17. RHYDIAN
17
RHYDIAN
R ieka arrived exactly a minute before the twenty-second hour with a smile on her face. It was unsettling.
“You’ve been happy all evening,” I said as I invited her to the mat. The carriage was empty this time of night. Most sparing was done during the day so I knew we would have privacy regardless of which method of conversation we used.
“Can’t I be pleased to see my husband?” Rieka halted just in front of me, her chin no higher than the middle of my chest. That steady heartbeat was such a contradiction to the storm raging in those grey eyes, just as angry as that day in the camp and just as earth-shattering as that night in Keltjar. She had no intention of making this easy for me.
“Right now Rieka, I am not your husband; I am your trainer.” I stepped back, crossing my arms over my chest.
She threw up her hands in a mocking form of submission. “Certainly. And what does my trainer require of me?”
I considered her appearance. The white strands were tied back in a thick braid that ran the length of her spine. A clear vulnerability. One hard yank by the enemy and she’ll be on her knees. She was still wearing the same clothes she’d had on that day in the woods, the shawl she insisted on using as a blanket wrapped around her chest. I pointed to them. “Take them off.”
Her brows rose.
“I meant, take off all the excess. I need to see how your body works unencumbered.”
She unfasted the shawl at her back and dropped it to the floor. Then did the same for her buckskin vest and blouse . The singlet she wore underneath was paper thin. No wonder she was cold at night. But for training purposes, it would suffice. If I can keep my eyes off her tits long enough to instruct her.
It is not like you haven't seen them before! I swallowed hard, dragging my eyes from her chest to her face where she greeted me with the most self-assured smile, as if to say, "I know what you were thinking."
She lowered her hand to her waistband. “Trousers too, or do I get to keep those on?”
“Just get on the mat.”
She obliged me, refastening her gloves as she moved into the space in front of me, pulling it up just so it covered the black tattoo on her wrist.
“Why do you wear those all the time?”
Her gaze shifted between myself and the exit as if she were afraid someone might hear.
“You and I both know there’s no one in earshot,” I told her.
She fidgeted with the fabric. “Would you believe me if I said I can’t bear to look at it?”
“The mark of The Celestial.” I thought back to the times I’d seen it. “The seven black dots represent the seven-star constellation of the raven. That’s the—”
Her hand slammed over my mouth, snuffing out the words.
“DON’T SAY HIS NAME!” her inner voice shouted desperately as her other begged aloud. “Don’t even think it!”
“Why not?”
Rieka whipped her hand away from my mouth, a look of outrage on her face.
Her answer was pure condemnation, the words snapped out in utter disbelief. “In name I take thee, unto myself I accept your divine mercy. Your name shall follow me wherever I go. Should I call on you in times of need, you shall know where I be, my thoughts are yours. The Prayer of the Celestials. Page one of The Tales of the Nine. ”
She believed they could hear her when she spoke their names. I’d heard such things before. New passengers from Deos or Kensilla who believed as she did, but who soon lost their faith when they came to realise their gods had abandoned them. Rieka was the opposite. It was as though she feared they wouldn’t abandon her.
“Why don’t you get it removed? We have Skin Weavers on board. They could do it.”
Yes, because she wants your help after you forced her into a marriage she didn’t want.
“Are we going to train or not Rhydian, because I’m happy to return to my bed,” she said pointedly. I took that as her signal the topic of conversation was over.
The stances I taught her were simple, each one designed for a different type of opponent. Unfortunately, each time she attempted them, I was forced to reposition her limbs for her when it was evident she had no idea what to do with her body, or how to move it. I suspected she did some of it on purpose, so I would have to make skin-to-skin contact with her. Brutes were a much more tactile group by nature. A part of her plan to seduce me no doubt.
I then tried getting her to memorize the most basic of movements. A punch, a block, a duck. All from a stationary standing position. I’d had to move her thumb so she wouldn’t break it when she punched. Had to show her how to watch to know when to duck, and how to use her arm to block a strike so she wouldn’t snap a wrist. And still, after two hours, nothing had changed. She was just as ill-equipped as when we started.
An uncharacteristic groan escaped me. “All that is steady, Rieka! Do you want to die?”
“Not particularly no.” She picked at the edge of her glove.
“Then why would you half-ass this? I’m trying to keep you alive.”
“Selfishly , ” she reminded me, gazing up with a bored expression.
I wouldn’t dignify that with an answer. She needed to take this seriously. “We can do this the hard way but you won’t like it, Rieka.”
“And what exactly is the hard way, Rhydian.” She made sure I heard the contempt in her voice as she spoke my name. “Please do enlighten me.”
I took up a position about five feet away and faced her. “If you wish it.”
My senses opened to the room, to the drops of blood splattered across the floor that told me all I needed to know about their origin, to the heartbeats of those in The Commons still drinking at the bar, to the stench of death that lingered in MedCom , and to the heartbeat of a most contradictory she-wolf.
I waited three beats until my own heart had synced with hers. Beating as one. Then I moved my hand.
Rieka’s own mirrored the movement and her eyes went wide.
I took a step forward and her body mimicked my own, her features shuddering in shock.
“You thought I was playing a game when I asked you to train. I wasn’t.” I knew instinctively that if it weren’t for my own heart, hers would be in a panic at that moment.
“Death is not a possibility here. It is an inevitability.” I took another step forward and she followed. “Just like the sun rises in the west and sets in the east.”
“Rhydian,” Rieka warned, her voice cold as I made her take another step.
“If you do not learn to fight, you will die.” I took another step. “If you cannot hold your own against a human opponent, how will you ever stand against a Tainted one, who will have no qualms about ripping you open?”
Another step.
“Drowning you with the fluid in your lungs.”
Another step.
“Ripping the air from them.” And another step
“Even the most basic skills have saved people from certain death and you refuse to learn even those.” Another step and those grey pools turned thunderous.
“If you intend on acting like the damsel, I will be forced to protect you the only way I know how.” I stopped inches from her, my breath blowing at the silken stands caressing her brow.
“And you wouldn’t even know when I was doing it if I didn’t want you to.” I reached for that part inside Rieka, that invisible thread in my mind that led me to where I wanted and I created the blockage in hers—in the place Sal’s books called a synaptic junction, and I puppeteered Rieka, her expression vanishing to one void of all emotion.
I made her reach for the dagger she kept hidden in the sheath of her boot. I made her walk towards me, and then as I lifted my hand to her chin, she in turn wielded the dagger to mine.
As I removed the blockage, an act which took no more than half a second, the haze that had filled her eyes fled and her pupils grew round in surprise. They darted between my eyes and the weapon at my throat. An almost imperceptible change flittered across her eyes and I knew what thought had crossed her mind. What she would have done in that split second had I not been in control of her.
I dropped my hand. Hers remained. “Rieka, I cannot lose you.” I will not lose her. “Is that clear?”
The look vanished. “Yes. Now let. Me. Go.”
An inhale, an exhale. And one heartbeat became two and I instantly winced as she pushed upward on the dagger.
Letting her brandish that weapon had been a risk, but I needed her to trust my actions if she refused to trust my words.
I’d never seen eyes so raw, so hurt as Rieka’s were in that moment. Dark shadows lingering like wraiths clouded the grey, muddying it. “You will never do that to me again.” She pressed it in ever so slightly that I doubt even she knew she drew blood. On a scale this minuscule, only a Hemopath could detect it.
The storm in her eyes settled to a gale. “If you do, I will kill you.”
I believed her.
“Am I understood?” For a split second, the Bright-lights caught her eyes, and they shone gold.
“I’d expect nothing less.” Rieka quickly withdrew the black-handled dagger and returned it to her boot. She then retook her original position and waited for instruction.
I’d taken one step towards her when the bell tolled over the train system.
The pit in my stomach that relished these moments opened wide devouring any sense of calm I’d managed to retain in the days since I’d returned.
When the ringing stopped, I waited and counted to ten. Ten seconds. Ten seconds and Rieka would have more time. I would have more time.
On nine her collar lit up a florescent blue.
“What does the light mean?”
I swallowed, refusing to look away from her. “You’ve been drawn for the Hunt.” I could not hide the disappointment in my voice.
“Rhydian, what are my chances?”
A moment ago, I would have said near impossible, but that dagger just raised her odds. Not favourably, but I could work with shitty odds when they were no longer six feet underground.