“Are you listening to me at all?”
His words finally crack through my morning stupor.
“I am, but all I’m hearing is blah blah blah swords, blah blah blah daggers, fee fi fo fum.”
“You’re not getting within ten paces of a sword until I deem you ready.”
I scoff. “I’ve dealt with plenty of swords in my lifetime. Plenty of tools, too.”
“You have experience with swordplay?” He crosses his cut arms over his chest and eyes me doubtfully.
“I do,” I boast, stifling a yawn. “Just probably not the kind you’re referring to.”
He moves over to the rack of weapons and picks up two wooden longswords, handing one to me by the hilt.
Without warning or direction, he says, “Block me.”
He twirls the sword in one hand, creating an arc over my head before drawing a path downwards. I drop to the ground to avoid the wood splitting me in two. Jace halts its trajectory an inch from my head.
“Are you nuts?!” I screech.
“Been a while since you handled a sword?” he taunts, flipping the practice blade over in an impressive maneuver and driving it into the ground. It sticks straight up.
I scowl at him, suddenly very awake. “A little warning would have been nice.”
“I was moving at a quarter of my natural speed. That was pathetic.” He extends a hand down to me, and I grip it, allowing him to haul me to my feet.
“There’s no need to be rude,” I tell him, dusting myself off.
“I’m just trying to gauge where we should start,” he says with false naiveté.
“Well, I may not be an expert at swinging these things around, but I’ve taken a couple of self-defense classes. I work out, I’m in good shape, and I live a healthy lifestyle, for the most part.”
“I’m not interested in your lifestyle. You’re here because you need to learn how to fight. Do you believe your enemy will warn you before they strike on the battlefield?”
“Who says I’m going to be on a battlefield?”
He looks at me, dumbfounded and gestures around the empty arena. “What do you think you’re doing here?”
“Training to be a Dragon Rider,” I say simply, crossing my arms.
“It’s a little more intricate than that.” He eyes me. “You do need to learn how to ride. But first, you need to learn how to fight. You have to master hand-to-hand combat. And weaponry.”
“Why do I need all of that?”
“Because you can’t be a Dragon Rider without being a warrior. The two are synonymous.” He exhales loudly through his nose.
“I’ll phrase it this way. The only reason we would have need of a Blackblood on dragon-back would be to obliterate enemy forces. Which would mean we’re already at war. It isn’t enough to know how to defend yourself. You need to make yourself into a weapon—to think like one. So I need you to wake up and pay attention,” he says a touch more gently.
“I’m listening,” I assure him as he begins to circle me. My eyes follow his trail.
“Fae are ten times as fast and as strong as humans. Plus, many have the advantage of magic. Until we can figure out how to free yours, you are as good as mortal. And just as easily killed. You need to get strong. Learn to balance. Build muscle. Here,” he says, crouching to grip my inner thigh.
“Here,” he continues, rising to fist my bicep.
“And here.” His hand flattens against my stomach as he disappears behind me. I suppress a shudder as his breath coasts over my ear teasingly. He drops his hand, and I immediately crave his touch again.
“You won’t be able to stay seated if you’re weak in those areas. Especially your core. We’ll start by stretching you out and then going for a run. It will help with endurance and breath control.”
