Page 20 of Memory of Ashes

Amelia kept still, not wanting to draw any attention. She was already uncomfortable.

Tharos shook his head and stormed from the room. His anger still simmered in the air.

Casyl turned to Ruven. “Do you have any problems with this?”

Ruven raised an eyebrow. “Not at all. When do we begin?”

“What if I have a problem with this?” Amelia asked, standing up.

They both spun around to face her, as if they’d forgotten her existence.

“That’s not really a problem,” Casyl replied.

She should have a choice.

Ruven’s eyebrows rose.

“So, you’re going to train me to use my power. Power that allows me to block yours. What’s stopping me from using it against you?” she asked.

He moved so quickly that she barely had time to register his movement. In one fluid motion, he knocked her to the floor, pinned her wrists above her head with one hand and held a knife at her throat with the other.

His body pressed against hers. Her pulse throbbed beneath his grip.

“You can block my powers,” he whispered into her ear. “But I don’t always need them.”

He released her and rose, sliding his dagger back into its sheath. He looked at Ruven. “Start with self-defence.” He walked out of the room.

*

The morning air was chilly, but Amelia was dripping with sweat. Ruven had begun teaching her how to defend herself. They stood in the fortress’s courtyard. The tall walls were oppressive, but the small, windowless room had been worse.

The walls showed signs of erosion, the stone darkened in patches. Moss and plants had begun to grow, clinging to shaded cracks in the wall. It was the only natural life that she could see in this barren place.

They gave her new clothes to replace the torn, dirty garments she’d been wearing, and new leather boots that laced up her calves. They had struggled to find clothes in her size because the fae were larger in stature, so they had resorted to using juvenile garments. The padded leather jerkin clung tightly to her body. Ruven assured her it would soften any impact.

She adopted the defensive stance Ruven had shown her, her fists raised.

Her breath came fast and hard, clouding the air in front of her. She was fit, but fighting was something new to her, and her muscles weren’t used to it.

“Okay, let’s see what you’ve got,” Ruven said. He swung a fist towards her head, his movements slowed by her ability. He now probably only had the strength and speed of an ordinary fae. She instinctively dodged, kept her fists high and aimed a punch at him.

“Not bad, but not good either.” He laughed.

They spent the morning practising blocks and proper footwork. At one point, she noticed Casyl observing them from a distance. She licked the sweat from her dry lips.

Ruven was a good partner. He was a little quiet, but she could always see the hint of mischief dancing in his eyes, and her early attempts at fighting had clearly amused him.

He looked up at the sun. “Tharos will be along soon for your next lesson. Let’s take a break.”

“What will he be teaching me?” Amelia asked, glad for the rest. Tharos had a way of making every mistake feel like it was being permanently noted.

He spoke to her only if necessary and barely acknowledged her existence. The only reason he was teaching her was that he’d been ordered to.

“You need to learn to control your power against different abilities, and Tharos’s mental abilities are strong,” he said. “I’m giving you a physical workout.” He winked at her.

“Stronger than Casyl’s?” she asked, ignoring his joke.

“No, Casyl is different.” He shifted uncomfortably, not elaborating any further. Whenever she asked about Casyl, Ruven tensed, as though discussing him were forbidden.