Ecstasy Untamed (Feral Warriors #6)(68)

He nodded and released her, then turned away.

She felt Hawke's hand on her shoulder. "I need to get some things."

"Where are we doing this, Wings?" Tighe asked.

"Backyard. I want to get her throwing some knives."

Faith gaped at him.

"Backyard it is." Tighe motioned her toward the back door. "It'll be interesting to see what animal you shift into, Faith." He held the door for her, and she stepped out into the warm sunshine as he and Fox followed. "Fighting in your animal is instinctive. But you won't always be in a position to shift. You need to know how to use a knife and swords, how to block attacks, how to attack where you can do the most damage. A year ago, I'd have said most of your opponents would be Mage or draden, but they may well be Ferals now. Or, goddess help us, Daemons."

"How in the hell do you fight a Daemon?" Fox asked.

"We're still figuring that out."

"Some animals are going to be better fighters than others," Faith murmured.

"Always."

"What animals are left? What might I be?" She was starting to wonder, and with the wondering came an excitement she hadn't allowed herself to feel until now.

The back door opened, and Hawke stepped out, igniting a small glow deep in her chest. She always felt better when he was close by. Safer. Stronger.

"Honestly," Tighe said, "I don't know. The seventeen were lost before I was marked. Since I've been a Feral, no one has ever talked about them except as the seventeen. Only Kougar and Lyon were around at the time. They're the only ones who know."

Hawke joined them. "It's something we never ask about. Even after all these years, the death of seventeen brothers is just too raw. But Kougar has been telling me things lately, stories of the past. I've been able to piece together a few things. There were once three birds - the hawk, the eagle, and the falcon. And one of my father's best friends was a horse." Hawke handed her the hilt of a knife. "Time to get to work."

For half the afternoon, the three men worked with her, showing her how to wield two knives at once, how to attack a Mage's hands first so he couldn't enchant her with his touch, how to protect her own head and heart. And how to throw a knife so that it landed stuck in a tree . . . or an opponent's eye . . . tip first. At least, theoretically. Mastering it would take years of practice. At one point, each held a two-by-four, urging her to pretend the ends were draden, ordering her to stab at them until the sweat was rolling into her eyes, and her muscles felt like jelly.

They nearly drove her to her knees. And to tears.

"Stop," Tighe said.

She was finding that Hawke was the hardest taskmaster of the three, which was unexpected. Then again, he cared the most that she learn to fight.

"Close your eyes, Faith," Tighe said.

"You've got . . . to be kidding." She was sucking in air through her nose, trying to keep from hyperventilating.

"Trust me. Just close them. You're relying too heavily on your vision. Your other senses haven't yet improved as they will when you come into your animal, but they're still stronger than you realize. Listen to the sound of the board, to the brush of fabric as we move our arms, feel the breeze from the boards. Sense them around you."

She could hardly even hold the knives any longer. But she did as Tighe suggested and closed her eyes. And immediately felt the end of one board bump into her arm and another nudge her hip. She stabbed wildly, hitting nothing.

With frustration bordering on desperation, she opened her eyes. "I can't do this."

"Aye, you can, Faith," Fox said, his voice soft and encouraging.

She swung her gaze to the golden one and glared at him.

His eyes smiled, but his expression remained serious. "Some of the finest fighters we have in the Therian Guard are females. They're quick and light and nimble. The most important thing in winning a battle, even hand-to-hand, isn't strength. It's confidence. The belief that you'll win. Seeing that certainty in your eyes strikes a blow into the heart of your opponent every time. He wonders what you know, what you can do, that he isn't ready for. It fecks with his mind. But to show that kind of confidence, you must believe in yourself. Completely. That's why practicing like this is so important. In the Guard, we train four to five hours a day. Every day."

She groaned.

Tighe tossed his two-by-four aside and came over to her, curving his arm around her shoulders. "Don't get discouraged. It doesn't happen overnight. You did fine today."

"Tighe's right," Fox said. "In my experience, a new recruit's initial strength and skill has almost no correlation to her ultimate fighting abilities."

Faith gave him a hard, exhausted look. "You're just trying to make me feel better."

"Not at all. Within three days of beginning training, I can almost always tell who will end up at the top of the class. And it has nothing to do with his or her skills. What matters is how hard they're willing to work. How bad they want it. If you put everything you have into what you're trying to accomplish - no matter who you are or where you start - you can move mountains. And you did that today, Faith. You put everything into it. I'm proud of you."

She gave him an exhausted smile. "Thank you."

Tighe stepped beside Fox. "As I said earlier, a lot of us weren't happy about being chosen to be Feral Warriors. Not all of us wanted this job. We got it anyway, for whatever reason. And we've given everything we have to be the best damn Feral Warriors we can be. That's what we're asking of you, Faith. Simply to be the best Feral you can be. And cut us some slack when you turn into some big monster of a beast, will you? Remember that we're your friends." He grinned at her, and she laughed.