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    instinct was to turn and run, but Hale was there, shouting instructions, so I did my best to fight back.
    Only, my timing seemed completely off. I’d turn my attention to one, just in time to give the second
    the perfect opening to tag me with a fist. To be fair, Gretchen and Matthew were fighting half-strength
    at best, but facing twice as many fists and feet as I was used to was overwhelming. Each time they
    drove me off the mat, Hale would call a stop to the fight and we’d reset in the center of the room. We
    drilled the same attack and defense over and over and over. Each time I took more punches than I
    gave, and each time I ended up getting driven off the mat. It was demoralizing.
    By the end of the session, my whole body ached and my mind felt like it had been forced through a
    strainer. It was my turn to collapse into a chair. Lucas had a small towel and a bottle of water ready
    for me.
    “I feel like a boxer in the ninth inning,” I groaned.
    Lucas shook his head. “It’s rounds in boxing, not innings. But you did kind of look like a boxer by
    the end there.”
    I was mid-gulp, so I couldn’t laugh in disbelief. Lucas read my expression and shook his head.
    “Look,” he said, pointing. I turned and saw Gretchen and Matthew, leaning against a table, gulping
    down their own waters. “You gave them a workout.”
    Huh. They did look kind of exhausted. I finished the bottle of water and smiled, taking a deep
    breath.
    “You did well, you two,” Hale said, joining us. “Why don’t you rest? We’ll take care of the
    equipment for today.”
    I sank back into my chair, grateful for the break. Lucas and I sat in silence for a few minutes,
    recovering from the grueling session. I finished my water and noticed Lucas eyeing me, as if he
    wanted to ask a question.
    “What?” I prompted.
    “That double step thing Hale had you do—” Lucas said.
    “You want me to show you?”
    Lucas nodded and we walked into the middle of the room. Hale, Gretchen, and Matthew were busy
    rubbing oil into the daggers they’d practiced with before Lucas and I had joined the training session.
    They ignored us.
    “It’d be easier to show you if you attacked first,” I said. Lucas, who’d had a chance to relax and
    recover while I was fighting Gretchen and Matthew, nodded. He attacked as Gretchen had done. I
    blocked him, then caught his arm in one of my fists. “From here, if there were a second opponent,
    you’d reposition your foot like this,” I settled back into a deeper stance and twisted Lucas’s arm,
    turning him on his heel. “Then while the first attacker is recovering, you have a few seconds to deal
    with the second.” I “fought” a second imaginary attacker as Lucas watched, curious.
    “Okay,” he said. “You come after me.”
    I waited for him to raise his hands, then rushed him. Lucas blocked my attack, but when he
    reached to grab my hand and reposition his foot he lost his balance and tripped back, pulling me down
    on top of him. My squeal broke into a peal of laughter as I looked down into Lucas’s chagrined face.
    “You make it look easy,” he said, flushing slightly.
    “Hale,” Thane called from the staircase. Lucas and I froze as Thane descended into view. “Marx is

    asking for details about the accommodations we’ll be able to offer the Guardsmen—” Thane’s voice
    broke off as his eyes found Lucas and me.
    Suddenly self-conscious, I rolled off of Lucas. We got quickly to our feet, but the damage had
    already been done. Gretchen looked over, sizing up the situation in half a second. She walked quickly
    onto the mat, placing herself between Thane and us.
    “You,” Thane hissed, turning on Gretchen. “You’re supposed to be chaperoning them.”
    “It’s fine, Thane,” she started. “They were just sparring.”
    “I have eyes, Ms. Mitchell. And I’m not a fool.”
    “They know the rules, Thane.” She turned to face us, crossing her arms. “Right?”
    I felt my cheeks