Page 11 of Spirit Trials
“Come, Young One,” Hector says from behind me. “Get something to eat; it will help.”
“I don’t feel like eating.”
“You still need to,” he says in response. I stand there a few minutes longer before finally caving.
Lox kicks out a chair for me across from him. “Welcome.”
I slide into the chair, looking around the table, irritated. “Are you trying to fatten me up before you kill me?”
“Are you always this distrusting?” Lox asks with a slight smile.
“Of people who kidnap me? Yes. One hundred percent of the time.”
“At least we didn’t kill you,” Jamik says without looking up from his food.
“Is that supposed to be a comfort?”
Jamik gives me a rare smile, and I sigh. I guess he has a point. “Since I’m stuck here, why don’t you tell me why I’m here.” Not one of them says a word. Lox only shakes his head.
“You have to talk to Rysden about that.”
Chapter 9
The next two days drag by. I spend most of the time in my room; I’m not sure what else I’m supposed to do. I’ve pretty much worn a hole in the floor with all my pacing. I don’t know what’s going to happen next, but I do know that all this extra time to worry about my mother and brother and my village isn’t doing me any good.
This morning, I decided I wasn’t going to spend one more moment in my room; or I’d surely lose my mind. I helped the guys make breakfast and then told them I’d wash the dishes. I’m just finishing the last dish when Rysden walks in. It’s obvious the guys already knew he was back. I turn around and face him. Two days of him being gone, and I’ve already forgotten how formidable he is. With his dark hair and strong jaw, he’s already intense. But then you add his height, muscle, and his permanent scowl, and he’s sort of terrifying. He brings with him this sense of...power or something. I’m not quite sure yet what exactly it is. “Let’s go,” he says, interrupting my train of thought. I look at the other guys, but they’re not paying any attention.
“Me?” I put down the towel and follow him as he strides away. I blow out a breath. "You could ask, you know.”He ignores me and opens a door and begins to make his way down a winding stone staircase. There are lanterns burning with permalight on the walls to light our way. “Are you taking me down into a dungeon to torture me?” I ask.
“Yes.”
I can’t really tell if he’s teasing or not so when he turns suddenly, I step back and put my hands up. He looks down at my hands and then back at my face. “Come on.” He sounds irritated,and I wonder if he’s going to take it out on me. I follow him to an open area and take it all in. The walls are lined with every kind of weapon imaginable, and there’s a huge open stone area that’s roped off. Rysden walks over to the weapons wall and turns around to face me. “Over here.” I walk over to him, still staring at the wall in awe. He starts picking up a few weapons. “You’re small. Weak. Small fingers.” I frown, but before I can defend myself, he faces me. “Try this.” He holds out a knife. I stare at him a minute before I finally reach out and take it. “How’s the weight of that?”
I shake my head. “I’m sorry. What is happening right now?”
He has the audacity to scowl at me. “We’re finding weapons that will work for you. You’re small and—”
“Goodness, will you stop with that already? First of all, I am not small, and I’m not weak.” To prove my point, I jab my finger in his chest. It’s a whole lot harder than I was expecting; I’m pretty sure I just jammed my finger. I scowl at him.
“You done?” he asks with no emotion. “Youaresmall, and youareweak. Those are the facts. That’s something we’re going to have to change.”
I laugh without humor. “You’re going to make me taller?” I’m not super tall, but I’m not short either. Of course, compared to him, everybody is short.
He says nothing. From the wall, he grabs something that’s small enough, it fits in his palm. “Ever thrown one of these before?” He holds out a star with four wickedly sharp points.
“Whoa,” I say, taking it from him.
“It’s a throwing star. I already know you can use a bow, but I don’t know how good your accuracy is from far away.”
“Want to be a test subject, and we can see?” I ask without skipping a beat.
“No.” He holds up one of the throwing stars. “You hold it here and throw it either vertical or horizontal.” He turns and throwsit, nailing one of the targets on the wall. I work hard to keep my expression unimpressed when just the opposite is true. When he turns back to me, he hands me one and nods at the target. “Let’s see what you can do.” I want to ignore him, but I also really want to try throwing the star. I keep my mouth shut and copy exactly what he did, but mine doesn’t even make it to the target. I scowl and retrieve it. “The force comes from your arm; you only flick it with your wrist,” he says. I try again. This time, the star makes it to the target; it just doesn’t stick. He hands me another one, and I try again. It takes me four stars to get one to stick, and three more to get it to land in the center. I’m riding high, but he doesn’t even acknowledge it. “Do that ten more times and then come over to the circle.” He walks away, and I watch him go.
“Why?” I ask.
“Why what?” he asks without turning back.
“Why are you showing me this? I would think you would want me to remain, you know, weak and small,” I say taunting him.
