Page 153 of A Legacy of the Light

“You’re not far off, lass.” Reyne replies.

I snap my head in her direction. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud,” I tell her.

Reyne winks at me and we continue our exercises.

“Want to spar?” she asks.

“With the weapons?” I answer with a wide grin.

She chuckles in response. “Sure, let’s give it a go.”

Reyne readies herself in the middle of the ring. “Come get me, Elsie.” Her eyes glint with the dare.

And I unleash on her.

Everything she has taught me for the last couple of months clicks like never before. I don’t just use the wooden sword, I use my fists, and my feet. I let my instincts guide me. Some untapped part of my Seelie mind springs to the fore and urges me on what to do next

“Now we’re talking,” Reyne growls as she meets me head on.

Strength, power, and speed flow through me unchecked. Reyne and I clang swords, block punches, and defend against kicks. For the first time, she isn’t gaining the advantage.

We break apart and circle each other. I watch every move her body makes. The way her weight shifts between her feet and the way she looks at me, trying to anticipate what I’m going to do next.

Remembering her spar with Tavish before the holidays, I let a small smile tug at the corner of my lips. I feign moving to the right, Reyne following me just as I had hoped. As she goes to make her attack, I note that she shifts onto her toes just before she moves.

That’s her tell.

I dodge, grabbing her sword arm and pulling it up behind her back so she has no choice but to drop it. I swipe my left leg underneath Reyne so she falls to the ground chest-first in a huff.

She rolls over to find me pointing my sword at her throat. And hers, too.

Reyne’s eyes flick from the end of the practice blades up to mine. Pride glares back at me, strong and true.

I lower the weapons and help her to her feet. The smile on her face never falters. She looks at me hard for another second and in an incredibly un-warrior-like manner, we throw our arms around each other and stamp our feet at my victory.

“Impressive.” A deep chuckle echoes from the edge of our ring.

We break apart and see that Tavish has stopped his training to watch us. His stance is relaxed, but the heat in his eyes as he stares at me is anything but. A tingle spreads down my spine.

“You’ve turned into quite the little warrior,” he adds, not with a tone of condescension, but of quiet pride and a little heat.

He turns and walks away from us.

“Your next spar is mine, Elsie,” he calls as he goes back to his training.

◆◆◆

Another month passes. The winter frost starts to thaw and the days feel warmer as we move into March. I win a few more spars with Reyne and she really has stopped holding back against me. The first time she flipped me I needed a few minutes after the force of my landing.

We train with a few other weapons too: daggers, long swords, a mace. That didn’t feel natural to use but since I’m much better at defensive moves, avoiding being clobbered by it was easy enough.

I refuse Tavish every time he challenges me in the ring. The prospect of sparring with him terrifies me. I’m still new to this, and Tavish’s sheer speed and strength are daunting.

My luck runs out one rainy afternoon in early March. I arrive in the yard to find it empty apart from Reyne and Tavish. Both are dressed in black training gear and smirking at me, evidence of some scheme I know I’m not going to enjoy.

I approach them cautiously.

“What’s going on?” I ask, pushing back the strands of hair that have stuck to my wet forehead.