip. She rearranged Corayne’s hold on the dagger, wrapping her fingers one by one. “Tight but not too tight, see? Don’t lock your joints, in your hands or anywhere else.”
Again Corayne flushed. She hated getting things wrong, and had little experience with it.At least I used to, until the realm decided to crash down on my head.
“Good.” Sorasa nodded, eyeing her hand. Her own dagger, one of many, flashed before Corayne even knew it was drawn. She blanched, falling back a step. “Don’t worry,” Sorasa said, “You’re generations away from crossing blades with me. Just watch, mimic, memorize. You’re good at that, aren’t you?”
I am,Corayne thought, her flush giving over to a tentative smile.
The drills were not difficult, built on repetition and memorization.Draw, parry, stab, slice, twist, double-grip, backhand, switch.Corayne didn’t have the same strength behind her blows, and her form was nothing compared to an Amhara, fallen or otherwise.But it’s something where there was nothing before,she thought, wiping away a bead of sweat.
“Excellent—at least I know how to hold a dagger now,” she said when Sorasa slowed, dropping her weapon back into her belt.
The assassin smirked. “If only you knew how to hold your tongue.”
Until now, Sigil had been content to watch, but no longer. She rolled her shoulders, waving Sorasa out of the way. “Let’s see if you know how to throw a punch, Corblood,” she said, dropping her guard and bending so that her face was within reach. “Go ahead.”
Behind her, Charlie gestured a blow. “She’s not kidding.”
“Don’t tuck your thumb, unless you want to break your hand,” Sorasa added, taking a seat next to him, leaning back on the grassy ground.
Corayne blinked at them both, then at Sigil. The bounty hunter only stared back, expectant, the edge of her jaw like an anvil.
“Is this how the Temur show affection?” Corayne said weakly, squaring her shoulders.Shift your weight,she thought, adjusting her stance.
“We Temur are free with our love and free with our anger,” Sigil answered, matter of fact. She tipped her head, presenting her face for a blow.
When her knuckles connected, Corayne realized what a very, very bad idea this was. She howled in pain, feeling fire in her hand, and nearly fell to the ground, clutching her wrist. “By the Spindles,” she cursed, shaking out her fingers. Her knuckles were already red, close to swelling. “Adalen’s tears,” she yelped, and continued to swear in every language she knew.
Sigil chuckled, standing up straight.
“Well?” Sorasa asked, an eyebrow raised.
“Honestly, not as bad as I thought,” Sigil answered, sounding shocked.
It didn’t lessen Corayne’s pain, but it did make it easier to bear. “You’re not the first person I’ve ever punched,” she hissed through her teeth, shaking her hand again. “Just the most painful.”
Proud, Sigil slapped a hand against her jaw, then beat a fist on her broad chest. “The iron bones of the Countless will never be broken,” she boasted, a rally cry of the Temur.
