Not well.
Voski warned me this training would be even harder than the Furyknight training. But for different reasons. This training wasn’t a test, only a way to learn endurance and strengthen my body even further. It wassupposedto fail a lot.
I was used to enduring. I could persevere as well as any of my brothers. It wasn’t the physical pain that made my chest constrict and anxiety flutter behind my heart. It was the question whether I could ever succeed. Truly succeed.
Turning my attention back to the pair of men circling each other on the mat, I watched as one took a swing and the other blocked his blow, then landed one of his own. Either of those blows would have thrown me off my feet. But this brother took it with a grunt, turned into the pain, and whirled to hammer-fist his adversary.
The two danced warily apart again.
My heart sank.
I’d been training with men since the moment AkhaneChoseme. I was used to their size and strength now, and enjoyedfinding new ways to outwit them. But hand-to-hand combat? They were just stronger. They were no longer holding back for aFlameborne’sintroductory training. Even when I could get a blow in, or deflect theirs, they overpowered me the moment they got a firm grip.
My only true course to survive face-to-face altercations appeared to beflight.Or maybe, as Gil just suggested, using weapons. I had received training on the use of blades as a Flameborne, but I was hardly an expert.
Yet, did I have any choice? Once any one of these men—even the smallest of them—got hands on me, they could wrestle me to the ground in seconds. And even if I hurt him on the way down, that was petty retribution, not victory.
“Don’t worry, you’ll get there. It’ll just take time.” Gil appeared at my side without warning. Startled, I spluttered my water.
“How thehelldo you do that?!” I hissed, heart pounding in my ears, glad for the waterskin in my hands because I was sure they trembled.
He grinned and his warm eyes flashed with mischievous delight. “You’ll find out soon. It’s part of our stealth training. And once you’ve got the hang of it, you and I can practice by making a game out of trying to scare Voski. The fucker has senses like a cat. If you can make him jump, I’ll buy your rounds at the tavern for a month.”
“Done,” I said, instinctively, though trying to imagine a day when I could sneak up on Voski seemed like a fantasy realm. Still, it was less out of reach than being a Furyknight would have seemed a year ago. So, I wouldn’t give up. And if it meant free nights out at the tavern, I wouldn’t complain. Buying rounds was our squad’s currency, and the fastest way to get one of my brothers to engage with a challenge—or a joke. I wasn’t much ofa gambler, but it was fun to watch my brothers compete, tooth and nail, to be the one who didn’t have to pay.
“You alright?” Gil asked a moment later.
I sighed, but nodded. “Just tired. And a little sore.” I rolled my shoulder where I’d landed when he took me to the floor and winced. That would ache tomorrow. I hoped it wouldn’t interfere with climbing the mounting straps to get to Akhane’s back.
The much bigger wound was to my optimism. There were many, many things I believed I could do well—some, perhaps even better than my male counterparts. But fighting? I was afraid I might be the first sworn Shadowfang politely asked to leave the secret society.
How embarrassing.
“Don’t,” Gil said shortly.
I frowned and looked up at him. “Don’t what?”
“You’ve got that look on your face you used to have months ago, when you were convinced you’d never mount Akhane alone. And look where you are now. Stop telling yourself you can’t do it. You’ll have to do it differently. But you’ll find a way.”
“Sure. I know,” I huffed and waved him off, but my chest tightened with unease.
“Bren—”
“I hear you, Gil. I’m just tired. I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night, and I’ve been up since before dawn. I just need to eat dinner and sleep. I’m not giving up.”
“Not on the task, but I’m telling you, don’t give up onyourself.”
“I won’t.”
He eyed me from the side, clearly suspicious. But I didn’t have the energy to argue with him. Iwouldkeep trying. And I knew I’d do some things well. I just had to accept that hand-to-hand combat might not be one of them.
Soon, as the final pair of our brothers made it through their last spars—and I wasn’t the only one to end up on the mat, thank God—we farewelled each other and I threw my bag over my shoulder, grimacing at the ache there, then trotted out into the late evening shadows.
The sun was almost down, which meant long shadows between buildings when I hurried to the dining hall for a late meal, then used the darkness under the trees to casually make my way across the grounds, towards the back entrance to the Officer’s building.
It was still early enough for many Furyknights to be out, so I carried a wax-sealed note in one hand to imply I’d been assigned messenger duties, in case anyone intercepted me or grew suspicious.
But, I made it up those dark, back stairs and to his door without being seen, and sighed with relief as I stepped inside—tensing when a massive, dark shadow separated from the kitchen and leaped on me the moment I made it in the door.
