didn’t mean to fall.”
“That is why you must learn a different way.”
As swiftly as he’d pounced, he was on his feet again. He held out his hand.
I blinked, scarcely believing the offer. Half expecting a trick, I placed my hand in his. He pulled me onto my feet with easy strength. I blinked again.
Pushing his hair, already drenched from the cold downpour, away from his eyes, he studied me. “Do not go backward. That is why you fall so much. You cannot see where to step. Go sideways. Keep your sight on the hunter. If you turn your back, you will die.”
“Sideways,” I repeated dubiously.
“Sideways.” He gestured at himself. “I will show you. Attack me.”
My cheeks flushed. “How …”
“Do not think, just attack.”
I swallowed my embarrassment, then took a half-hearted step toward him.
“Gh’vrish?” he complained in the exact same tone I would’ve said, “Seriously?” He snapped his tail. “Try harder, drādah.”
He was teaching me something he thought would improve my chances of survival. He was trying to help, and the least I could do was give it my best effort.
I coiled my body, then jumped at him like I was going to tackle him to the ground. He stepped backward and I jumped forward again. He kept stepping backward and I kept going for him.
His heel snagged on the uneven ground. He stumbled, tail snapping, and I crashed into his chest and bounced off. He caught my elbows, pulling me upright.
“You see, drādah?”
I nodded, a bit breathless. “I could just keep charging you. It made it easy to keep attacking.”
He pushed me two steps back. “Now attack again.”
I sprang. He stepped sideways and I flew past him, sliding on the wet moss. When I whirled around, he was four steps away and still moving in a steady sidestep that allowed him to retreat while watching me and his trajectory at the same time.
“Oh,” I muttered.
His lips curved in a pleased smile. “You understand, na?”
“Yes.” I definitely understood that stumbling backward and falling was the most useless reaction to an attack I could possibly have. It was so obvious that I didn’t understand why I hadn’t figured it out myself.
“Now you will practice.”
“Wait.” My eyes widened in alarm. “I’m not ready. What—”
He flashed toward me. I lurched backward—and, of course, tripped and fell. I winced as I hit the ground. Peeking up, I expected him to be scowling angrily.
He was holding his hand out again. Confused, I let him pull me up.
“Try again,” he said.
I braced myself, chanting “step sideways” over and over in my head. He backed up two steps, then vaulted at me. As before, my body automatically lurched in the opposite direction of the incoming attack. I stumbled back while also trying to step sideways. Instead of falling, I just didn’t move and he bowled me over.
As I pitched backward, he scooped me out of the air and set me on my feet.
Embarrassed by my failure, I raked my wet hair off my face. “Again.”
He waited a moment, then charged. I darted sideways and he flashed past. Tail swinging out, he pivoted on one foot and leaped at me again—and I backpedaled in a panic, tripped on the rough terrain, and slammed down on my butt.
“Argh!” I burst out. “Why can’t I do this? It’s simple. It should be easy!”
“Your instincts tell you to go backward.” He crouched beside me. “That is hard to change.”
An odd flutter of confusion disturbed my center. I wouldn’t call his tone kind, but it wasn’t angry, impatient, or insulting.
“Hh’ainun instincts are stupid,” he added. “It is why you are all so easy to kill.”
Ah, there was the insult. Somehow, I felt better. Zylas being patient and considerate was just weird.
We reset our positions, and Zylas mock-charged me again and again while I struggled to override my panicked instinct to retreat backward. It was a slow process. I managed to dart sideways half the time, but as soon as he changed direction and sprang again, my instinctive backpedal took over.
After thirty minutes, I was panting for air and aching all over from falling down so many times. Instead of taking his “pounce” stance, Zylas assessed my fatigued state. He, of course, showed zero signs of weariness.
“You must practice when you cannot see the hunter coming,” he decided.
I warily raised my head.
“You will walk in the trees, and I will hunt you.”
Apprehension zinged through me. “That doesn’t seem like a good idea.”
“Na? Why not?”
I opened my mouth, but admitting his proposal sounded terrifying wouldn’t