“Focus!”
“I am,” I growled back atGryfonwho'd paused only long enough in his rapid knife throwing to scream at me once more.
“You aren’t even trying to save yourself,” he critiqueddrily.
“I suppose running like hell from you doesn’t count?”
Zyasnorted from where she'd been watching and I shot her a look that might have killed if I could access my magic. Having claimed she wanted to seeGryfon’s knife-throwing in action to better her own skill, she now sat cross legged upon a mossy boulder, sharpening her daggers while bemusedly watching my so-called training.
“The magic,” Gryfon snapped again. “Focus, Adrian.”
I rolled my eyes but squared my shoulders.
“Again,” I said.
Gryfoncocked his arm back and hurled another knife in my direction. I didn’t run at first. I held up a hand in the knife’s direction as if I expected something to happen. It didn’t and I nearly lost the tip of my finger for my efforts. Hissing at the thin line of blood now trickling down my ring finger, I glared back at my trainer who merely shrugged.
“Oops,” he said.
I scoffed.
“I think drawing blood signifies we’re done for the day,” I hissed, stepping toward the jacket I'd stripped off when the morning had grown too hot for it.
“We’re done when I say we’re done,” he drawled, voice low and dangerous, his preferred method of communication.
I stood up, rolling my eyes.
“So say we’re done,” I replied. “I’m hot and tired and hungry and there’s the celebration tonight—”
“This is more important.”
“Not if it kills me,General.”
He scowled at the title and I delighted in how much he hated it. I'd just learned the truth of Gryfon's status in Archí upon our arrival and of his displeasure at being addressed as such soon after. Since then, it'd been my preferred nickname for the scowling warrior who still maintained that throwing daggers at me was the best way to force my magic to the surface, despite days of failure as evidence to the contrary.
“One more throw,” he said after a moment’s stare down.
“Fine,” I replied with a shrug, dropping my jacket to the dirt and striding back to my place several yards in front of him. “One more.”
He nodded and waited as I took up a stance which we had no idea whether or not even did anything. It was simply the stance we'd both decided had the best chance of succeeding in drawing something out of me.
One more,I thought.Just one more and then you can take a nice cold bath and get whatever stew and bread the cooks are making today.
I nodded.
Gryfoncocked his arm back, aimed, and grinned.
Before I could process what was happening, he whirled and sent the knife spinning off inZya’sdirection.
Several things happened at once. Zyashrieked, I screamed, and a cloud of black smoke shot from my outstretched hands, flew toward the spinning dagger and knocked it from the air only inches fromZya’schest. Wide eyed, she watched it fall to the ground before turning her gaze on me.
“Finally,”Gryfonannounced with a wide smirk. “Progress.”
“You unbelievable ass,” I sputtered, voice rising in fury as I stormed toward him. “You incredibly arrogant, foul, horrendous son of a bitch. You shit-eating pig person. I ought to gut you right here. I should dig out your intestines and hang you with them, you growling prick.”
“Now, we’re done for the day,” he announced, ignoring every insult and threat I hurled his way.
I just stared in open-mouthed shock as he gathered his things, turned, and strolled back through the copse of trees toward the camp we'd left behind hours ago.
