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“I thought Ozar was our coach,” I whispered back.

“I think Ozar is to be the team leader. The coach is a human and he has experience training hockey teams. I believe his last team won something called the ‘Pee-wee’ league award.” Pug shut his mouth as Ozar glared at him.

There was a very long moment of silence, then Willa stepped forward and began to speak, her voice echoing around the room.

“My name is Willa, and as Mr. Johnson may have told you, I’m the new team trainer. We’re going to do some cardio to warm up, so let’s hit those treadmills.”

Most of us looked around in confusion, unsure what a ‘treadmill’ was. Pfton must have known because he ran over to one of the machines and punched the panel with the buttons. It was a good hit. His fist made a significant dent in the surface.

Willa threw her hands up and twisted her mouth into an expression of annoyance. “No! Don’t hit them. We’re going to run on them.”

“Sorry,” Pfton said with a grunt, dipping his head.

We all wandered to one of the machines, standing on the platforms and studying the panel with the buttons. Pfton and Morag had a bit of a tussle over the only non-broken treadmill left, with Pfton losing and having to use the one he’d punched.

“Push the green button,” I told Pug.

The word spread and soon we were all running in place, trying to keep from flying off the back of the moving platform. Willa walked among us, clearly judging our performance. Two orcs fell off the treadmill. I was happy that I was not one of them.

“Increase the speed to five miles per hour and increase the incline to one,” she instructed.

It took a few seconds for us to figure out what buttons to push, but soon we were all running at the speed of five with the platform angled slightly upward. The sound was deafening. Machines whirred. Orc feet pounded. In the background some hidden speakers began to play a tune about eyes of tigers. I found myself running to the beat and thinking about rising up to the challenge of our rifle.

Did human weaponry delivery challenges? Were firearms sentient as so many of the fae swords were? I would need to consult the internet to learn what specific kinds of rifles challenged their owners.

We ran until the tiger rifle song had ended and continued to run clear through another song about being struck by thunder. I did not understand how that was possible. Lightning struck? Yes, that was a terrible thing which occurred even back home, causing forests to burn and killing livestock. While I did not know any orc who had personally been stricken down by lightening, I had heard tales of those who had been so unfortunate. But how would someone be struck by the thunder? Perhaps the singer meant they had lost their hearing due to the loudness of the noise. That made sense as the song itself was just as loud as some thunder I had personally heard.

“Up the speed to seven miles per hour, but keep the incline where it is,”

Quite a few of us grumbled at that, but did as the terrifying woman commanded. Orcs are built to run for very long distances, but we are not anywhere near the fastest beings in our world. I assumed the same would be true here. The number seven wasn’t terribly fast, but to sustain that speed for extended periods of time would be difficult. We ran for what felt like forever. A song played where a woman entreated us to “get on the floor” and a man insisted we needed to pump and drive vehicles in reverse. There were lots of other words delivered in fast succession. I couldn’t make sense of them and stay on the treadmill. And I really wanted to stay on the treadmill in spite of the song telling me I should do otherwise.

“Okay. Stop the treadmills and lower the incline down to zero,” Willa shouted.

While a few clumsy orcs had fallen off and needed to jump back on again, none of us were particularly exhausted. A thin sheen of sweat beaded my chest, hidden by my shirt, but I doubted any of the others were sweaty or winded. Willa had clearly taken pity on us and not made us run for hours at that pace as I had feared.

But we were not done. I should have realized that Willa wouldn’t allow us to end with just a short run. She led us out of the room and into another one filled with machines and metal disks slid onto metal poles. Willa had us take turns on the machines, pushing, pressing, and pulling. Then we used the poles with the metal disks to do various movements. Pfton, show off that he is, twirled the metal pole above his head like it was a fighting staff. A support pin bent and several of the metal disks flew off, denting the floor with one nearly decapitating Grung. Willa yelled at Pfton and it was amusing to see the orc groveling and apologizing to the human female.

Our workout was not yet done. Willa took us out into the other hall and made us run up and down the length while passing absurdly heavy balls back and forth mid-sprint.

“Okay guys,” she shouted once we had done so many running passes that I’d nearly passed out. “Grab some water, take a breath, and then we’re going to do some battle ropes - orc-style.”

“What are battle ropes?” Pfton asked me as we staggered to the jugs of water and inadequately sized paper cups.

“No. Idea.” I wheezed back.

“I have never battled with ropes before,” Ozar informed us. The orc wasn’t even breathing heavy.

“Perhaps we are going to use them like whips,” Ugwyll said, equally unbothered by our recent exercise.

“Tie. Each other up. And try to escape?” Pug gasped before downing a tiny cup of water and reaching to refill it.

Morag slapped him on the back, causing him to spill his next cup of water. “Toothkin! How would that make us better at this hockey game?”

“Whipping each other with ropes won’t make us better at hockey either,” Pug argued. “Neither will throwing balls back and forth or running on moving platforms. I do not think this Willa female knows what she is doing.”

A low warning growl came from Eng’s throat. I wasn’t sure what the snobby prince was upset about, and assumed he was just annoyed at the petty discussion taking place between the others.

“Do not argue.” I typed on my phone and turned the screen around to face them. “The internet says that Willa is making us perform activities that strengthen certain muscles which are key to having success on the hockey ice. She is an expert human female–more expert than us who only have known about this game for a little more than a whole moon. She is a friend to Ozar’s mate, and I trust that she wants us to win games.”