“I didn’t take you for a slow learner,” Valdis taunts. “Come—oof!”
Sharp pain cuts through my knuckles as the sound of my fist connecting with her face draws Seth’s attention.
“Fuck!” Valdis says under her breath. She holds a palm over the unmarked side of her face.
Seth is staring up at Valdis from where he has a map rolled out on the deck. If I didn’t know better, I would say that he looks worried. But that can’t be it. I’ve seen Valdis fight.
I shake out my hand, knuckles still throbbing as a couple of crew members playfully jeer at Valdis. “How’s that for slow learning?” I ask her.
“How’s your hand?” she teases. She shifts her jaw side to side, making sure it’s intact.
“How’s yourface?” I grin at the red spot my fist left on her cheek now, rivaling her birthmark.
“Lucky hit,” she says. She dodges to the side as my fist flies at her face again. “Alright! Aim for something other than my face.”
“Val,” Seth calmly calls from the side.
Valdis ignores him, but as I narrow my eyes in his direction, her foot comes at me. I manage to dodge, though I lose my balance and fall onto the deck. My hands take the brunt of my fall, pain spreading up to my wrists. Valdis’s raucous laughter travels on the sea breeze that chills my sweaty neck and face.
She extends her hand to help me up, but I swat her hand away and jump to my feet. She straightens, raising her fists again with a proud smile pulled across her lips. “Well, what are you waiting for?” she asks.
Using what she’s taught me, I execute a series of jabs and kicks, evading when I can, my heart rate rising in an exhilarating way. I try to predict her movements, managing to block blow after blow, earning encouraging words and corrections from her every now and then.Good one. Faster. Follow through.
Her fist catches my shoulder, and I wince, though it isn’t hard enough to truly hurt. “You should’ve seen that coming, Princess. Do better!”
“You’re going easy on me!” I complain.
She smirks. “And you’re still losing. Again, aim for something other than my face.”
I aim lower and hear Seth draw a breath while Valdis blocks my strike with her forearm. Before I can attempt another strike, the back of her hand whacks me across my face so hard that I stumble back, my cheek stinging.
Valdis straightens, white teeth flashing. “Payback,” she says.
“Seth distracted me,” I protest.
Valdis glances at him as he leans against the mast, an odd look on his face. “Could I interrupt the two of you for a briefconsultation?” he asks in that clipped Ardallan accent. “Val?” He eyes his wife, and she huffs out a breath.
Glancing at me, she says, “Good session. Let’s resume with swords next time.”
“Excellent,” I respond, slightly winded.
Valdis claps me on the shoulder, and I wince from the soreness. Odgar has been busy conferring with the crew. My eyes wander toward where he’s locked in conversation with the man currently steering the ship. As if he senses me, Odgar looks my way, and even from this distance, I can see the smile that lights up his face.
My heart gives an annoying little jolt, and as I look away, I find Briony approaching. I wipe sweat off my brow as she beams at me, though I groan inwardly. I’m also supposed to train with her today.
It’s easier to block Enidwen out when my mind is occupied—especially during fight training with Valdis. However, once that distraction ends, Enidwen’s voice blows through my mind like an incessant wind. It rattles against my barriers as she loudly reminds me of her presence. As if I could forget.
I’ve been reluctant to use my firewielding as it seems to only strengthen the connection between us—her shadowfire readily melds into my flames if tumultuous emotions are involved. Which … given my history, is very likely at any given moment. When I’m not keeping myself busy, my powers call out to me. They beg to be released, leaving me feeling jittery, unsettled, and even overheated at times.
“Ready?” Briony asks me.
“No,” I admit. “I’m exhausted.”
“Well, what better time to practice shielding your mind against the enchantress than when your body is exhausted. It’s a great opportunity, in fact.” Her hair is braided over her shouldertoday, and there’s some color in her cheeks. Ship life seems to have done her well.
We step away from all the chatter and make our way toward the back of the ship, where it’s a little quieter. Gripping the taffrail, I stare out across the water. “Do you think I could ever learn tocompletelyblock her out?” I ask Briony.
She leans her back against the rail, one hand wrapped around it to keep herself steady. “Perhaps,” she says. “It would be hard to do, however, given that her strength is tied to yours. The stronger you get—” She stops when I wince. “But keep in mind that the stronger you get atshielding, the easier it will be to block her out. Perhaps not permanently, but enough that it doesn’t completely disrupt you.”
