A Dawn of Onyx (The Sacred Stones, #1)(64)

“What are we doing?” I asked.

“Using a different kind of weapon. Close your eyes.”

I did as I was told. I had learned not to question Dagan. When it came to self-defense, the man knew what he was talking about.

“Think of your greatest strength. Tell me what you feel.”

My brows knit together. My greatest strength? Nothing really came to mind. I was proud of my ability to heal people, but it wasn’t as much a strength as an ability. A gift, maybe. I felt strong when I ran, but did that qualify as a strength? I had never thought of it as such. My family came to mind—how taking care of them made me feel strong. But I had never been as good at it as Ryder had.

“I can’t think of anything,” I admitted. It was more shameful than I cared to admit.

“That’s not what I asked. What do you feel?”

I sat stubbornly still. Something about having my eyes closed brought emotions I wasn’t aware of to the surface. “Sad. And alone. Which makes me feel afraid.”

“Stay with that feeling. What does the fear make you feel?”

I sighed. “Trapped. Sometimes it’s just hard. To wake up each day knowing how much of my life will be ruled by it, by being afraid.”

“That feeling you have when your heart is racing, chest is tight, mouth is dry. Do you know what that is?”

I nodded. “Terror.”

“No, Arwen. It is power.”

I was trying to follow his guidance, but it didn’t really make any sense.

“Dagan, I don’t think this is working. Whatever this is. Can we stop for today?” I peeked one eye open.

His words were instantaneous. “Eyes closed.”

“How—?”

“Eyes. Closed.”

The wind was howling through the trees in our training field. With my eyes shut the noises of the keep preparing for tonight were heightened—carts being loaded and furniture being moved in the distance.

“When you are afraid,” Dagan continued. “Your body fuels you to run or to fight. Filling you with the power to protect yourself, one way or another. You are an excellent runner. Now you are becoming an excellent fighter as well. I cannot say those feelings of fear will ever dissipate. But you can harness them. Make them work for you. Turn that fear into courage. After all, they are one and the same.”

There was some truth to his words. The panic attacks I suffered, medically speaking, were just a torrential influx of adrenaline. But when I was ensnared by them, it was nearly debilitating. Very hard to see that as some kind of untapped power.

I sat in silence as instructed until my back ached and my tailbone went numb. When whatever Dagan hoped for hadn’t happened, he stopped us.

“We’ll try again tomorrow.”

I pushed myself up with a groan. “Somehow I think I’ll miss the sword fighting.” It didn’t come out playful like I’d hoped.

Dagan considered me.

“Who do you think is more courageous when charging into battle? The knight who has nothing to fear, surrounded by hundreds of his fellow men, armed with all the weapons on the continent, or the lone knight, with no one beside him, nothing but his fists, and everything to lose?”

For reasons that I couldn’t comprehend, the question made me feel like crying. “The latter.”

“Why?” he asked.

“Because he knows he can’t win, and he chooses to fight anyway.”

“There is only true courage in facing what frightens you. What you call fear is indeed power, and you can wield it for good.”

I looked down, deflecting his searching gaze.

I felt doomed to fail him. Whatever he hoped was within me, I was sure it was not.

“You remind me of… I would have been very proud to see my daughter grow up like you, Arwen.”

For a moment I was speechless. It was the kindest thing I’d ever heard him say. It was maybe the kindest thing anyone besides my own mother had ever said to me.

“What happened to her?” I asked tentatively. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.

Dagan bent down to pick up the swords and wrap them in their coverings. “My wife and infant daughter were killed by the very man that Kane wages war against.” I staggered back at the horror of his words. “That grief, that anger. I find a way to harness it each morning to face the day, and each night to go to sleep. We all have demons. What defines us is how we choose to face them.”

My heart twisted and cracked inside of me.

“I am so sorry.” It was all I could find.

“Thank you,” he nodded to me, and we headed back to the keep in our usual silence.

I felt sick to my stomach. For Dagan, and for the fact that I was planning to leave tonight, and possibly to return to the kingdom responsible for his loss? All of it suddenly felt very wrong.





EIGHTEEN


The reflection staring back at me in the gilded mirror barely resembled my face. I had never seen so much charcoal in my life—Mari had painted my eyes with the smoky mixture and my lips a dark scarlet.

“That’s enough. Honestly, Mar. I look like a pirate. Or a lady of the night.”

“Or both! A beautiful pirate whore,” Mari said, dusting more dark powder onto my eyelids.

The look wasn’t helped by the off-the-shoulder night black gown she had squeezed me into.