“No!” the Elders and I barked at once.
Hell, I didn’t even want some of those actions known. They weren’t as bad as my most recent stumbling’s. But, still, it wouldn’t help anyone gain respect for me. I had been free then of any restrictions…and now, I wasn’t.
Elder Jacobs cleared his throat, then smirked, dark eyes cunning. “This could be fun.”
We glared.
Queen Ruckler cleared her throat, gaining our attention. “On to a bit of business.” She was spreading jam on her roll, and I noticed King Zeller wince next to her before she calmly pushed the jam package to the other side of her plate. “Prodigies, we realize we’ve been remiss about physical training. We know you’re all highly skilled, but you need to keep active.” Blue eyes to Brann. “Not the active you’re thinking about.” More jam spreading. “So, we’ve set up a training routine that will occur before breakfast,” I barely withheld my groan of distaste, “and shouldn’t affect your duties during the rest of the day.”
A bitty howl interrupted her down the table.
I blinked, glancing about. “Isolde?” She had been sleeping on Sin’s pillow the last night, but had wandered off early this morning as she tended to do. “Where are you?”
Another soulful tiny howl sounded again toward the end of the table, but I couldn’t see her.
Elder Merrick sighed, then griped gruffly, his voice gravelly and irate, “She’s down here.” A huff from his wolf. “Biting my damn shoelace.” We watched him bend, all of us hearing him mutter in a gruff command, “You are seriously one screwed up, Vizoac. Go to your owner and leave me the hell alone.”
A bitty growl.
He growled back.
There was silence, and then we watched his curly head nod. “At least one of you does what you’re told.” He started to rise.
Another soulful howl lit our ears.
“Christ,” the One muttered next to him as I blinked like an idiot, and he leaned down around Elder Merrick’s irritated half raised form, his bulky frame disappearing under the table for a moment. “Come here, Isolde.”
Instantly, a bitty growl erupted, but both the One and Elder Merrick straightened, and Isolde’s tiny, furry form was sitting in the One’s cupped hands while she sat calmly, but bared her teeth a bit at him. The One brought her closer to his face, stating calmly, “You are not screwed up. A bitty fur ball, yes. But not screwed up as others may say.”
Elder Merrick grunted a quiet growl, keeping mute, watching under heavy lids as Isolde growled once more at the One before he placed her calmly on the table. Her head immediately turned to Elder Merrick. She bared her teeth at him, and then turned on her heel, tail flicking in agitation as she calmly moved past the plates…to me, licking my hand before pouncing her front paws on Sin’s chest, yapping up at him, her tail swishing merrily.
Queen Ruckler grunted, watching as Sin ruffled her behind her ears, Isolde instantly flopping onto her back for a wanted belly rub. “Maybe…a little…off.” Isolde’s head tilted and she growled at her, but Queen Ruckler waved her hand. “As I was saying, you four will be training.” Her lips curled around her bite, and I had a very bad sense of foreboding. “Against us and the Elders.”
Standing in a training room below the manor the next morning, one of the many they had down here, I was stuck wearing a damn black sports bra and these tiny black cotton shorts and tennis shoes with my short hair pulled up in a tiny ponytail. Just like Aria. Brann and London were only clad in loose, black cotton capris and tennis shoes. And while the three of them seemed to be used to the attire—they had told me it was identical to what they wore during their combat classes at King Hall—I was decidedly…not. Especially as the four of us were placed in front of the Rulers and Elders where they sat comfortably in their own work-out attire on wooden bleachers against a wall of the small sterile drab square room, the wall gray rock, the center of the floor covered in a neon blue mat, and that was it. Like a damn jail cell.
I crossed my arms over my chest, standing between London and Brann, feeling much tinier than I should, since I did know how to fight, but God, it was like every single Elder and Ruler were roaming their gazes over us in calculation, peering for any flaw they might find to use against us, and I swear, most of their gazes lingered on me the longest, some of them damn near staring blatantly. I knew I wasn’t…the average…size Mystical, but then, neither was Queen Ruckler. I tried to remember that, then belatedly, I remembered she also had a Shifter’s strength, making her deadly in a small package…whereas, I, without my weapons…was just a small package.
“Christ, we should have done this sooner,” King Collins muttered under his breath, running a hand over his face, again, glancing to me.
Elder Kincaid mumbled quietly, “I hope I’m not picked for her.” He shrugged when he glanced at King Collins glare. “I don’t want to hurt her.”
I kind of wanted him to get picked now. If he didn’t want to hurt me…I was game.
Queen Ruckler sighed heavily, and then stated loudly, “Alright, I’ll explain again. We’re drawing names out of a hat. Shifters and Vampires in one. Elementals and Mages in another. London and Caro, you’ll be facing a Shifter or a Vampire. Brann and Aria, you’ll be facing an Elemental or a Mage.” Blue eyes flicked to me, and I swear she almost appeared apprehensive, before she cleared her throat. “No rules here, anything goes, with the exception of killing blows.” She cleared her throat again, glancing at Queen Cooper. “You know, call Bindi. Tell her to get down here, just in case.”
I swayed a bit.
London gently nudged his bulging arm over, covertly steadying me.
Names were drawn. London got Elder Kincaid right off the bat—dammit. Brann got Elder Jacobs. Aria got Elder Fergus. And, I got…oh, God…King Zeller.
Hell, even he looked a bit nervous, asking Queen Cooper to call Bindi again, and telling her to hurry the fuck up. I went last in this first go round, as I was sure they were waiting on Bindi to arrive. It didn’t calm my nerves any either, as every single one of my Prodigy companions were taken down within five minutes each by the more trained Elders. And then, it was my turn…and Bindi still hadn’t fucking arrived, my Prodigy companions heaving with a smidge of drying blood on them from the sidelines.
So, I stood on the mat and moved as far away from my opponent as I could get, knowing he would come at me with speed I wouldn’t be able to see, and tried not to piss my pants, trying damn hard to pull that inner bitch from deep inside me, but hell it was hard, seeing spring green eyes stare at me across the mat, seeing the fact he wasn’t going to give any quarter, even if he knew he was going to hurt me.
I inhaled shakily, glancing to my King, smiling a bit since he seemed damn near frantic, his legs bouncing where he sat. And I let myself flare brightly, glowing brilliantly inside the room, and as Queen Ruckler started counting down from ten, I tried to remember frantically how those frantic sparking stars had sizzled off my skin back in the past. I wiggled my arms, staring at them, but time was too short when nothing happened, so I went with another trick they hadn’t seen, something I had learned from Sin’s maneuvering, and started flicking tiny stars in a hurried frenzy from my palms all about my frame in small domes, not time enough to make it large, blowing out hard, making them spin in circles about me so I could pluck them as I willed.
The countdown was done.
