right hook.
“Hmph,” I grunted as my fist slammed into the bag. “Are they always so intense?”
“Martin says they can be. I guess it’s better than boring. I could have killed Sophia for making me go to those meetings.”
An “I know” almost slipped from my lips, which would have required an explanation, so I simply hummed in agreement.
“I think she did it just so she wouldn’t have to be alone with all of them,” Char continued as she circled me and the punching bag, eyeing my technique as I threw the punches. “They can get . . . intense, as you said. Especially when it comes to the next daughter.”
“So I noticed,” I muttered.
“Now practice with your left,” she said.
I threw what I thought was a left hook. Tristan said it was more of a jab and showed me the correct way, then put me to work, repeating the move.
“I don’t see why they’re so uptight about another daughter,” Charlotte went on. “If Rina and Sophia say it’s going to happen, we need to let it happen when it’s supposed to. Otherwise . . .”
I slowed my moves when she didn’t finish. “Otherwise what?”
She tapped her finger against her lips. “Well, there’s a reason Dorian came by himself, right?”
I stopped my punches and stared at her.
“Charlotte,” I said, “do you know Chandra very well?”
“Sure. I often work under her when I’m in India or the surrounding area. Why?”
“She mentioned something about Dorian not going to the Daemoni.”
Char pressed her lips together and nodded. “Some people want to believe that. In fact, some think he might even be able to lead the Amadis.”
“What?” My eyebrows flew up. I glanced at Tristan, but skepticism darkened his eyes.
“Martin has mentioned it, but I don’t see how. We’ve always been a matriarchal society.” She shrugged. “It’s not my forte, and it’s pointless to speculate. My job, at least for now, is to teach you how to protect yourself. Tristan, let’s show her some kicks.”
After I practiced a variety of kicks, we moved on to combination moves. At first it was exhilarating, even fun, but eventually it became tedious as they made me practice the same moves over and over again. My body, into the rhythm, did everything on its own, while my mind wandered, thinking about Dorian, the council meeting, the “voices,” and what the one said about the girl. Then I thought about Rina and wanting to work with her instead of doing these silly exercises.
“Alexis!” Tristan’s bark snapped me out of it. “Pay attention.”
My mind returned to my surroundings. The punching bag I’d been working with swung violently on its chain, its insides bursting out of a huge hole and all over the floor.
“Did I do that?” I asked, jumping out of its way as it swung toward me.
“Yes! Because you’re not focused.” Tristan’s angry growl bemused me.
“I’m sorry. I’ll fix—”
“The bag’s not a problem,” Charlotte said, her voice much calmer than Tristan’s as she waved her hand. The stuffing and sand sucked back inside the bag, and the hole closed itself. “But your lack of concentration is.”
“Yes, it is a problem,” Tristan said. “You have to focus. When you’re in the middle of a fight, your mind must be one-hundred-percent directed on what you’re doing. You can’t let it wander.”
“But I’m just doing the same hits and kicks over and over—”
“You need to learn the moves. Your muscles must memorize them.”
“Which they seem to be doing very well,” Charlotte added, more kindly than Tristan’s tone, but then her voice became firmer. “But you must be alert and aware at all times, regardless of how mundane the situation seems.”
I shook my shoulders and arms out. “I’m sorry. I’ll focus more.”
Tristan walked away from the punching bags, over to an open area. “Practice on me, not the bags. Maybe then you’ll pay attention.”
“I said I’d focus.” I didn’t understand why he seemed so upset. You’d think the punching bag might suddenly grow arms and fight back when I wasn’t watching.
“I want to see how much strength you’re putting into it.”
I blew at the hair that had escaped my ponytail and fell in my face. “Fine.”
“Do the jab and roundhouse combo,” he said. “Full strength.”
I did the move several times. He could take my full strength, although his balance faltered more than once.
“Good. You could probably knock out a large man with that kick. But you don’t always need to make them unconscious. Sometimes you only want them on the ground. Use less strength.”
So I