“Giving up already?” He taunted.
Winding back, I aimed a punch at his ear. He leaned out of reach, slamming my hand back down with the handle of his dagger.
Ow.
Pausing to search for an opening, I listened to his heartbeat and noticed his pulse was beating in sync with mine. Once might be coincidence, but twice was suspicious.
That’s odd.
I thought about Nikolach and miasma monsters, waiting for my heartbeat to rise. Predictably, it did. But his did too.
That gave me a pretty good idea of what our Skinscript did.
Time to test the theory. I wriggled beneath him.
Think boring thoughts. Books. Studying.
He shifted, the firmness forming near my stomach a dead giveaway as his heated gaze bored down on me. “Is your plan to seduce me into surrendering?” His tone became richer, lower. “Because there’s quite a large audience in here with us.”
His heartbeat raced against my wrist, much faster now. Listening, mine was racing too, still in time with his like an amplified echo. That cinched it.
“She’s had enough, let her up,” Sarina’s voice said from nearby.
“She’ll tell me when she’s had enough.”
“Get off me,” I gritted.
Zevrial rolled back onto his heels, standing again. I pushed myself up with the grace of a toppled tortoise. “You’re going to die out there,” he gestured to the Fitness room’s windows. “Sooner than later.”
“Gee, how sweet. Thanks.” Trading the rattan dagger to my other hand, I squeezed the grip.
“I say what I mean. And sometimes, that’s some mean shit. Doesn’t mean you don’t need to hear it.” He spun with liquid polish, throwing his dagger at a target against the wall without hesitating to aim. The blade sunk up to the hilt into the chest of the dummy target. “Imagine for a second that you don’t give up without trying.” I glared at him. I was trying. It just wasn’t enough. “Maybe then you’ll start improving.”
My knuckles whitened around the dagger. Before I could open my mouth, Sarina did. “She is trying! We’ve been training after hours every night for weeks.”
Quiet curtained the room as curious faces turned toward the commotion.
“What you’ve been doing is failing,” Zevrial said. “Time to try something new.”
I was too tired to try something new. There was barely enough energy in me to even participate in the regular daily training. He hadn’t been in the Fitness center after hours once over the last few weeks. He had no idea how hard we were training.
Frustration rushed to the surface, and I hurled my dagger at a training dummy. The dagger landed with a clatter, nowhere near the target.
I turned and stormed out before I did something I’d regret.
Chapter 13
On the Altar of Past Mistakes
Another Holy day, another step closer to the true holy experience: Sunday brunch. Or at least, it would have been if the weather hadn’t conspired against us. The worms and centipedes were out in droves.
“And so we must be thankful,” intoned Instructor Weavir, midway through his sermon. “For the bounty that we’ve been blessed to receive each day.”
The rain water had merged with the soup served for brunch today to form a lumpish gruel. I sipped at it. The bread served alongside it was dissolving into a mushy lump.
Most trainees had retreated back to their rooms after lunch given the weather, but I didn't mind the rain, and I enjoyed Instructor Weavir's sermons. It felt right to stay and listen.
Dewy raindrops had turned the cascading vines and glowing moss into a coruscant stage backdrop behind the helm podium. I dug at a rune groove in the rock beneath my feet with my boot toe.
