“Up the gamehow?”
His answer is to smirk. The target shudders and begins to drift sideways, waving in a slow, unpredictable pattern.
I stare at it. “That’s not fair.”
“Did you wait for Cairn to invite you to shoot him? Is that why it didn’t work out so well for you? You do know that aiming an arrow at someone or something means following through and not waiting for permission to shoot, right? Fair is for tournaments. Ask me how many archers I killed who had only performed and never faced an enemy?” He picks up a handful of pebbles from the ground. “Now then, try not to flinch. I’m going to be throwing things at you.”
“Atme?”
“Well, near you mostly.” His eyes are bright with amusement. “Don’t worry, I have excellent aim. You’ll be fine … probably.”
I roll my eyes, and turn back to the target making its slow way around the clearing, and draw, trying to target the moving target, while bracing myself for incoming projectiles. A pebble whistles past my ear and I jerk, the arrow going wide.
“What did I say about not flinching?”
“You threw a rock at me!”
“I threw a pebblenearyou. You flinched before it even got close, which means you’re anticipating what I’m doing instead of focusing on whatyou’redoing.” He tosses a pebble into the air and catches it. “Try again. This time don’t think about whatI might be doing, think about the target, and ideally, hitting it.”
“How am I supposed to ignore rocks flying at my head?”
“How are you supposed to avoid arrows flying at your heart when you’re on a battlefield? By killing the thing that’s attacking you, that’s how.” He settles back on his tree stump. “The world is full of distractions, Alleria. Loud noises, movements, people trying to kill you, sexy fae males you want to strip out of their clothes and ride?—”
“Stop!” I drop my bow and clamp my hands over my ears, face burning.
Therin laughs. The bow floats off the ground back to my hands.
“You have to learn to focus through all of it. So, if you could hit that target, it’d be great.”
I huff out a sigh, and lift the bow, focusing on the target and not the fae at my back with a handful of stones. The target dips. I adjust, release?—
A pebble clips my shoulder and I mutter a curse word I’d heard him say beneath my breath. He laughs, but the arrow flies true, and hits the outer ring of the target. It’s not the center, but I didn’t miss either.
“There you go!” Therin sounds genuinely pleased. “See? You can do it. You just have to stop being so precious about the conditions.”
This is how my days have been since Therin returned from the camp. Out in this clearing at the edge of the village, working through lessons in archery, how to balance, and some hand-to-hand fighting when he’s bored, that leave my body aching. He’s nothing like Cairn was during that one brutal session. Where Cairn put me on the ground over and over, Therin teaches with a kind of easy patience that makes me want to do better. He just treats me like someone worth training.
Most of my morning sessions are with Therin, but sometimes Sorel will come and join in, teaching me basic blade work. He’sless talkative than Therin, quieter and more intense.
I aim for the target again … and again … and again … until my shoulders burn and my fingers are numb. But I don’t stop until the arrow lands where I want it to, despite the moving targets and the pebbles Therin keeps throwing at me.
“There!” He grins. “You’re getting it.”
He takes the bow from me, and both it and the arrows disappear. “That’s enough for this morning. Go eat something, and give your arms a rest. Vessara wants you after midday.”
I nod, wiping my head with the back of my hand, and turn to where Nella has been sitting watching. She comes to all my morning sessions. It was one of the first things I asked Therin about when I discovered that her room is warded the same way mine used to be. She can leave it, but only to the common areas of the inn. She can’t leave the building itself unless someone is with her. When I asked why, Therin said she wasn’t a prisoner, but she isn’t trusted yet.
I’m not trusted either, I don’t think. Not really. But my leash now has far more slack than it did.
Nella stands up and falls into step beside me as we walk back into the village proper. At the palace, she’d have been talking by now, commenting on Therin’s behavior, asking if I was sore, making some comment that would make me laugh. But now she keeps her eyes forward and her hands clasped at her waist, and doesn’t say a word.
We’re almost to the inn when she breaks the silence. “You’re getting better with the bow.”
“Therin would say I’m adequate.”
She doesn’t smile, just nods and keeps walking.
“Nella.” I touch her arm, forcing her to stop. “Talk to me. Please.”
