Page 1 of Warrior of the Wild
CHAPTER
1
An ax swings for my head.
The dull training weapon may not be enough to decapitate me, but I know all too well the sharp sting of metal on skin.
I duck.
A whoosh of air sails over my head, and while I’m still crouched, I thrust my ax straight out so the blunt tips of the double heads whack right into Torrin’s armor-clad stomach.
He lets out a sad breath of air. “Dead again.”
Ignoring the instinct to correct his form, I opt for a quick “Sorry,” as he rubs at the spot where I struck him.
He grins at me. “If I had a problem, I would find a different sparring partner.”
That smile of his sets my stomach to fluttering. It gets more and more charming every day.
But shame spreads through me when Torrin’s eyes raise to my hair. He hasn’t said anything about it, and I’m in no hurry to offer an explanation for its shorter length. Thankfully, Master Burkin strides over to us, saving me.
“Well done, Rasmira,” he says. Then to Torrin, “You’re too slow on the recovery. Unless getting eviscerated was your intention?”
A look of annoyance flashes over Torrin’s face, but it disappears as quickly as it comes. “Maybe it was, Master Burkin.”
“And maybe you’ll fail your trial tomorrow. This is the last day for me to shove any more training into your thick skull. Let’s pair Rasmira up with another boy so you can watch.”
Being put on display is the last thing I want. It separates me even more from the rest of the trainees. I already receive more attention, receive the highest marks. It’s as if my instructor, my father, and everyone else aretryingto make life harder for me.
Burkin searches through the other pairs practicing in the training house. “How about…”
Not Havard. Not Havard. Not Havard.
“Havard!” Burkin calls on the second-highest rank in our training group. “Come pair with Rasmira so Torrin can observe how to properly recover from his own swing.”
“I knowhowto recover,” Torrin says defensively. “Rasmira is just fast.”
“The ziken are fast, too,” Burkin says, “and they will not have blunt claws for weapons. Now watch.”
I’ve spoken to my father about Burkin belittling the other students in order to raise me up. Complained profusely.
Nothing has changed.
So I’m forced to face off with Havard. He’s the biggest boy I’ve ever seen, with a scowl across his lips to heighten the effect.
No one ever did like being second best.
Then again, perhaps no one ever hated being first more than I.
I swing for Havard’s head, just as Master Burkin wants. Havard ducks and thrusts out with his ax just as I did before. With the same momentum of my initial swing, I curve my blades around, effectively blocking the jab toward my stomach.
“Perfect,” Burkin says. “Now step it up, Torrin. Else tomorrow will be the last day any of us sees you alive.”
And with that, Burkin stomps off to find other students to nag.
“Doesn’t he realize how hard it is to take this seriously when it’s the last day of training?” Torrin asks.
I’m about to respond, when a blur streaks toward me out of the corner of my eye.
