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“So am I,” he said, not letting go of my arm. “Children are eager to learn, and quick to imagine themselves capable of achieving anything they set their mind to. The young Alices I’ve trained only needed an afternoon or two of instruction. Adolescents and adults think they already know all there is to know. They can easily take years to train.”
Years? I swallowed hard as I digested what he’d just told me.
“Um...about that...I don’t think I have years to learn this.”
“It will take as long as it takes,” came Jack’s cryptic reply. Still holding my arm in one hand, he took my wrist in the other, holding me in a way that was gentle, but firm.
I wonder if he’d hold me like that if he was fu—
“Your blade is a part of your body.”
Oh holy hell...he was so strong...so fucking strong. And now he was making my body move while I turned to putty. I watched with a blank expression as he manipulated my arm into a graceful arc. “Treat your weapon as if it were your hand or your foot. Let it move as one.”
The sound of his voice, the tone of it, sent a shudder through my core. Biting back a gasp, I relaxed and let my body move at his every command.
He abruptly let go of me, taking that wild, woodsy, alpine scent along with him. I blinked and saw him standing beside me on the agility ladder.
“I’ll do it with you. Watch yourself in the mirror. Do what I do.”
Welp—so much for avoiding eye contact after all that touchy-feely stuff.
I studied our reflections in the mirror as he unsheathed the Vorpal Sword. Together, we went through the drill, doing the sequence in slow motion, moving simultaneously, doing it again and again. Seeing the two of us side by side would’ve been hilarious if I wasn’t concentrating so hard.
Here I was, dressed like a slutty gym rat, while he looked like the star of the latest gladiator movie.
By some miracle, I eventually began to find a rhythm, a harmony between footwork and swordplay.
“That’s it,” Jack encouraged, still going through every motion with me. “Now faster. Don’t sacrifice precision for speed.”
We continued, Jack coaching me through the intricacies of each movement. With every attack, our swords met with a resounding clang that echoed off the icy walls. His critiques were sharp but fair, pushing me to try harder. Every observation he made was followed by the one word I was starting to hate—
“Again.”
As I ran through my drills over and over again, I realized this was more than just checking off a box on my list of how to learn sword fighting. This footwork was being seared into the muscle memory of my brain and my body until I could do it as easily as fastening a button or spotting a fake Birkin bag.
“Good,” Jack finally said. “Now let’s put it into practice. En garde.”
A blur of shining white silver flashed in front of me as Jack lunged forward, knocking my sword out of my hands and onto the icy floor.
“Hey! I wasn’t ready!”
“I know.” Jack’s voice cut through my thoughts of indignation, sharp as the sword he was now holding at my chest. “Your enemies won’t wait for you to be ready.”
“Duly noted,” I shot back. “I thought you’d be above taking a cheap shot.”
Jack shook his head, then lowered his weapon.
“I’ll take any shot my enemy is foolish enough to allow.” I watched as he slipped the toe of his boot under my sword, hiked it up into the air, caught it, and handed it over to me. “You would be wise to do the same.”
He lunged at me again, his movements a blur of black and silver. I barely managed to block his strike. The impact of our swords rang in my ears, jarring my arms so hard that it knocked the sword from my hands.
I dove for it, but Jack’s boot had the blade pinned to the ground. The cold, sharp tip of his sword brushed against my throat.
“Dead,” he gloated from above. “Do it again.”
I wrenched free, retrieving my sword.
This time I lasted longer, reading Jack’s moves better. His strikes came fast as a viper, but there it was—a moment’s hesitation. I grinned and launched a flurry of blows, driving him back.
