Page 90 of Fires of the Forsaken
“Ignore it.”
“Screw you,” I ground out. “I think I broke my ankle.”
“Because you got distracted. Whining won’t make it better.” Cheriour knelt, putting his face level with mine. When he spoke again, his voice was a soft murmur. “I’m not doing this to be cruel. When you’re injured in battle, succumbing to pain is a death sentence. Get up. Ignore the discomfort. Start again.”
He stood, never pulling his gaze away from my face.
I wiggled my toes and bit back a cry when a fresh jolt of pain bulleted up my ankle. Warrior Princess, I was not.
“I’ll give you thirty seconds,” Cheriour said. “You can either compose yourself, or you can prepare to leave the city.” He turned his back to me, focusing on the others as they completed their exercises.
Quinn still stared, likely waiting for me to throw in the towel. I swore his smug gaze was going to burn a hole in my forehead.
I didn't want to get up. Or fight.
But I also didn’t want to let Cheriour down. He’d stuck his neck out for me. Multiple times. Giving up now would be a shitty way to repay him.
Slowly, wincing the whole time, I got to my feet. My ankle was about as sturdy as a toothpick. I clenched my jaw until it popped.Two minutes.I could do this.
“Go ahead,” I said to Kaelan as I braced myself.
We started again.
Kaelan shifted to the right, the left, forward, left, sideways—pretty much every direction except backward. Every time he moved, I had to move, and each step wasagony.
I’d partnered with Kaelan enough times to learn his little tells. He tilted his upper body before he stepped. So if he went to the right, he’d lean his shoulders that way first. If I noticed it in time, if I moved fast enough, I could beat him to the spot.
“Motherfu—” I skittered to the left, countering the step Kaelan had been about to take.
He paused and tilted his shoulders forward.
I did a short bunny hop, wobbling on my weak, searing ankle, and forced him to stumble back.
He stopped again and lifted the tip of his pole over his head; like a lumberjack, getting ready to split wood.
I threw my hands (and my pole) up to protect my face.
Swish. Clank.
The end of his stick clashed with the edge of mine.
As my right arm went down, absorbing the force, my left arm swung up, smashing my pole into Kaelan's temple. And it was ahardhit. A dull (and squishy)thunkpierced the air. Kaelan's head snapped sideways. He blinked, looking dazed.
“Eeeeek!” The pole slipped from my fingers as I clapped a hand over my mouth. “I amsosorry!” I reached for him and combed my fingers through his hair. “Are you bleeding?” He wasn't,thank God, but he’d have a lump. “Can you see okay? How many fingers am I holding up?” I flashed two fingers in front of his face but tore them away before he could realistically count them. “What are concussion symptoms again? Headache, puking…and fainting? Do you feel like you're gonna puke or faint? Because—why are you smiling?”
Kaelan had this big, shit-eating grin on his face. “It wasn't quite two minutes,” he said, “but that seems to be a good stopping point. Do you agree, Cheriour?”
I whipped my head around. Cheriour still stood a few feet away, but he’d turned to face us again.
“I agree.” Cheriour twisted his fingers around his beard. “That wasalmostadequate, Addie.”
Considering his critiques were either“awful”or“not entirely awful,”an“almost adequate”was like winning a gold medal at the Olympics.
“I don’t get it,” I blurted. “I nearly knocked him out...”
“You anticipated his movements, and reacted accordingly. That was all I wanted you to learn today.”
“Um, well…are yousureyou’re okay?” I tapped Kaelan’s shoulder. “Can you remember what you ate for breakfast?”
