CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 20

AUREN

The Grotto’s cave holds moresecret crevices than I first realized.

Because here we are, inside of one, in what Judd fondly calls the Teeth. Judd and I squeezed through a serrated fissure from the main cave’s walls, and after a short, albeit very claustrophobic passage, it opened up into a new room—the place where the Wrath come to train.

It’s not overly large, but it has plenty of space, and the veins of fluorescence that run through the walls and ceiling are so abundant in here that the entire area glows. The ground has been covered with thick layers of half-frozen hay that crunches beneath my shoes, and there are three wooden chests stacked off to the side that Judd told me hold practice weapons.

I’m not allowed to use those yet.

When we first got here, he’d grinned, turning in a circle with his arms up, his normally yellow hair turned luminous blue, right along with his tanned skin and the army leathers hugging his lean body. “Welcome to the Teeth—the mouth of the mountain where you’re going to get chewed up and spat out.”

He sounded excited about it.

On the ceiling above, the stalactites hang in a perfect row—just like razor-sharp teeth ready to do exactly as he claimed.

I was hoping he was exaggerating.

He wasn’t.

I really do feel like I’m getting chewed up in here, though it’s not his fault.

For the first half hour, he simply showed me some stances. Explaining how to hold my weight, how to secure my posture, how to stand, and why.

Simple stuff.

Easy, basic, bare bones knowledge so that I can learn from the ground up.

I first noticed there was a problem when he kept pointing out that I was tilting one way or the other and having to correct my stance. I dismissed it in the beginning. I thought I was still a bit weak and out of shape for all the days spent in bed. I just needed to warm up.

But now, as I pitch to the left again and again, reality lands hard and heavy, like bricks sinking into my gut. I stare at Judd, eyes gone wide, and it feels like my internal temperature plummets, ice filling my tightening veins.

“Gildy?”

His lips move, but I can’t focus enough on his words. Couldn’t hear them anyway with how loudly my heart is pounding.

Judd takes a step forward, blond brows pulling in.

“Water,” I croak out before I totter toward the crates. I pick up one of the skins he brought, lifting the nozzle to my lips and taking a hefty drink as if the ice-cold liquid will help to wash away my realization.

It doesn’t.

I swallow it down, feeling it land in my stomach like I’ve plunged into a lake and too much of it rushed into my mouth.

Judd comes up and takes a sip from his own. “I know this stuff seems rudimentary, but it really is important. Strong, stable footing is the foundation for everything else.”

I glance at him from the corner of my eyes. Does he think all of my struggling and stumbling is due to distraction because I don’t think this is important?

“I trust you,” I tell him honestly. “I know everything you and the others will teach me is what I need to know.”

He nods, but then cocks his head as if he’s reconsidering. “Except maybe Ryatt. He might teach you something just to fuck with you.”

I catch my lips curving. “Good to know.”

“So, why do you want to do this?”

“Train?” I ask with a frown.

“Yep. Rip told me that you wanted to train, but I want you to tell me why.”

Why.

The why has been driving me since the moment I woke. Before that, even. Maybe the why first started solidifying when I met Judd and the others, when I was in that fighting circle with them and realized the possibility of being capable of more.

My eyes flick up to his, meeting his gaze steadily. “My whole life, I have been a thing for other people. A thing for them to have, a thing for them to use.” Stark honesty makes my tone flatter, without any divot or protrusion to hide the plain truth. “But I’m not a thing.”

His normally amused expression has gone sober. “No, you’re not.”

“The next time someone wants to try and use me, control me, I want to be ready. I want to crush those who would keep me under their thumb.”

His hazel eyes glitter with something like pride. “That sounds good to me, Gildy.”

It sounds good to me too.

He takes another polite sip of his water, since I know he’s only drinking because I am. It’s not like he’s expending a lot of energy when I haven’t even gotten past stances.

“Shall we get back to it?”

I nod and set down the water, slipping my hand into my pocket as I follow him back to the middle of the space again. For a moment, I let my fingers brush against the rolled up satin length that’s tucked away before I drag my hand back out again.

“Alright, basic defensive stance. Left foot forward. Push that shoulder back a bit. I want that elbow down in front protecting your midsection.”

I try to follow his every direction for the different stances he barks out, and for a while, I do okay, as if our talk and my determination alone helped steady me. But when it’s time to start moving my body quicker, I falter again.

Embarrassed heat flushes my neck, but I continue to pretend that nothing is amiss.

“Left foot forward, right foot back,” Judd instructs as he circles around me, studying my form. “Good. Now twist—like someone is coming at your back.”

I try. Really, I do.

As soon as I start to spin around, my weight topples, my spine jerking while my feet attempt to correct my movement and keep me upright.

“I’m sorry,” I blurt out with frustration. “Let me try again.”

Judd doesn’t hesitate, nor does he laugh at me. “Your posture is still wrong,” he tells me, coming up to tap my right shoulder. “Straighten out here, and get that heel down.”

I slam my heel into the ground, making sticks of hay split beneath my foot. I shove my shoulders back for the umpteenth time, silently screaming at my body.

“Relax your hands,” Judd says when he notices they’ve curled into fists.

Reluctantly, I release my fingers, shaking out my hands slightly.

Judd cocks his head. “Are you up to this? If your wounds—”

“Nothing is bleeding anymore, and Hojat wrapped me up and said I could do this,” I cut in. “I’m just getting used to these boots. I think they’re too big.”

I’m not sure if he knows I’m feeding him bullshit, but he nods. “Alright, get those feet planted. Good. This time, I want you to move left, raising that arm up in a defensive block. Ready? Three, two, move.”

It doesn’t matter how much I try to keep my feet planted. As soon as I try to do even the simplest maneuver of control, I realize I don’t have any. Just like all the times before, I lose my balance, one of my feet picking up before I can stop it, making me waver.

Judd frowns and looks down at my feet. “Do you want to try it without the boots?”

Frustration bubbles and boils inside of me, the heat of it splashing against my eyes.

“No. Let me try again.”

He hesitates. “Is something wrong?”

“Not at all,” I say with false brightness. “I’m probably just your worst student because I’ve never been trained before.”

“You were bad in the fight circle, but you weren’t this bad.”

I cut him a sharp look. “Thanks a lot.”

“You know what I mean,” he says with a wave of his hand. “Do you want to stop for the night?”

“Just keep telling me the moves.”

Stubbornness rides me, taking me by the reins. It steers my movements, propelling me to try again and again, but even dogged determination doesn’t help. Doesn’t make me balance any better.

My wavering just gets worse, and no amount of trying to hide it or making up stupid lies can excuse it away.

I’m failing.

Day one, and I’m already failing.

And yet, I have to do this. I have to learn how to be strong. But I can’t even fucking turn without teetering and—

Caught up in my growing frustration, I try to pivot too quickly. I’m topsy-turvy, like a spinning top that can’t stay on its point, and this time, my feet can’t catch me.

I crash to the ground on my side, landing hard, the ice-cold hay splintering through my coat and needling my skin. Needling my confidence until it deflates.

I shove up onto my hands and knees, but then I just stay there. Eyes slightly blurred, staring at the broken and dirty hay, the scent of it thick in my nose, the fluorescence dousing it all in blue.

“Fuck.” My whisper is sharp and galled, mind furious with the incapabilities of my body.

“It’s fine, Gildy. We all fall,” Judd says, and somehow, his amicable optimism just makes it worse.

“It’s not alright,” I snap. “I can’t be ready if I can’t even do a fucking stance.”

“Auren.”

My head snaps up at Slade’s voice, and I see him standing just at the entrance of the fissure. Shame crawls up my limbs, and my heart drops at the sight of him. Looking away, I push up to my feet, but even doing that makes me stumble slightly to the right. I’m disoriented. Off-balance. Feeling weak and wobbly like a newborn foal.

I hate it.

Slade’s footsteps crunch over the hay as he comes near until he’s standing right in front of me. “I thought you were going to take it easy until Hojat gave you the go-ahead for more?” he asks, question posed to Judd.

“We are…” Judd’s words trip to a stop.

“He’s not having me do anything difficult,” I admit, my jaw tight with frustration. “I just can’t do it.”

The admittance falls from my lips with disgust. I tear a hand through my hair, fingers getting tangled in the gold strands that fell out of my braid. “This is my first session, and I’m already failing. How pathetic is that?”

“It’s not pathetic.”

I let out an ugly laugh, yanked from the center of my chest. “I can’t even stand,” I spit out, but my tone isn’t directed at him or Judd, it’s directed at me. “Because I keep losing my balance. Because I let him…I let him…”

My words choke off. Strangled, like a fist around my throat.

I let him.

For ten Divine-damned years, I let him.

Let him silence me. Let him lead me. Let him fool me. Let him cage me. Let him hurt me.

I let him drug me and hold me against that cold wall, let him take another part of me that I’ll never get back.

Understanding dawns in Slade’s eyes like mist on a shadowed field. “Your ribbons.”

The two of them trade a look, and I know what’s on their expressions, because it’s on mine too. The recognition of exactly what I lost.

I never noticed before how much my body relied on my ribbons. I have to learn all over again without the comfort of their presence.

But it’s not just that.

The weight of them is gone, yes, but they were more than just satiny strips that hung from my back. I miss the way they trailed behind me. I miss being able to lift them to help me comb my hair or wrap around my waist like a layer of armor. I miss the way they snaked around Slade’s leg.

They caught me. Defended me. They were my instincts. My unconscious impulse and sentiment. They made me more. And without them. I’m less. Less steady, less sure, less free.

You never notice what’s keeping you balanced until you realize you’re not standing straight anymore.

I took my ribbons for granted. For years, I hated them, hid them, tried to pretend that they weren’t a part of me. It wasn’t until I was with Fourth’s army that I even let them truly breathe—let myself breathe. It was just one inhale, but it led to a cacophony of gulping air.

I wonder if this is what it feels like for a bird whose wings have been clipped.

I didn’t comprehend until they were gone just how important they were to me. They were an extension of myself, they were my heart on my sleeve. And now, they’ve been torn away. I’m already trying to cope through my loss, but I never anticipated this other aspect to it.

It’s not just my balance that I lost.

“I let him make me into this, and I didn’t even realize it until it was too late,” I say as fury fills my eyes, red-hot heat raining down my cheek like acid. The ribbon in my pocket feels like it’s taken on the weight of a brick. “How am I supposed to train to become strong if I can’t even stand?”

Slade’s fists tighten at his sides, as if he’s envisioning wringing Midas’s throat. “You’ve had your ribbons for a decade, Auren. It makes sense that you need to adjust to being without them.”

I glare at him. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t placate me. Don’t stand there all confident and encouraging.”

“Would you rather I be doubtful and disparaging?”

Anger rises like a tide, but I push past it and start to walk away. I only make it a couple of steps before Judd appears in front of me. “You think you’re quitting, Gildy?”

“I’m not quitting,” I hiss through my teeth. “I’m just taking a break before I try to punch your kingly army commander.”

He snorts. “As much as I’d like to see that, Hojat gave me strict orders that you’re not to be hitting anything yet, so we’ll save that for another day. In the meantime, you told me you wanted to train, so I’m training you. I’m afraid you’re stuck in the Teeth until I say so.”

“You just asked me if I wanted to stop.”

“Yeah, and you said no.”

A frustrated sigh clatters past my lips. “I can’t even turn around without losing my balance, Judd. How are you going to train me?”

He sweeps an assessing gaze over me. “Well, if you’d have just told me what was going on, I would’ve been able to account for it and rethink my strategy,” he says. “Now that I know you’re having to adjust to the loss of your ribbons, we’ll start out our training a different way.”

“You think that will help?” I ask dubiously.

“Gildy, don’t wound my pride,” he tells me, placing a hand over his heart. “I’m an excellent trainer.”

“Who told you that?”

He frowns. “I’m sure someone’s said it.”

I find myself letting out a bemused laugh. With just a few words, my anger has been replaced with frustration.

“Why didn’t you just say so?” Judd asks me, not with judgment, but curiosity.

My shoulder lifts. “You’re not supposed to admit weakness, right? Even I know that.”

“That’s not a weakness, Gildy,” he says with a shake of his head. “And don’t lie to your trainer. When I ask you what’s wrong, I expect you to tell me the truth.”

I glance over my shoulder, expecting Slade to still be standing there, but he’s now next to the wooden crates off to the side, hip perched against one as he watches us. Just having him in here observing is making my chest tight with tension. He was so proud when I told him I wanted to train. The last thing I wanted was for him to see me flounder.

“Alright, sit your ass down.”

My head snaps back to Judd. “What?”

“You heard me,” he says before plopping down on the ground in front of me.

I follow suit, instantly adjusting when I feel sharp sticks of hay stab through my pants.

“We’re going to start over with some stretching. You’re going to go slow, and you’re going to tell me when certain movements hurt or if you start to feel off-center. Then we’re going to try some positions from here.”

“Sitting down?”

“Yep. You’re going to have to re-learn to balance and move without the help of your ribbons. So for now, I’m keeping you planted on your ass so you can stop psyching yourself out and falling over. Besides, Rip will get all pissy if you’re covered in bruises. Now shut up, stop thinking that you’re failing, and let’s figure this shit out one step at a time.”

My lips pull up. Just like that, I feel the last of the clogged up tension roll off my shoulders. “Are you sure people say you’re a good trainer?”

He shrugs. “I’m paraphrasing.”

Laughing, I shake my head. “Alright. Let’s figure this shit out.”

Judd flashes me a grin. “Thatta girl.”