Page 98 of The Shadowed Oracle
Tyla rose to her feet and took a more relaxed, flowing position. Ingrid countered by drawing a second knife, knowing the more defensive technique her mentor was telegraphing had holes when the opponent could combo strikes in quick succession.
They inched closer, seeing all the possible moves play out before either actually swung. Circling. Waiting.
Ingrid saw an opening, took two quick steps toward Tyla, but hesitated and eased back into her trot.
“You missed it,” Tyla grunted. “You could’ve had me.”
“It wasn’t—you told me not to strike first.”
“Yes. But what happens if your opponent refuses to attack first?” Tyla moved forward, opened that same shoulder up, almost announcing a strike, but pulled it back just before she was into her swing.
“I’m waiting,” Ingrid said. “What happens?”
“That’s for you to answer,” Tyla snorted. “This is the next level of your training.” She continued to circle Ingrid, pulling her own second knife and twirling them in both hands.
Impatient, Ingrid lunged forward at the first opening she saw. Tyla had crossed her feet over as she picked up the pace of her defensive trot, which caused her hips to close off and her sword hand to drop back. Ingrid tried to take advantage.
But she was too slow. Once Ingrid had exposed her chest in the process of her strike, Tyla had spun to the floor again androse up with an elbow, knocking the wind out of Ingrid, then pouncing on her.
“Bullshit,” Ingrid muttered. “You just taught me that first lesson so you could show off with this one.”
Ingrid slapped Tyla’s knife away, rolling out from under her.
“And so what if I did?” Tyla said. “Do you object to my teaching methods now?’
“No,” Ingrid blurted. “I mean, yes. I object. You got my confidence up and then you—” Her temper died down as soon as the lesson became clear.
The greatest mistake would be to assume she knew anything. The best lesson was to realize you could always learn more.
“Combat,” Tyla said. “Is about adaptability. Master all you can. But never rely on any of it. Each fighter is different. Even the most skilled swordsman can be figured out and exploited. With each new opponent, you learn to fight all over again.”
With unlabored grace, Tyla moved to the chair sitting just outside the fighting square. A carafe of fresh water was awaiting her there, with a set of large bronze cups set next to it. She poured one cup for herself, then one for Ingrid, beckoning her student with a lift of the drink.
Ingrid sat on the floor in front of her, catching her breath before taking a long, well-earned gulp. Staring at her teacher, she couldn’t help but note the lack of sweat on her brow and the ease of her breathing.
“So, I’ve been meaning to ask.” The heavy thump of Ingrid’s heart caused her to pause. She took another long sip of water. “Who taught you to fight?” she asked after a moment.
She’d never posed this question before. All she knew about the twins’ background was that their parents were scholars.
“Karis taught me.” Tyla looked baffled that Ingrid hadn’t figured this out yet. “Who else?”
Ingrid shrugged. “I never really thought about it.”
It seemed a silly question now. Karis had started all this, recruited them for his army, and therefore, he must’ve been the first introduction to training of any kind. Ingrid simply didn’t have enough information on Karis to make the connection. With how important her predecessor was to her new friends, it was odd she knew so little about him. Odd, and inconvenient.
Maybe, she thought, if she knew more about Karis, she’d know more about her new friends. Dean, specifically. Ingrid had hardly seen him those last few days, a forgotten shadow in the light of day and tardy to every late-night meeting in the princess’s quarters.
“Can you tell me about it?” Ingrid asked. “Or, I guess, more about Karis?” She was inexplicably nervous as the question left her mouth.
“What do you want to know?”
“Anything. Anything at all.”
“Well,” Tyla said, setting her cup down. “To start, he was born in Hydor about a billion years ago.”
“I knew that part,” Ingrid interjected mindlessly.
“Well, excuse me, but you did sayanything.”
