Chapter 21 Sparring #2
“Right. So who did arrange it?” I asked. “It wasn’t the Headmaster, was it?”
Bones’s expression grew impatient, even annoyed.
It was an expression I was much more used to seeing on him, especially aimed at me.
The problem was, any number of things could have caused it, including sheer irritation at me having the gall to interrupt his planned lesson, not once but twice, and after he’d already shown himself to be patient with answering the bare minimum of what I’d asked.
“It was Forsooth,” he said, after what appeared to be an internal battle of some kind. “He called me into his office yesterday evening and asked if I’d be willing to train you, given the problems you’ve been experiencing.”
“Forsooth asked you?” I asked, bewildered. “And you said yes?”
It was Bones who scoffed at me that time.
“Of course I said yes,” he retorted. “Just how many times do you think you’ll survive people trying to kill you before one of them gets lucky? What if I’m too far away next time? What if I’d been a few minutes later than I was last year?”
When I didn’t have an answer for that, he exhaled, hands on his hips.
“I said I’d do it, but only if they let me do it my way,” he said, his voice back to that flatter, more patient tone.
“That means only the practical side of forms, and little to no technique testing. I wasn’t going to prioritize any of the points or positioning bullshit.
I said I’d make sure you knew enough to pass your exams and rank at least at the bare levels of proficiency in the areas where they test, but that I intended to focus the vast majority of my time with you on sparring, including hand-to-hand, defensive magic, diversionary attacks, and evasion.
I may not have mentioned poisons specifically, but given your track record, I’d hope it was implied. ”
“So you’re going to poison me?” I asked, back to incredulous.
“Yes. At some point.” He snorted at whatever look came to my face. “Eye of Ra, Shadow. I’ll have antidotes handy.” He smirked. “For the lethal ones, anyway.”
At my blank stare, he shrugged, adjusting one of his wraps.
“Forsooth agreed with me, incidentally. But then, I don’t suppose he’s particularly invested in the fight ranking rubbish, either. Or fighting in general. I doubt he has much need of it, given who he is.”
I swallowed. Forsooth intervened to pull Bones further into my life?
Again?
I was tempted to ask Bones what he thought about that, but I didn’t.
“Oh,” Bones reached into a back pocket of his fitted workout trousers and pulled out a piece of parchment, unsealed.
He walked up and handed it over to me casually.
“I was going to wait until we were finished, but since you have questions now, and I’d rather you not be distracted… he asked me to give you this.”
Even more baffled, I took the letter from his fingers.
I unfolded the parchment clumsily with my wrapped hands.
The note had been folded over twice. It hadn’t been rolled up, and was completely unsealed by wax or even by magic. Bones could have easily read it and likely had.
Clearly Forsooth hadn’t cared much whether he did.
There was no greeting, just two paragraphs of precise handwriting.
I would like to formally invite you to the meeting I told you about, Ms. Shadow.
As this month’s has unfortunately been canceled, the next one will not take place until November 11th, eight o’clock in the evening, at the top of the Northeast Tower.
I apologize for the long wait, but I hope this will give you plenty of time to organize your schedule so you can attend.
Unfortunately, due to the delicate positions of many attendees, and the frequent events of the wider world, we often struggle to all come together at the same day and time.
Oh, and I do hope you don’t mind these new arrangements for your offensive and defensive magical education.
This offered a seemingly ideal solution in my view, as Mr. Bones strikes me as quite a practical and level-headed young man when it comes to such things.
He was thankfully very agreeable about taking the position when I approached him on Sunday.
However, if you have a different proposition to accomplish this task, one you would prefer for whatever reason, let me know when I see you next, and we’ll discuss that, too.
I frowned, looking up at Bones. I hesitated, then just went ahead and asked.
“Why do you think he’s done this?” I studied his face. “Why would Forsooth want us working together like this?”
Bones’s stare flattened.
“You must have a theory,” I said. “You always have a theory, Bones––”
“Yet I’m not entirely clear on why you’d care to hear it,” he said, a touch of coldness in his voice. “When you would obviously need to ask him that question.”
I stared at him a moment longer. Sighing, I gave up and shoved the note in my pocket. I took a few steps back and made my body loose.
“What do you want me to do?” I asked. “Just pretend I’m sparring with Alaric?”
His jaw visibly ticked. “Just how much sparring did the two of you do together?”
“Most days last summer, after I got back to London.”
“Which was when?”
“Last two weeks of July?” I said, thinking. “So about two months?”
“Where were you before that?” he asked.
I tilted my head, puzzled, but I answered him before I’d really thought about whether I should. “California,” I said. “For about ten days. Then Paris and the Riviera with Jolie.”
He didn’t answer, but I saw his jaw tick again, right before he nodded absently. He shifted his weight on his feet, then looked up, once more with an empty expression on his face. I saw his eyes on my body, but not quite in focus.
He motioned me forward with his fingers.
“All right.” He quirked an eyebrow. “Let’s see something.”
“Magic?” I was stalling. “Physical?”
“Either. Both. Do whatever feels natural.” His lips twitched, once.
“Only don’t leave your mind open while you decide, or your opponent will read it off you.
Experienced fighters always use the seeing arts.
Pretend you see me as an immediate threat to your life.
Pretend you’ve only got a second to make a decision on how best to get away from me. ”
I gave a low snort, but it came out more like a choking sound.
“Fantastic,” I said.
“Come on, Shadow,” he said, clearly growing impatient when I still hadn’t done anything. “I spar with Alec, too. Greythorne would have pulverized you by now.”
He was right. Alaric would have.
Alaric always managed to make it seem funny, though.
We laughed while we sparred. So why did this feel so deadly serious?
I felt for my sun primal, foregoing the monocerus, if only to save that tiny increment of time.
My adrenaline already had me nearly shaking, sure I was about to get flung into a wall at the speed of your average bullet.
I took a breath.
“Andham kartum.”
I murmured the cast near-silently, sliding my hands into shunya mudra as I pointed the spell at his eyes.
Speaking casts under my breath was another thing I’d learned from Alaric, especially with longer casts, which tended to include anything in Sanskrit.
Alaric spoke his too softly for me to hear, and without moving his mouth enough for me to see it, either.
With Bones, I didn’t wait to see if the blinding spell took. I ran at him, throwing a right cross he easily slid back and away from, while barely moving his upper body. I kicked down and at an angle with my right heel, aiming it at the side of his knee.
He slid easily out of the way of that, too.
He moved so fast, yet so minimally, I scarcely understood how I’d missed him.
So much for the blinding spell. I hadn’t even seen him block it.
My foot landed hard on the mat, and I twisted into a back-fist with my left hand, following the weight and momentum of my body.
It was one of the tricks I’d learned in the self-defense classes at my Overworlder school, not to mention online videos and anything else I could find once I got stuck in that boarding school in Winchester.
Unfortunately, I was flat on my face on the mat, sucking in the smell of cotton and sweat, before I’d completed the turn.
He hadn’t thrown me hard.
I wasn’t even entirely sure he’d used his hand.
The whole thing had lasted maybe four seconds.
“Interesting,” he said, his voice maddeningly casual.
I glanced up, and was shocked to realize his eyes were completely white.
I had hit him with the blinding spell, so either it got past his defenses, or he’d let me do it.
It just hadn’t made a single bit of difference.
Bones slid a hand in front of his face, murmured a counter-curse, and his irises shimmered back to gold.
“But how did you––” I began.
“Blinding spells won’t do much to a trained fighter,” he explained.
“They might lose their physical vision temporarily, but if they’re any good at all, they can still see with their primal.
It’s fine to try it on someone you’re reasonably confident is a shit caster, but not for any fight where you don’t know your opponent’s abilities. ”
When I just lay there, sucking air, his voice grew impatient.
“Get up,” he said. “Try again, Shadow.”
I pulled myself shakily to my feet.
My face felt hot, and now I was the one avoiding his eyes.
“Balah,” I whispered, shoving my hands straight out in the correct mudra. I threw more of myself behind it that time, but I didn’t even see him cast the counter-spell. I just saw his hand twitch before the spell ricocheted off the wall, making it shudder.
One of the lanterns swung wildly on its hook.
“You’re holding back,” he said, his voice now openly irritated. “I didn’t think I’d actually have to tell you not to do that.”
“Crus levare,” I hissed, flicking my whole arm sideways to aim the mudra at his leg.
Again, he knocked it easily aside.