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  “You should change,” he responded abruptly, ignoring her greeting.

  “What?” Her brow wrinkled. “I just got changed!”

  “You will be training today. That outfit is hardly appropriate for training.”

  She stiffened. “I’m training to defend myself, right?”

  He nodded.

  “Well, I left off all of my jewelry like you said yesterday. And if I’m attacked by someone, how do you think I’m going to be dressed? Don’t you think I should learn to defend myself in as natural a state as possible?”

  Now he frowned. She had a point. When she smiled because she knew she had a point, his frown intensified.

  “You at least need to go and bind your hair,” he persisted.

  She sniffed and waved a hand in dismissal. “I like to leave it unbound. You know that.”

  He stepped toward her, his gaze holding hers. “I do know that,” he said, taking another long step in her direction until he was less than a foot from her. “I know you have beautiful hair and that you have some justified vanity about it.” He reached out and stroked some of the scented tresses, noted the widening of her enchanting eyes. His fingers sifted through the heavy weight and watched the effect it had on her. “It heats with fiery color when the sunlight hits it.”

  When her lips parted and no words came out, he suddenly changed his hold on her hair, winding the bulk of it around his hand twice in rapid succession. Within a half-second, she was gasping and pressed against him, completely immobile.

  “Ow—hey!” she cried, trying to wriggle away and failing. When she attempted to put her arms up between them to pry herself away, he merely intensified his hold.

  “But as lovely as all of this hair is,” he continued as if he didn’t notice her distress, “it can be used as a weapon against you.”

  He held her just like that, his lips just inches from hers, watching the emotions flash across her features: shock, anger, fear, understanding. And then, when it was just her pressed against him, confusion. And interest.

  His hold on her released so quickly that she nearly fell. He instinctively reached out to steady her, watching as she lifted a hand to rub the back of her head where he had pinned her. She still seemed very conflicted about what had just happened.

  “Bind it,” he said roughly, pushing her bedroom door open to prompt her to obey him.

  The brisk, rude order had the effect he was seeking. She lifted her chin haughtily and flounced into her room, grasping the door in preparation of slamming it closed. Before she did, she spun, her glorious hair and her lively skirts flaring with the movement.

  “You only had to say so,” she snapped. Then she slammed the door.

  Yes, he thought with a mental sigh as he leaned back against the wall to wait and breathed deeply of her lingering scent. But then I would not have gotten to touch you.

  In the center of Gabriel’s impressive home was a large, grassy courtyard. Open to the elements because it had no roof but surrounded on all sides by the high castle walls, it was the ultimate training facility. He had a tremendous array of weapons, though no guns or other modern artillery which did not exist on this plane. There were targets for practicing archery and throwing weapons, straw-filled dummies for swordplay, a raised, roped-off section for physical sparring, a sand pit (for what reason Olivia couldn’t even guess) and a wall of what looked like exercise equipment. She marveled over the rows of graduated weights sitting on two levels of wooden stands. They were all made of smooth, polished stone rather than metal.

  As she had before their first flying lesson, she stood between Amber and Skye. Their Gloresti stood a few feet behind them. Ini-herit was off to the side, observing. And in front of them stood the largest Estilorian of them all.

  Uriel was the Waresti elder. About twenty-five human years in appearance, he wore his dark hair cut short and was dressed in a black tank top with matching pants and boots. The planes of his face could have been lasered out of rock. So could his many muscles, for that matter. Those muscles were liberally decorated with burnt-orange markings similar to Ini-herit’s silver ones. James had told her that the markings formed whenever a Waresti killed a Mercesti in defense of another. Olivia was certain Uriel was at least seven feet tall. She truly thought her head would top out at his breastbone, but she was too nervous to approach him to prove her theory. His odd, burnt-orange eyes scoured over each of them.

  She struggled not to squirm under his obvious scrutiny. She could all but hear his thoughts. Looking at Amber, who was dressed in a black tank and her favored military-style-looking khaki pants and black boots, her beautifully toned arms crossed over her chest as if daring someone to approach and her gold eyes gleaming in challenge, he would surely find approval. She was by far the most physically strong and skilled in the ways of combat of the three sisters. After years of karate, kickboxing and other aerobic activities on the human plane—not to mention the continued routines she practiced every evening with Gabriel’s assistance on this plane—Amber was ready to do battle.

  Likewise with Skye, he would certainly note the effect that years of dancing had made on the youngest sister’s physique. She exuded grace and balance and had legs that wouldn’t quit. Her gaze was forthright and almost as challenging as Amber’s, if not nearly so knowing and cynical. Sure, she didn’t make quite the physical challenge as Amber, but still.

  And then there was her, Olivia mused, trying not to wince. Not having done much at all along the way of physical activity on the human plane, she was by far the weakest of all of them. Her pursuits had been dedicated to education and learning. The most exercise she had gotten was walking to school every day. And she hadn’t exactly made a point of trying to adjust that since coming over to this plane, she acknowledged now. Climbing trees and walking through the woods hardly qualified as physical exertion.

  Still, when Uriel looked at her and said, “This one needs a lot of work,” she thought she would simply die of embarrassment.

  “Yeah, well, we all need to work on something,” Amber said loyally. “I suck at flying and can’t generate those stupid balls of light.”

  Skye giggled and added, “Oh—and I drive Caleb nuts because I can’t focus on anything.”

  Uriel said in his level voice, “I am not here to teach you about faith or control. I am here to teach you about strength and confidence.” Again, his gaze settled on Olivia.

  She sighed. “Okay, okay. I know I have a lot to learn. I’m ready and willing to learn it. So instead of singling me out and making me uncomfortable and feeling badly about myself, why don’t we get on with the lesson so that I can get where I need to be?”

  Raising an eyebrow, he crossed his arms and stared at her. When she simply stared back and then crossed her own arms over her chest, he nodded. “I see we have more confidence here than I thought. Excellent. We can get started.”

  It was more fascinating than Olivia thought it would be. Uriel introduced them to every weapon in Gabriel’s arsenal. There were long swords, short swords, daggers and every kind of blade in between. There were throwing stars and darts and similar weapons, and at least four different kinds of bows. There were maces, axes, lances, spears and pikes. She was fully convinced that Gabriel owned every kind of weapon invented before guns.

  “I thought we were learning about defense,” Skye said as she tentatively ran her fingertip over the spiked tip of a mace. “Why are we learning about all of these weapons?”

  “A sound question,” Uriel said with approval in his voice. “Offense and defense are very interrelated. After all, you must know what you are defending yourselves against, do you not?”

  Seeing their agreement, he added, “You will each need to learn these weapons and their purposes. You will need to become familiar with their weights and balances and the ways each of them work. Only by doing so will you be fully prepared to defend yourselves against them.

  “But first,” he continued, and stared right at Olivia, “you must grow strong
enough to wield them.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “The bo is a deceptively simple weapon,” Uriel intoned as Gabriel stood nearby running through a demonstration routine with the staff weapon. “It can be used to defend as well as to attack…”

  Olivia blinked in a vain attempt to clear the utter exhaustion from her eyes. She had lost track of how many early mornings she had spent sitting on the grass in Gabriel’s courtyard watching lessons about one type of weapon or another. Although she was the most avid student she knew, after the first couple of weeks of these lessons, she had begun to absolutely hate the first caveperson who had ever picked up a club to use it against someone. How could there possibly be so many weapons and purposes to use them? Would the world never be at peace?

  Time grew into one long blur. Days flowed ceaselessly into each other. Their lessons ran the gamut through nearly every type and subtype of weapon. She was fairly certain that they had even discussed the aforementioned caveperson’s club the week before.

  At the conclusion of Uriel’s lesson, they would move into their exercise routines. Uriel had designed regimens specific to each of the sisters’ abilities, needs and ultimate focuses. They lifted weights, did body sculpting and cardio exercises, and, because Knorbis, the Wymzesti elder, had joined them within days of their arrival at Gabriel’s, engaged in meditative tai chi. Once they were done with that, they learned hand-to-hand combat techniques and then they each practiced with the particular weapon being introduced to them that day. Training for some of the weapons—the ones that they were told many of the Mercesti used—stretched into more than one day.

  She was depressingly abysmal with nearly all of them. She watched daily as Amber excelled, lifting each new weapon with some kind of innate knowledge about how it worked. Her elder sister seemed to thrive brilliantly off the challenge as she learned the weapons introduced to them. Even Skye, who Olivia lovingly thought of as flighty, managed to hold her own when it came to weapon-play. Sure, the reason for that was Skye’s natural grace and ability to evade, but it was still remarkably better than Olivia’s consistent awkwardness and failure to successfully wield a weapon.

  Until she finally shot an arrow from her bow.

  At the conclusion of the Becoming ceremony, each of the girls had been presented with gifts created specifically for each of them by the Estilorian elders. Amber had received a blessed sword, Skye had immediately known how to command holy light and Olivia had been given a bow and a quiver of arrows. Her first reaction had been disbelief and dismay. Who in the world besides Olympians and hunting enthusiasts really used such a thing? And why would this be the gift given to her, someone who spent her time dedicated to books and learning?

  When Uriel began the first archery lesson, she had been filled with dread. She was intelligent enough to reason that if she had been given a bow by the elders, she would be expected to use it, much as her sisters had already used their gifts. After her consistent struggles to wield other weapons to that point, she couldn’t help but worry she would disappoint everyone when she used her bow, including herself.

  To add to her concern, as Uriel had taught them all about the basic properties and uses of a composite bow, her entire body had radiated with pain from the daily weight and exercise routines. No matter how much she told herself to push through it and mirror her sisters in strength and poise, she couldn’t deny that every day was filled with miserable, excruciating physical agony. Even the pain from the attack of the kragen seemed mild now compared to this. How was she possibly going to hold her aching arms steady enough to shoot?

  Uriel had led them all out to the range at the conclusion of their lesson about the weapon and then their exercise routines. She had worn her elder-designed bow and quiver of arrows, as she had been instructed to the day before. Amber and Skye had each been given a bow out of Gabriel’s inventory so they could try them out. James had stood behind Olivia for her lesson, as Gabriel and Caleb stood behind Amber and Skye.

  As she had struggled to ignore her pain and focus on the target many feet away, James had pressed himself against her back. “This weapon is about focus,” he said almost directly into her ear. The feeling of his breath against her neck made her entire body tingle and flush with heat.

  “Okay,” she whispered, no longer concerned about her pain and thinking solely about his muscular arms, which reached around her and helped her guide the bow into position.

  “Precision is of the utmost importance in archery,” he continued as he carefully guided her hands and arms into alignment, completely unaware of the effect he was having on her. “You must think only of the target. You can use an arrow to warn, disarm or to kill. Above all others, this weapon most suits you.”

  And then, she had pushed aside her unexpected and intense physical reaction to him and had considered his words. He was implying that she would have as much control over this weapon as her sisters had over other weapons, something that meant a lot to her. If she mastered even just this one weapon, she would no longer be completely helpless or feel like a failure.

  He showed her how to nock an arrow and then stepped back. It had seemed so simple to her. Just lift the bow, line up the arrow and release. What was the big deal?

  She hit the dead center of the bulls-eye on her first attempt.

  “Holy cow!” Skye had exclaimed.

  Olivia realized then that everyone had been watching her. It had both embarrassed her and boosted her confidence to see the approval on everyone’s faces. James had held up a hand so that she could give him a high five, such a human action that it made her laugh.

  They later discovered that she never missed her target. Although her custom bow was enhanced in its accuracy (only for her, she also learned), she tried her hand at every bow in Gabriel’s arsenal. With absolute consistency, she was able to hit whatever she aimed for. They moved the targets further and further from her to see just how far her accuracy extended. They found that if she could see it, she could hit it. Somehow, she could calculate distance, trajectory and wind shear in a blink. Instinct guided her. She could also shoot with equal skill using either her right or left hand.

  Uriel was so impressed that he gifted her with a pair of special bracers for her forearms and a matching leather finger tab. Meant to protect her arms while she was shooting, the bracers were made of thick brown leather and had been ornamented on the outer curves with meticulously-crafted metal medallions. The unique color of the metal—almost white in its luminosity—told her it was the same metal as whatever had been used to forge Amber’s blessed sword. In the center of each medallion were light-green triangular gems that resembled arrowheads. Knorbis explained that the etchings on the medallions represented focus and accuracy.

  Amber and Skye had each declared that she looked seriously fierce with her new adornments. Olivia didn’t think that she had ever felt so proud of herself.

  Unfortunately, they couldn’t practice archery forever. Although she was required to spend at least an hour every day focusing on her bow, just as Amber practiced with her sword and Skye worked with Knorbis on controlling her innate energy, they spent most of their time building up their strength, getting as physically fit as possible and learning about weaponry and defending themselves.

  Now, Olivia struggled not to groan as Uriel concluded his overview of the bo staff and dismissed them to begin their weightlifting routines. Accepting James’ extended hand, she winced as he pulled her to her feet and she felt her muscles twinge.

  It was going to be another long day.

  As he did every day, James supervised Olivia’s routine at the conclusion of Uriel’s lesson. He noticed her pained expression when he helped her to her feet. It concerned him. Even after all these weeks, he knew her muscles ached almost constantly. This was, of course, because as soon as she was able to lift a certain weight with some semblance of ease, Uriel started her on the next highest weight. James knew that she and her sisters all thought the Waresti elder was a bit masochistic.
And he had lent credence to this image when he had forbidden Amber from the start to heal any of them to relieve their pain. He believed it would nullify the effects of their exercise.

  After the bo lesson, the sisters completed their sets with the weights and moved into their cardio. Today that meant jogging around the courtyard for thirty minutes. Once that and their body sculpting exercises were done, it was time for tai chi with Knorbis. The Wymzesti elder included a highly meditative element to the routine, explaining that the sisters would need to strengthen their internal focus to effectively defend themselves against Mercesti with mental powers. As Skye had learned after the Becoming ceremony when Layla had put her to sleep with one command, they could leave themselves highly vulnerable if they did not learn this particular kind of defense. The Orculesti, Malukali, would also be teaching them some techniques for this when she was available.

  At the conclusion of tai chi, the girls had a short break to drink some water and try to cool off a bit. James stood in the middle of the courtyard with Caleb, waiting for them to get rested enough to begin the next activities. Gabriel conversed with Uriel, Ini-herit and Knorbis a few feet away.

  “They do not smile as much as they once did,” Caleb said in a low voice.

  James followed his companion’s gaze. The sisters were sitting on the ground in the shade near the wall in various poses of respite. All of their faces were flushed from their recent efforts. Sweat covered them, leaving their skin covered in a sheen. Amber sat propped against the wall with her eyes closed and her arms held loosely at her sides. Skye had her legs folded under her and was bent completely in half, her entire upper body resting against her legs and arms. Olivia was also propped against the wall and was drinking from a cup. When she finished the water and put the cup to the side, he watched her grimace as she tried to stretch the soreness away.