Arwin cocked an eyebrow at the bitter remark. She lowered the halberd, replacing it with her hand. Vi stared at the open palm, glancing back to Arwin. She wasn’t about to take the bait and be an easy target once again.
“Come on, up with you.”
Vi’s fingers clasped around Arwin’s and she hoisted her up so quickly that Vi’s shoulder ached. Vi rolled it backward but said nothing. The woman started for the door.
“Wait.” Vi stopped her with a call. Arwin turned, eyebrow arched. “Is that it? Are we done?”
“You actually want to go again?”
“As many times as you’re willing.” Vi picked up the scythe, adjusting her grip some. It had been too easy to rip from her hands before. Perhaps if she locked her thumbs around the main shaft, it’d provide better support.
“Why? You’re fooling yourself if you think that thing will stand up against any trained combatant. At best, you’ll have some range over a swordsman. But with the scythe curved as it is, you can’t effectively use the slicing edge.”
“So you’ve told me.”
“You’ll have to use it in more pulling motions, which will be hard to manage at distance.”
“Then I’d better practice.”
“Do you even have the stamina to swing it more than a few times?”
“Only one way to build my stamina.” Vi wasn’t backing down and she would make sure Arwin knew it.
“Why not just—”
“Because this may be our only hope,” Vi interrupted. “Because all the crystals, and crystal weapons, on the Dark Isle have been destroyed.This is the only one left. If it came from the descendant of the last Champion, it may just be the only thing I can use against Raspian. I have no choice. So will you help me learn it or not?”
Arwin stared at her, long and hard, not moving a muscle.
“Please.” Vi had no choice, no pride. Just holding the scythe filled her with a sense of urgency. The idea of preventing the end of the world was no longer an intangible thing. Vi now held proof of what she’d have to do in her hands, and she couldn’t be too arrogant to avoid admitting she was nowhere near ready.
“Very well then,” Arwin said finally. “But I’m going to train you as I would any of my sisters. I’m not going easy on you just because you’re a guest and princess.”
“None of my enemies will go easy on me.” The thin line of Vi’s mouth turned into a bitter smirk. “Bring on the gut punches.”
What followed was a series of beatings the likes of which Vi had never experienced before. She’d always thought Sehra’s warriors had stopped going easy on her when she’d come of age. But like most things in her childhood, that too turned out to be a lie.
Arwin didn’t miss an opportunity to trip her, smack her sides with the pole of her halberd, knock the scythe from her hands, or rap her knuckles for improper grip. Bruises covered her body and everything ached. She wasn’t sure exactly how much time had passed. An hour? Maybe two?
But Vi knew it wasn’t nearly long enough. She had just begun to feel comfortable with the weight of the scythe in her hands.
“That’s enough,” Arwin declared. “You’re spent for today.”
“For today?” Vi leaned heavily against the scythe for support, panting and wiping sweat from her brow. “Does that mean you’ll teach me tomorrow?”
“We’ll see. Don’t push your luck.”
“And here I had you pegged for not passing up the chance to knock me around some more.”
“It may be one of the most fun things I’ve done in some time.” Arwin cracked the beginnings of a smile. It wasn’t much. But it was more emotion—positiveemotion—than Vi had seen from her so far. The expression faded as quickly as it came, and Arwin looked between her and the door before starting toward a cabinet in the back of the room instead. “Come here.”
Vi obliged her. Toward the back of the room, near the archery targets, was a tall cabinet. All manner of vial and supplies housed within. Vi knew a clerical stash when she saw one. Arwin selected a small jar.
“Drink this now, and then we’re taking you to Sarphos for him to give you something stronger. You’re still skin and bones and will be far too achy tomorrow to do anything if you don’t take steps to ease the pain now.”
“So wearesparring again tomorrow?” She was excited at the prospect, but the deep ache in her body tempered the fact. Vi leaned the scythe against the wall to take the jar from Arwin and sniff the thick, amber colored liquid inside.
“I said we’ll see.” Arwin wiped sweat from her face using the bottom of her shirt. “Though, I still suspect there’s another, better way for you to use that thing… There must be. I can’t imagine a goddess would outfit her warrior with something not designed for fighting.”
