Chapter 24 #2
“Okay, last thing. You’ll feel the urge to get that crack with your wrist, but in the long run you’ll get more control if you focus on the elbow.
” He demonstrated in slow motion, producing little more than a light snap.
“You see the motion, right? There are times when it’s right to use the wrist, but don’t let it become a crutch. ”
I nodded, glancing sideways at a flash of movement in my peripheral vision.
“Finished up helping with breakfast and wanted to come watch for a bit,” Molly said, swiping her hands on her oil-stained apron.
“You really should consider joining her.” His tone suggested that it hadn’t been the first time they’d discussed the idea.
“Nope. I’ve got my incapacitator if I need it, and I have a feeling I’d just make a fool of myself with the whip. I’m known for many things; beauty, charm, wit…But most certainly not coordination.”
Xander chuckled. “Suit yourself. Maybe you’ll change your mind once you see what we’re up to. You got here just in time for the good part.”
“Don’t let me slow you down.” Her eyes twinkled as she leaned back against the mast and motioning for us to continue.
“Try to follow my movements carefully. My teacher called this the first form,” Xander said. Each step and motion happened as quickly as if he was submerged in molasses, but, somehow, the whip still let out a sharp report every time he cracked it.
There was something calming, almost meditative about the movements as they flowed together. A step to the side, then a swing straight ahead. A step back, with a flourish, then cracking it directly behind his back. And it continued on in that way for well over a minute before he came to a halt.
“You won’t remember the whole thing at first,” he said. “Start with the first third of it, and practice until it becomes muscle memory.”
He took me through it a few more times, isolating just the first third and having me go through the motions with him.
“I think I’m getting it,” I said, having burned each movement into my brain as deeply as I could.
“Excellent. We’ll check back in on it tomorrow morning, so even if you have a few things wrong it’s no harm done.”
“It starts like this, yes?” I showed him the first step.
He nodded, stepping toward Moll and holding out an arm. “But wait one second. There’s one more piece to this. Molly can help.”
She stepped into him, and he pulled her in by the waist, leading her over to a spot a few feet in front of me. There was a casual closeness I hadn’t seen before, and the air between them seemed to buzz with electricity.
It took everything I had to hold back a grin.
I’d never seen this from her before. Not even with her on-again, off-again boyfriend, Stefan the butcher.
I’d never seen her laughing so freely with any man.
She genuinely enjoyed Xander’s company. And, if anyone deserved a little window of joy, it was her.
Poverty had forced her to be extremely pragmatic when it came to dating, looking more for a way out than for a person to spend her life with.
We might be in the middle of a shitstorm but at least that was over now…
For good, if I had anything to say about it.
“You stand here,” he explained, his fingertips lingering on her waist for the briefest of moments before he stepped away.
He moved to my left side, taking a moment to gauge the distance.
“It’s a form for fighting multiple enemies,” he explained.
“Whenever you’re going through the motions, imagine a person in each of these spots.
If you do it like you’re just swinging at air, you’ll just be building bad habits that we’ll have to fix later.
The whip should crack right through your imaginary enemies. Ideally heart, face, or balls.”
I nodded, glancing over at Moll, who seemed too focused on mooning over Xander to even hear what was being said. I held back a laugh, deciding that I’d monopolized enough of his time for the day.
“That makes sense. I, uh… just remembered. I have some cleaning to do. I’ll see you later, alright?”
“Sure. Sounds good.” He glanced over at Moll, then back to me, flashing a quick wave.
I hurried away, hoping I hadn’t made things awkward between them.
Fetch drifted back down to my shoulder as I walked, clicking his beak as he stared down at me. “What’s up, my feathered friend?”
He cawed in that very un-falcon-like way he sometimes did, leaping off my shoulders.
Rather than going back into the sky, he stayed low, leading me toward the back of the ship while circling back a few times to be sure I still followed.
A loud rustling sound came through as I approached the cluster of barrels strapped to the ship’s rear, just barely louder than the whooshing of the waves below.
What the hell was going on? Had some kind of wild animal gotten aboard?
Movement flashed and I held out my whip on instinct, not that I knew how to use the damn thing. But what emerged wasn’t an animal at all.
It was a sweaty, red-faced Garth. Our gazes collided and he went stock still like a possum, as if I wouldn’t see him so long as he didn’t move.
“Fucking hell, Garth! You nearly gave me a heart attack! What are you doing here?”
He stayed frozen in place, visibly cycling through what I could only imagine were a dozen different excuses before settling on one so insufficient, it had to be the truth.
“Well, I wasn’t about to miss out on all the action, was I?”