I thought we'd be on time, but after we'd crossed the courtyard of Lour Castle to the stairwell, descended all five floors of the fortress set into the mountainside, reached the gym at the bottom and changed into our combat robes, we're the last ones to enter. Great. The lesson hasn't even started yet, and Tanvik's already got an excuse to harass Arabella.
"Get in line!" he bellows as we scurry into the cavernous gym, and we obediently fall into place at the end of the row of students, as far from Professor Tanvik as is physically possible. The last echoes of his command still buzz around my ears as I stand with my back against the wall and wait for it to begin.
In theory, Tanvik should not be intimidating. He's a short man in his late fifties, and the gas lamps fixed around the walls are blinding against his bald head. If he wasn't wearing his black, gold-trimmed robes, he'd look like anyone's dad. At his age, it's even possible that his powers have faded to almost nothing. It's his past that scares people; everyone knows he was an assassin and one of the King's personal favourites, but nobody knows how many targets he's eliminated, why the King liked him so much, or even his first name. He just signs letters as "Prof. Tanvik", without an initial or anything. 'Tanvik' probably isn't even his real last name.
At the moment, he's standing with his hands behind his back in the centre of the hall, surveying us like a general inspecting his soldiers. His beady eyes linger on me a little too long, and I try not to flush. I really hope I don't have a leaf stuck in my hair or something. His gaze moves on to Bella, and I can feel her squirm. Luckily, he makes no disparaging comment. For now.
"We are practising hand-to-hand combat today," he barks. "You will spar with the partner I assign you," he adds when people immediately look to their friends—or, in some cases, the weaker students. "Use your mock daggers. You may use the Shadows, but for only three seconds at a time and all hits must be landed in the open. Each match will last for two minutes. The winner will land the most hits in that time. First..." his eyes scan the line of students, looking for his first victims, and they land on me. "Freya Domneva. You will fight..." Another pause, but I'm certain this is just for effect. I'm fully expecting him to make me fight Bella.
"Hestia Ashgate."
Oh. So he's not testing our skills at all, then. There's no reason for him to pit me against Hestia other than to humiliate her. She'll never win a fight against me.
We both step up, and out of the corner of my eye, I can see that Hestia's shoulders are already slumped in defeat. She knows she can't win this, and I know I can without even trying. The only thing that will benefit from this match is Tanvik's ego as he watches his star student pummel someone who can't fight back.
Hestia and I face each other, ten feet apart. I pull my dagger from my belt; Hestia's already holding hers wrong. I could knock it out of her hand easily, if I wanted to.
These are only training daggers, so they won't cause more than a few bruises. They've been been enchanted by Healers so that they can slice easily through the thin curtain separating our world and the Shadows, but are as blunt as a stick against human flesh. We'll get the real things when we graduate.
Even so, it's clear that Hestia is scared, so I decide to go as easy as I can on her without looking lazy.
"Take your stances!" Tanvik booms. Hestia raises her dagger, her position taut and defensive.
I, on the other hand, am in attack mode, poised on the balls of my feet. I close my eyes and open my mind, letting my magic tingle at my fingertips.
"Fight!"
Something brushes my hand, like a feather gliding over my skin. I grab it—the Shadows are being kind to me today. I barely had to look for a way in. I jerk the strand of Shadow up and over my head, and then the whole world is veiled.
Being in the Shadows is like being engulfed in a writhing curtain. You can't fight your way through, or you'll get tangled and lost forever. You just have to relax and become part Shadow yourself.
Three seconds, I remind myself. I sprint forward until I'm on Hestia's left—I can tell she's expecting me to come from the right, and I will not attack her from behind. Above me, something screeches like the bastard child of a sick crow and a cat in heat. Don't look up.
My time is up. I grab a fistful of Shadow and slice, diving back into the world and rolling on my shoulder. I land a blow on Hestia's thigh as I go down, and then three more in the time it takes for her to realise what's happening and leap away. Behind us, the rest of the class counts every hit. I hope I'm not being too rough with her.
Then, when I'm about to slip back into the Shadows to attack from the front, Hestia vanishes.
"Took her long enough to find that strand," someone snorts.
"Yeah, I could see it from here," another girl scoffs. I hope Ardyan is stood at the other end of the line, for their sakes.
"Be silent," Tanvik growls.
I shift into a defensive position. Will Hestia come at me from the front, or from the side? I turn in a slow circle. I don't think she'd attack from behind, but you can't afford to second-guess people in a fight. Maybe she'd attack from below like I did—or maybe that wouldn't even cross her mind.
Three seconds pass. Then five.
"Ashgate!" Tanvik yells. "You are over the three-second limit. This match has been forfeited. Get out of the shadows, now!"
Six seconds.
Seven.
"Should I go in and get her, sir?" someone pipes up.
"No," Tanvik snaps. His brow is creased with worry. If Hestia gave in to the temptation to look up...a chill rattles my spine. She wouldn't do that. We're taught from the cradle that when you're in the Shadows, you must never, ever look up. It will be the last thing you do. They hate to be seen.
The curtain rips behind me, and I let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding.
Hestia slumps to the floor, gasping and shaking and deathly white. Ardyan runs to her side, deaf to Tanvik ordering him to get back in line. I follow suit, kneeling down next to them. With both of us there, maybe Tanvik will leave Hestia alone.
"What happened?" Ardyan asks, rubbing Hestia's back in soothing circles. My stomach lurches. He used to do that to me.
I brush the feeling aside, and lay my hand on her arm in what I hope is a reassuring gesture, considering I've just given her a fair few bruises. "You didn't look up, did you?"
"I...I..." I have to lean in to hear her weak voice. "I couldn't find a strand. There was nothing there."
"Again," adds Tanvik, and I jump. I hadn't heard him materialise behind us.
"I thought I'd be trapped there." Her breathing's slower now, and she leans in to Ardyan's shoulder. He kisses the top of her head, and I have to look away. This is wrong. I have absolutely no right to feel this way, not anymore.
"Rybur, take her to the medical wing," Tanvik orders. "Saethryth!" he barks across the room. "You're sparring next!"
"I'm fine, sir," Hestia protests. She doesn't sound fine.
"You're disrupting my class. Go."
Hestia stands reluctantly, and Ardyan glares at Tanvik as he leads her to the stairwell. Tanvik's just done a good job of cementing Ardyan's hatred of him.
"Get back in line, Domneva," Tanvik mutters. He's lost interest in me now that the fight is over, and he has his sights set on his favourite target.
Arabella.
"Does anybody wish to volunteer to fight Miss Saethryth?" he asks. Nobody moves, and I don't blame them. Even I would hate to have to fight Bella, girlfriend or not.
"Tarani!" Tanvik decides eventually, after a full minute of silence. "You're fighting Saethryth."
The boy, Esdin Tarani, tries to protest, but Tanvik silences him with a look. My heart leaps into my throat. Esdin is like Hestia—his magic is weak, but unlike Hestia, he follows school rules to the letter. We have our suspicions that last spring, when someone stole and read Bella's diary, it was actually him who reported her. Bella's going to beat him to a pulp, now that she thinks she has the chance.
And that's exactly what Tanvik wants.
"Take your stances!"
Both of them mirror each other exactly. Esdin's seen Bella fight before, and he knows she'll fight dirty. Filthy, even, if she thinks she can win.
"Fight!"
To my surprise, it's Esdin who vanishes first. Bella doesn't even try.
"What are you doing?" I hiss, my fists clenched so hard I'll have nail marks for hours.
Esdin barrels out of the Shadows behind Bella, moving with about as much grace as a drunk carthorse. Bella easily slips away from him, grabbing him by the collar and tossing him to the floor.
Oh no.
Bella kneels over Esdin and as the blows rain down on him, the whole class is silent. No cheers, no jeers, only Esdin's grunts and groans of pain. Finally, he gets his arm up and strikes Bella across the face. Blood spatters the stone floor.
"Time!"
The fight grinds to a halt. Bella struggles to her feet, wiping her nose on her sleeve and smearing blood everywhere. With her tufty hair and sallow skin, she looks half wild. I want to run to her, clean the blood up myself, but one glare from her stops me. She's right. We can't risk Tanvik figuring out what's going on right under his nose.
Tanvik glares down at Esdin, who is currently curled into the foetal position and whimpering. Baby. Bella wasn't hitting him that hard, and anyway, the Healers will undo any damage in an instant.
"Can you stand?" he demands.
Esdin only groans in response.
"Saethryth, run three laps of this room. I do not tolerate physical abuse of other students during my lessons."
"But sir, she—" my words die on my lips as Bella shakes her head at me again.
I slump against the wall as she starts her punishment. This isn't fair. Tanvik can't tell us to physically abuse each other and then punish us—or more specifically Bella, because nobody else would have got in trouble for dominating a fight like that—for physically abusing each other.
But Arabella's blood on the floor proves that he can, he will, and he does.