Page 137 of Blood Feast

Lio laughed. “And a Hesperine with an adamas stick…?”

“You have the potential to be a terrifying enemy. But one disadvantage is that it leaves your hands vulnerable, so let’s start with how to hold it properly.” Mak began a patient demonstration, adjusting Lio’s grip.

“He’s a good teacher,” Cassia commented to Lyros.

A fond smile came to his face. “He’s the best trainer the Stand has had since Lyta herself, and he doesn’t even realize it.”

Mak was such a good mentor for Bosko. When would they see him and Zoe again? Cassia longed to wrap her arms around her little Grace-sister right now.

Lyros must have been thinking of the sucklings, too, for he said, “Mak began his Stand training when he was younger than Zoe, you know.”

“Didn’t you?”

Lyros made a face. “No. I was still struggling through my art studies. Or rather, ditching them as often as I could to follow Mak to the gymnasium. Goddess, I was such a little idiot, sweet on him and clueless about why I wanted to punch him so much.”

Cassia laughed, envisioning them as two innocent sucklings full of feelings that were too big for them. “Is that why you started training? Because you didn’t know how to tell your childhood sweetheart you liked him?”

“More or less. But you know, it wasn’t Lyta who taught me how to throw a punch. It was Mak who gave me my first lesson in the battle arts.”

Cassia leaned closer. “I didn’t know that.”

Lyros nodded. “I had failed another attempt at clay modeling. I was so angry. Mak, being Mak, wanted to cheer me up. So he showed me what he had been learning that day. I understood it, and Ienjoyedit.”

“And not only because you were sweet on Mak.”

“Yes, I enjoyed the actual training, too. So he kept giving me lessons after his practice sessions. When Lyta noticed how I took to the battle arts, she spoke to my parents about formally training me.”

Mak had now taken Lio’s staff to show him a series of guards, high and low, left and right. His demonstrations made the defensive postures easy for even Cassia to grasp.

“How did Timarete and Astrapas react?” she asked.

“They deemed it a good outlet that would help me concentrate on my studies.” Lyros snorted. “Then they thought my obsession with the battle arts was a youthful phase. I think they were in denial until I told them Mak is my Grace. They finally had to accept I had no aptitude for art whatsoever and that they had no hope of prying me away from my future in the Stand with him.”

Cassia leaned her shoulder against his, shaking her head. “How did you end up in Orthros’s most artistic bloodline?”

“Because of these.” Lyros held out his hands and wiggled his fingers. “You know that when I was an urchin in Namenti, I pickpocketed Basir, and that’s how he and Kumeta found me.”

“And of course, being Hesperines, they repaid your attempt at theft by taking you to safety in Orthros.”

“My parents thought any hands deft enough to pickpocket a Hesperine would be better suited to crafting great works of art.”

“Hmm. But they turned out more suited to breaking noses.”

“As Mak taught me that day.” Lyros gave a huff. “He still keeps that hideous lump of clay in our residence. I can’t convince him to throw it out.”

Mak tossed Lio’s staff back to him so he could practice the guards. As Lio went through them in turn, Mak watched, pausing to correct Lio’s posture here and there.

Cassia wrapped her arms around her knees. “We’ve scarcely had a chance to talk like this since we had to leave Orthros.”

“Not much time for that while trying to stay alive,” Lyros agreed.

Cassia considered her words. The Blood Union was helping her get better at understanding and supporting others. But her new empathic abilities weren’t much help when Lyros was keeping his feelings so close to his chest.

So she tried simply asking. “How are you holding up?”

Lyros put an arm around her shoulders and gave her a brief hug. “As well as any of us, I suppose.”

“I owe you an apology. I can imagine how you feel watching your careful plan about the weapons fall apart like this. You and Mak had everything under control until my spell gave us away. I know we all share responsibility for what happened, but I want you to know how sorry I am for my part in it.”

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