Page 26 of Exquisite Monster
“These seem like crossbow bolts,” I said.
“They are similar,” Gleym said. “And there are mechanisms with which they can be shot. But you must also know how to throw them.”
Varífluttered away so he wasn’t close before I looked at the target. I wasn’t sure how to release the dart from my hand. It needed my strength, but also speed.
I cocked my arm over my shoulder like one might throw a spear and hurled it.
It smacked against the wall with a clatter and fell to the floor. Well, that didn’t work.
“Again.”
I did try again. From every vantage I could come up with. Underhanded and over. Arced and straight. Harder and softer. My throws didn’t get any better, and as my frustration grew, my throws grew sloppier.
So many darts littered the ground by the wall that it looked like a debris field. There was one left before I’d have to collect them all. I brought it up to my opposite shoulder and hurled it with a frustrated yell. It struck the wall and fell.
But it had held on for a second first.
My breath froze, and I stared at it. Gleym smirked, satisfied.
“What did I do differently?”
“Think about the movement.” Every dart slid across the ground and ordered themselves neatly at my feet like an army. “Repeat it.”
I picked up a dart and obeyed. I brought my hand to my opposite shoulder before I flung it out. The windup allowed me to use what strength I had, and the release allowed the small projectile to fly straight. It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t even good. But it was something.
“Start there,” Gleym said. “If the very tip hits the wall, it will stay.That is all you are trying to accomplish. Power can and will come later. And use both hands. You never know which one will be free when you need it.”
It took me another ten tries to hit the wall properly. Once. And double that to do it again. Already my arms ached with the force of the repeated motion, on top of all the fighting and brewing of potions we’d already been doing. But I would take the pain if it meant I would get back to them faster.
Every time I managed to make a dart cling to the wall, I said their names.
Endre.
Sirrus.
Zovai.
Every strike was for them.
Until my arms ached and my lungs burned and sweat made the darts nearly slip from my fingers.
For them.
For them.
For them.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
________
SIRRUS
When Endre’s mental walls came down, we felt it.
Exhaustion and… pain.
Endre?
