Page 54 of Forgotten Queen

Cole nodded in approval, dismissing Petyr.

We went down a long hall, a winding staircase, and then reached a part of the palace I’d never seen before. There were guards scattered throughout the palace, wearing uniform fighting leathers. The outstretched dirt ring, with an elevated platform, was obviously where they trained. Entrances lined the ground level, but Cole led us out one level above.

In a fluid movement, he jumped down. I followed, finding him halfway across the training ring before my feet sank into the dry ground.

Without warning, a spark of silver flew my way. My hand stretched out, shifter reflexes and months of training allowing me to catch the foreign object rather than letting it slice me in half.

A sword. Cole had just thrown a three-foot-long, razor-sharp blade at me.

“Let’s get started.”

Chapter XXVII

Thesteelbladewasheavy in my hand, the weight unfamiliar when I’d only fought with fists and claws before. Immediately, Phaidros’s deadly skill with his wicked sword came to mind.

A new weapon. One I wanted to train withdesperately. In fact, I’d planned to ask before I’d gotten stuck as a wolf. A coincidence, or could he actually read my mind?

Cole stared me down from across the arena, his own sword held low as he considered the blade.

“Shouldn’t we be using practice swords or something?”

“Why bother?” Cole’s voice was as nonchalant as ever.

I adjusted my grip on the blade. It was lighter than I’d expected, only a few pounds, but I enjoyed the way it moved in my hands. I held it up to catch the light, examining the edge. The blade was so sharp I imagined in skilled hands it could split a strand of hair in two.

And he’d thrown it at me like it was nothing.

“I could hurt you.”

Cole laughed, the sound filling the arena. “You can try, little wolf.”

I glared.

“Besides, we won’t be sparring today. As eager as you might be to fight me, you need to first learn the basics.”

Okay, that made abitmore sense than having the two of us immediately go at it.

“So everyone trains with real steel from the get-go?”

“Not exactly,” Cole conceded. “But I think it’s prudent to accelerate your training, and you’ll learn more by nicking yourself on a real blade, with the real weight behind it, than by using a stick.”

There it was again. That undercurrent of urgency that so often came from Cole and Hecate.

I didn’t argue the point. Being in that tavern with nothing to defend myself and Daphne with but my own hands and inconsistent magic was frightening.

“Then let’s begin.”

Cole moved me into position. It started, he explained, with footwork. We spent twenty minutes making sure my feet were positioned just right. From our previous training, I was pretty good at keeping my weight evenly distributed, but the sword work required more precision.

Once that was done, he taught me some basic positions and began to drill me. Block. Dodge. Lunge. Block, dodge, lunge. Over and over until it was nearly a dance. He’d alter the order, critiquing my form if my arm dropped even half an inch too far.

No one fought with weapons in Moon-Ghost. Disputes were settled with fists or fangs, but that made sense when your opponents were also shifters.

I’d never been good at fighting growing up, but the drills came to me quickly. Quicker than even Cole seemed to expect. Sweat dripped on my brow, my muscles aching after hours of repetitive, relentless movement, but the real game was keeping my mind sharp through everything. I found myself enjoying the challenge. It wasn’t just that it felt good to move, it was exorcising the restless energy that plagued me. The blade quickly became a natural extension of my hand.

Cole’s orders came faster.

“Dodge! Lunge! Parry! Switch! Lunge! Again! High block! Low! Thrust! Dodge!” Cole barked one command after the other, not giving a moment’s rest between them. The sequence was new and the longest yet. My muscles screamed, but I ignored the protest and concentrated on meeting his demands.

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