It took a moment to sort through the irrational fear that coursed through me—the spark bristling at the threat being presented. No. It would be okay. I would be safe. This was Thaddeus. And how was this any different from how Eithan had taught me?
“Okay,” I said. “I’ve trained like this before. It’s how I learned weaponry and hand-to-hand.” I could do this. I’d walked away with many bruises over the years, more cuts than I could count, and a particularly nasty black eye one time when I’d let my defenses down and taken the full brunt of Eithan’s blow.
Thaddeus looked at me wearily. “Nyleeria, with this type of training,” he said gently, “there’s no way to ease into it. No way to break it down into smaller steps.”
I understood what he was saying. It wasn’t like hand-to-hand combat, where we could pull back on a punch. Once a spell was released, there would be no way for him to stop it. Just like Eithan hadn’t been able to pull his punch when he’d accidentally smoked me in the eye that day.
“No dowel, then,” I said, letting him know I understood.
He nodded, looking somber. “No dowel.”
This kind of training didn’t lend itself to transitioning from dowel to blade. It wouldn’t allow me to learn the lesson with minimal damage. No, these lessons would be swords first, and hope to hell I learn on the fly.
Thaddeus stayed in the center of the platformand had me stand below the slanted roof on the other side of the large pillars. I raised an eyebrow in silent question, but he turned his focus elsewhere.
A figure appeared about twenty paces in front of him, similar to the mannequin I’d slain in the Summer Court.
The air stagnated like the stifled stillness before a storm, and clear waves emanated from Thaddeus—reminding me of heat radiating off a rocky beach that had been baked in the hot sun all day.
In the blink of an eye, that clear power pulled through him and transformed into a ball of pure energy that floated between his palms. His hands made a quick pushing gesture, and the mannequin cracked as it was hit, shattering into a million pieces.
Like an aftershock, a wave of energy was released from Thaddeus, surging toward the remains of the mannequin. As the energy struck, the fragments were thrust into the air, propelled by the force of the blast. I braced for the destruction, but when the shrapnel collided with the pillars, a burst of energy flared, absorbing their essence.
Nothing broke the line between the hardwood and the mat. I understood then why Thaddeus wanted to train here. Somehow the training area held magic within its confines—perhaps the roof wasn’t as ineffectual as I’d originally thought.
Thaddeus didn’t merely know how to wield spells; he was powerful. Extremely powerful. He’d barely expended himself, and it didn’t take much to imagine what effect that spell would have had on flesh.
Knowing what I knew now, I should have feared him, cowered at what he’d revealed, and I half wondered if he’d shown me his power for that reason alone. But I couldn’t feel anything but awe and pride toward the man who had shown me great kindness. So much so that I was shocked to witness his destructive powers. Had anyone else experienced him in this order? The feared, powerful king of old being the last version of him for me to witness.
He finally faced me, and the raw fear evident in his eyes took me aback. Leaving the cover, I approached him. He stood there, strippedof any pride, silently pleading for my understanding, perhaps even expecting my disdain.
Yet, seeing his vulnerability, my defenses melted. Relief washed over him as he recognized acceptance in my gaze. I gently cradled his face, and he sank into my touch, pressing a delicate kiss upon my palm. A soft smile graced my lips in response.
He spoke, his voice laden with a roughness I hadn’t heard before. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For not trying to stop Amos.” His head drooped, weighed down by shame. That must have been why he’d been apprehensive to show me the true strength of his power; now, we both knew he could’ve intervened and survived the confrontation. His guilt, now palpable, enveloped the space between us. Stars above, it must have taken every ounce of control he’d honed over the past five centuries to restrain himself in that moment, knowing it would have exposed him, and most likely gotten us all killed.
“Thaddeus, we knew acting wasn’t an option. I don’t blame you for what happened—that’s on Amos, and only him.”
He pulled me closer. As I rested my cheek against his chest, I was greeted by the steady thud of his heart.
Tilting my head up, I gave him a wry smile. “I suppose it’s my turn to be the mannequin,” I said half-heartedly.
He grimaced.
I fixed my gaze at the end of the mat. “Let’s hope I fare better,” I said dryly.
Thaddeus kissed my forehead. “You can do this, Nyleeria. I know you can.”
I stepped out of his embrace and walked to where the mannequin had stood moments before.
Thaddeus’ glimmering power rallied around him, and I braced myself. I knew he’d hold back as much as he could, but that knowledge did little to assuage the part of me that felt as if I was readying to get another back eye.
His hands moved. Before I could react, the blow hit me viciously, throwing me back. The impact was sudden and hard, as if a giant had flicked me off the ground like a tiny pebble.
I didn’t register the sharp, breathtaking pain until my body skidded across the ground, my head whipping against it. Mercifully, its mossy cushioning absorbed a good portion of the impact.
