Page 32 of An Empress of Air & Chaos

Gideon’s eyes changed from relaxed to entertained. “Do you really think you could handle it?” He placed down his fork too.

She had to get out of this dining hall before the burning in her cheeks set fire to the place. Emara lifted her tray to leave before her false confidence gave way to the raging embarrassment under her skin and said, “Sure. Show me what you can do in the next training session.”

She turned and left, her heart stammering in her chest.

“I look forward to seeing what you have got,” Gideon challenged, but she did not dare look back to see him. She could feel the radiation from his smile burn into the back of her skull. Or was it the heat from her burning cheeks?

At least she had a little time to herself before the next session started.

The man who had been sitting next to Torin in the dining room led the next session,which was a tour of the whole tower. He introduced himself as Marcus Coldwell, a hunter who had joined the Blacksteel clan from another hunting clan years ago.

Marcus led them through corridor after corridor until they stopped at a weapons room. Emara’s mouth fell open at their artillery, taking in an array of spears, swords, knives, axes, and crossbows that were displayed along shelves, all in order of size and weight. It seemed that anything that could be used to end a demon’s existence lay within this room.

“The minute the hunting siren is sounded, we know we need to make it to this room. We need to stock up for our hunt and do it quickly.” He gave a tug at the belt that lay on his waist. Just like Gideon’s.

Torin nodded once as he fastened a scabbard across his chest, strappinga sword to his back. Emara noticed how relaxed he looked in this room—which was unsettling when all she could see was instruments created to ensure sheer annihilation.

As Marcus talked, her gaze found Gideon; he was caressing a finger over an arrow as he assessed the sharpness of the point.

“Miss Clearwater.” Her attention snapped back to Marcus. “What weapon do you gravitate towards? If you were to choose a weapon, which one would it be? Go to them, see how it feels in your hands.” He picked up a sword. “Feel how it responds to you.”

Emara looked at him and nodded. Everyone in the group started to move around, doing the same, admiring the weapons they were drawn to. She ran her hand over an axe and lifted it. Eyes going wide, she couldn’t believe how heavy it was. She placed it back on the rack with two hands, using every muscle in her arms to do so. Next, she moved across to the swords which looked like they had been handcrafted by the Gods themselves.

Maybe they had. They did look antique.

She tried to pull one of the swords from the casing, but had no luck. The sword was even heavier than the axe.

“Why not try something lighter?” Gideon’s voice stroked the back of her neck like soft velvet. “Someone your size should try something with less weight.”

“We are not training with weapons, are we?”

“No,” Gideon smiled. “You are not ready for that.” His voice floated through the air softly, like he didn’t want to offend her. “But it’s good to know which one calls to you.”

He leaned forward, brushing past her to the spears. He lifted one out the stand and studied it thoroughly. It was a long golden pole with a beautiful emerald encrusted in the middle of the spear; it had two sharp edges.

Double the danger!

The emerald stone winked under the lights of the oil lamps as Gideon moved it gracefully through his hands.

“This is beautiful,” Emara admired, taking hold of the weapon. She slid her finger along the metal, up and down. It felt heavier in her hands than it looked, but it was something that she could work with. Something that, if she were allowed, she might like to train with. “I didn’t realise something so destructive could be so beautiful.”

She looked up, meeting Gideon’s gaze.

He smiled at her like she had said something profound.

Her cheeks flushed as her heart picked up pace.

He took the spear from her grip and said, “The most beautiful things in the world are always the most destructive.”

When coming back into the sparring room for round two of training, Marcus had advised that they must bow in the direction of the painting of Thorin, the God of the Sun and War. He advised that superstitions believed it was disrespectful not to bow, and it would cause misfortune in the next hunt if they didn’t.

So, she had. Emara didn’t need any more misfortune or bad luck.

“Please gather around the mats. Do not enter the mats at any time, unless instructed. Do not even have your foot placed on there because I am not responsible for what might happen to it,” Marcus shouted to the crowd.

Emara watched as both Blacksteel brothers formed a mischievous smile. When doing the tour, Marcus had stopped in at the weapon room for one reason, she realised. And that reason was for the hunters to stock up on weapons for the next session.

“Okay, clan, I am looking for some volunteers to demonstrate to the villagers how we use a weapon in combat,” Marcus said openly. “This should show a thing or two of what we can do when in full battle mode.” A small smile curled at the corner of his lip.

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