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“Laurel can teach you the leg sweep today,” Bastian says flatly, removing his weapons. “She has a little less bite than Susan.”
Confusion still clouds my thoughts as the next words slip out. “I want to fight you.”
“No.” He tosses his weapon belt to the ground, its clatter emphasizing his word.
Ready to leave my old self behind, I shove him in the chest. “Afraid of me?”
He crosses his arms over his massive muscles. Clearly, fear isn’t the first word coming to his mind. “No.”
I shove him again, and he snatches my wrist, pulling me close. Our faces are inches apart. The intensity of the heat radiating between us as his blue eyes pierce mine brings me back to the meadow. In a matter of seconds, it is as if the entire world around us disappears, and he is all that exists.
“I will not fight you, Mari.” He releases me, storming to the center of the Grove to join Mav and leaving me feeling like a pile of mush.
I shake my head. It’s a bunch of nonsense conjured by a stupid teenage girl with a crush on a totally unworthy person.
My goal is to survive, and it starts with learning from Laurel. Unlike Susan, who wears tight leathers like me, the other woman has on a green tunic and brown leather pants. She’s sharpening a stick with a knife beside the fire. Her auburn hair and sun kissed freckles give her a natural beauty, missing from the people of Avren. A woman born of the wilderness, living like this her entire life.
“The Commander said I’m supposed to practice my leg sweep with you.” I sit down beside her to watch her whittle.
She smirks, a dimple forming on her left cheek. This close, I see a smattering of freckles beneath her eyes more clearly. “It’s ‘Bastian’ unless he’s in earshot.”
“Got it.”
“He’s already got a big enough head.” She tosses her stick to the side, lays her knife on the log, and stands. “But I think you already know that.”
I smile, grateful for a friend. “Mav seems like a good guy.” In the city, we never talked aloud with our friends about boys. To admit we had a crush on someone might negate them from our match pool if the Council got wind of it. Flynn and I were too reckless.
“He is. And Rafe’s decent too.” She watches the two of them sword fight along the perimeter. “It’s been a while since he bedded a woman, and he’s a bit desperate.”
I catch my breath, unsure of how to respond. She has confirmed the reality of the rumors I’d heard in Avren about the wilderness. “Well, desperate doesn’t look good on him.”
Laurel laughs, tossing an arm around my shoulder. “I think I like you.”
For the next half hour, Laurel works with me on the ins and outs of a good leg sweep, teaching me every trick she knows. If I can master this move, I can bring my opponent to the ground, where I will have the upper hand.
She stands before me, arms raised and ready to fight. I block her incoming punches, catching her off guard. While she’s vulnerable, I bend my left leg slightly to give myself more power in my sweep, knocking Laurel to the ground. Rubbing her butt, she adjusts to her hands and knees, a position where I could easily kick her in the face if this were an actual fight.
I hate that my brain works this way now.
“That was great!” She brushes her pants with her palm as she stands. “I’ll let Bastian know you’re ready for the next step.”
But she doesn’t have to. He approaches with a wide grin—one I don’t see too often. “Excellent work, Laurel.”
What about me?
Laurel loops her arm around my back and squeezes me to her. “She’s an exceptional student, Commander.”
A man enters the Grove from the far end near the cottages. His face is as white as the snow I’ve seen in picture books as he approaches Mav.
“That’s Mav and Lyden’s father,” Bastian says. “Maybe he has news.” He leaves us and crosses the field to join them.
We follow close behind, not wanting to miss out on anything.
“Hello, Bastian.” The man addresses the Commander with as much authority as the rest of his followers. “We think we’ve found Lyden, but we need to form a reconnaissance team to investigate the trail before it goes cold.” His eyes well with tears. “I just don’t know what I’ll do without either of my two boys.”
“Any clue as to who has him?” Rafe hops onto a pile of hay, resting his hands between his knees. “If it’s a Supe, I’ve got his number right here.” When he taps his chest, his weapons jangle inside his coat.
“Can’t know for sure if it is a Supe, Citizen, or the Miscretes.” He lifts his cap and runs a hand over his balding head. “Ganon said an innkeeper saw him about a week ago heading into the Ringlet Forest, accompanied by unsavory hooded creatures.”
