Page 39 of Taken to Nobu
I shake my head. “Not a chance.”
“Xhivey.”
“Was that all you’ve got?”
He snarls or smiles or both when I reposition my feet into a fighting stance. Hip-distance apart. Right foot in front of the left. Body angled to present a smaller target. Hands positioned just wider than shoulder-width apart on the staff to give me better control as I learn this new weapon. It’s incredible. Like wielding a blade made of water. My thoughts flick back to the wall of wonders and fleetingly I imagine that he just might let me try them all, even the dagger bow.
I charge and we spar, beating one another forward and back. “Again,” he barks when I finally manage to connect my spear end with his shoulder. “Faster.”
I try again, unsuccessful in hitting him this time, but I do manage to block him three times more and stop him from striking me in the stomach, back, arms and thighs — all places that on the coming solar are sure to be bruised and sore.
“Xhivey,” he says. Then, “Pick up your feet.”
I didn’t realize I’d been letting my arches fall flat and quickly correct the stance.He’s training me. He’s training me and he’s an alien.
And we’re on a date.
We keep going. I fight harder and faster, wanting to prove to him that I’m something of worth. Wanting to prove it to myself too.
My arms are heavy and I’m sweating even though he doesn’t look like he’s winded in the slightest. We’ve been at this for eons and that little tear on his vest is all he has to show for it.
“Kiki,” he says quietly in between two resoundingthwacks. “We should stop. Training is winding down. Soon the warriors will tire from simply watching us.”
I can see a dozen or so warriors milling about in my peripheries. Done with their own training, they drink from water skins and flasks and speak out of earshot with one another.About me. They’re all watching. Wondering if I’m just the pathetic girl who couldn’t beat Bo’Raku, who cost them the life of one of their own, who thinks she’s fit to lead.I’ll prove it to them. Prove to them who I am. That I’m a warrior. That I’m capable of anything. That I’m not lesser because I’m human. That I’m not weak.
I spin and swing and Okkari is forced a half-step back. He pushes me away from him, spear-on-spear, and I can’t stand up against the alarming pressure. He’s too strong. Much stronger than I am. I stumble and have to use my spear to stop myself from falling. I hear Jaxal’s voice in my head screaming,Don’t ever let your sword touch the ground!I wince and lurch upright. I attack again and again and again.
“Humans require sustenance three times a solar,” he says between grunts and lithe spins, liquid movements that make him look more like a dancer than a warrior. “You need your final meal…”
“Ifyoudon’t tire, thenIdon’t tire.”
“This is not your last opportunity to train. Do not fight like this is your final battle.”But that’s what it feels like, doesn’t it?
I swing harder the next time and he edges back, pulling me in a circle, forcing me to give chase. I spin and kick up pebbles and earth from the packed ground, thinking to use the same distraction I did the first time, but as I’m learning, so is he. He isn’t fazed by the pebbles and when I bring my staff down, too late I realize that he’s just standing there waiting.
He maneuvers his staff in a figure eight and it’s like he’s turned the piece of metal to rope, knotting it around mine. When he pulls, my spear flies.Never drop your weapon!Jaxal’s voice in my head rages like an angry tide.
I lunge for my helos staff, diving to the ground where I land hard on my knees. I grab it, but a heavy, booted foot is there already, kicking it out of my reach. The spear skates over the floor, landing next to two males clustered, talkingprobably about me and how I lost. How humans could never fight against aliens. How I could never outrun Bo’Raku. How I could never hope to win against the Okkari.
I’m panting now and it has nothing at all to do with the fight, well fought and well lost and everything to do with the voice in my head spitting vitriol and poisoning the well that my encounter with the hevarr and Re’Okkari’s death purified.
I clutch my chest. The Okkari is a beast above me.He can sense how weak I am. Hide it! Just hide…I try to pull back, but all at once, he drops to one knee, falling damn near right on top of me as his entire body curves over mine, hiding me. Protecting me, even if only from myself.But I don’t need protection!
I lurch up, but one gigantic hand slides around the back of my head as he arches over my body and presses his forehead to my forehead.
“Enough,” he says and there is so much in that one word that it hollows out my insides. I close my eyes. I follow his deep, even breath with my breath. “He cannot harm you. Nothing can.”
I nod, unable to speak. The rumbling gets louder, forming a shield around me.
“You do not fight for survival, not anymore. You are a warrior now and you fight for the tribe, for the hunt.” His breath smells like anise and an ocean breeze.
I nod again and when I exhale, I shake just a little bit.
His hand on the back of my hair kneads the nape of my neck. “My warriors know better than to overtax themselves in a training. To be overeager is to be reckless and reckless warriors do not join the first hunt after the thaw. I will take no exception to you simply because you are Xhea. I am Okkari, responsible for all warriors, and if I feel you will not be able to adequately defend yourself and your fellow warriors, then you may train with them but I will not allow you to hunt with them until you have mastered this anger.”
I’m not allowed to go out with the hunters on the human colony. I train with them, but all our hunters are men. I’ve never even been considered. “You…you want me to go with you on a hunt?” I squeeze out the words.
He blinks, eyelids gliding over the round orbs of his eyes. He blinks from the side, reminding me of his alienness in a way I’d forgotten during our fight. “Of course. You are our warrior Xhea. If not fighting at my side, then you will tell me now where else you would rather be.”
