Frey (The Frey Saga, #1)(37)
I twisted the feather I was holding in my hand. Something about it, something about the dogs. How remarkable it must be to master a beast. I wouldn’t have to be battered during training then. I winced a little at the thought of Ruby cracking one of those wolf-dogs with her whip. Better them than me, I guess.
Chapter Eleven
An Education
The next morning, Ruby was in the main room waiting for me. She instructed me to bathe and change; we would be spending the day training. I followed her directives but couldn’t decide whether to be grateful or worried when the clothes she’d laid out for me were plainly meant for a hard day. It was still early as we stole out the back, cloaks covering out heads, and made our way to the ridge.
Steed, Chevelle, Grey, and Anvil were there. I imagined the others, Rhys, Rider, and their dogs were there as well, though I couldn’t see them. Watch dogs, I thought, all four. It was comforting, but Ruby wasted no time in getting to training. She immediately trounced me. Repeatedly. I felt whipped, literally and figuratively, before we’d gone half an hour.
After watching us for a while, Steed stepped in to save me. “Frey,” he'd converted to the nickname the others used in place of the sunnier ones, “why don’t you take a break for a while, let us spar so you can watch… we’ll give you a few pointers.”
I didn’t know if I liked the idea of the group sparring, whether it gave me a break from the beatings or not, but Grey stepped forward and my opinion no longer mattered.
“Just watch… and learn.”
I backed away and sat, cross legged on the ground. Ruby joined me; I could tell she was excited. It seemed everything excited Ruby. Everything that made me nervous, I amended in my head.
Steed and Grey stood opposite each other in the center of the flat we circled. A cursory nod at one another signaled the onset of the bout and both tensed and crouched slightly into a ready stance. I found myself leaning forward in suspense. Chevelle moved to stand beside me, he, too, watching intently. Grey wagged his eyebrows at Steed, taunting him to make the first move.
“Come on, Suzie,” Steed teased back, “let’s see what you’ve got.”
At that, Grey disappeared and then, in a flash, was behind Steed, reaching up to smack him in the back of the head. But just before he struck, Steed ducked into a squat and spun, his extended arms taking Grey’s legs out from under him. And suddenly I was jerking with their moves enthusiastically. Grey caught himself and was gone again, this time reappearing midair in a flip above Steed’s head, reaching down to tag him on the way by. It was a loud smack, I was sure it had stung. Steed was standing again, focused on the spot where Grey had landed and now flickered in and out of view so fast I couldn’t keep up. I made an effort to consider possible responses in my head, but was coming up blank.
The nerves were gone, I found myself wanting Steed to win and leaned with his strikes, tensing as if they were my own. Grey bounded through the air once more, showing off, confident in his evident lead, and then a small rock rose at chest height in front of Steed. I was wondering who had lifted it when I saw Grey flash back into view and hesitate, only a moment, as he considered the rock. At once, his face changed; he knew he’d been beaten. As he'd paused to study the floating rock, Steed had immobilized him and, just like that, the match was over.
Ruby leaned toward me as she spoke softly. “Steed is stronger than Grey, he only needed to catch him.”
Grey conceded, his walk slower, no longer jerky as he made his way out of the makeshift ring. Steed threw me a quick wink.
Anvil approached next, stepping into the same starting position Grey had used, and Steed shifted several paces back before he readied himself and nodded toward his new opponent. I remembered the tree and was suddenly afraid for him. Would Anvil use the same method on a person?
A thunderous crack answered my unspoken question. The lightning bolt was faster than my eyes at such a close distance, by the time I looked at Steed, there was nothing but a wall of water. He had constructed a barrier of sorts, caught the strike and redirected it around himself by melting the snow that spotted the mountain. Anvil was winded, though the strike wasn’t as severe as his previous show. Steed would unquestionably be the winner now and as he took aim to retaliate, his opponent raised his hands in surrender.
“Quick thinking, Mister Summit.” The large man grinned and I was in no doubt they were old friends.
Chevelle stepped forward then, eager. I had a feeling he’d been itching for this the way I’d been itching to burn Ruby. Steed smiled in acceptance, but not the same smile he'd given his last opponent. They stood across from each other and readied themselves. Both tensed but neither took the low, wide stance previously used.
As their eyes fixed on one another, I felt myself, and Ruby beside me, lean forward in anticipation of action. Simultaneously, both men stiffened, their muscles taut, jaws clenched tight, stares focused, determined. I saw nothing happen but knew there must be something, some unseen force causing them pain, draining them. I couldn’t look away but stammered to Ruby, “What’s happening?”
“They are trying to overpower one another.” I could hear the pleasure in her voice. “No silly games, just power,” and the way she said it made me wonder in the back of my mind whether her statement about not having her mother’s ambition was true. But I could not concentrate on anything other than the struggle in front of me. No visible action, I tried to judge by appearance who might be winning. Chevelle’s face was stern and fierce. Steed flinched occasionally, though I had no idea if that was pain or something else. I had no doubt, however, that neither intended to lose. Their stance, right down to their eyes, was absolutely unwavering.