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He scoffed and said nothing else. He seemed to think that was enough of an answer. And it kind of was.
"Right," I said, still trying to get used to the feeling of the staff in my grasp.
I had barely even lifted it up when he scolded, "Not like that."
I groaned. He was probably just doing this so he would have an excuse to criticize me about something new, since it had been a few days since he had pointed out issues in my stance.
"Grip it with both hands," he said. "Left hand at the bottom, right hand at the top."
I hesitated, adjusting my grip until I thought I had it right. He didn't scold me any further, so I raised the wooden rod and swung out at him.
Castor’s hand shot up and he grabbed the center of the staff between my hands. One swift flick of his wrist, and I was tossed sideways like a damn windmill in the air. I landed hard on my abused tailbone and moaned in pain, the staff bouncing off me as if to add insult to injury.
"Every weapon can be turned on you, some more easily than others," he said, standing over me with his arms folded. "If you're going to use something blunt and cumbersome like a bo staff, grip is the most important thing. If you can't manage an iron grip, then you need to let go completely the moment the enemy has his hand on your weapon, or he's going to use it against you—like I just did."
"Oh," I said, feeling even more embarrassed than usual. If nothing else, the staff made an effective cane as I hauled myself back onto my feet.
Castor walked over, and when he came up behind me, putting his arms around my body to adjust my grip on the staff, my spine froze solid.
My heart was pounding a thousand miles an hour, and I could only hope that the vampire blood coursing through Castor’s veins didn't give him the ability to hear it.
"Put your hands here and here," he said, guiding them up and down accordingly. "There are different ways you can grip the staff, but with your build, it's best to focus on speed and stay in the center."
He was so close. I could feel him not quite pressed against my back, making enough contact that I could hardly think about what he was telling me.
"O-okay," I stammered. "What's that gonna do?"
"It'll allow you to move faster, for one thing," he said, keeping his hands over mine much longer than I had anticipated. He began to direct me through the motions, spinning the staff slowly so I could grasp the movements and repeat them on my own. "Like this. Got it?"
"Yeah," I croaked. It was hard to remember how to breathe, and I clearly wasn't doing a sufficient job, because not enough oxygen was getting to my brain.
He stepped back much too soon and said, "Good. Now, try again."
I swallowed hard, hoping muscle memory would make up for my inability to pay attention.
Well, that wasn't entirely true. In fact, I was hyper-fixated, just not on the right thing. I began to repeat the motions he had gone through with me, and Castor nodded.
"Good. Now, keep doing it until it becomes second nature, and then repeat it at twice the speed."
I did what he asked, even if it took longer for me to get the movements flawlessly than I would've liked.
"All right," he finally said. "That's enough. Try to hit me again."
I knew hesitating was only going to court his ire, so I did as he said, managing to carry through when he tried to grab the staff again.
"Not bad," he said, his tone rich with approval.
And just like that, I was hooked. Even though I had to override whatever strange instinct it was that made me want to hold back from fighting him, if that was what it took to make him happy…
He still kicked my ass, of course, and I had yet to land a blow on him he wasn't allowing for instructional purposes, but I did manage to dodge his hits a few times. When I felt his hand wrapped securely around the edge of the staff, I released it, darting back.
He smirked. "So you're not completely hopeless."
That wasn't exactly high praise, but it filled me with more pride than any effusive accolades from anyone else could have. "Really?"
"I guess we'll just have to see, won't we?" he asked, planting a hand on his hip.
I hesitated, not sure if I should ask the question on the tip of my tongue and risk ruining his relatively good mood. Now was a better time than any, though, so I decided to venture it.
