“Why? Ye don’ know me from a cat’s guts. So why the void are ye tryin’ to help me?”

“Would you rather I didn’t? Call me a fool, but despite my better instincts, the moment I saw you I thought you were someone who could use a friend.”

“Well I don’ need a friend. Or an acquaintance. Or anyone. I jest need to learn to use my power so I can make those responsible fer my ma’s death pay fer whut they dun.”

“Are you including Sinna in that group?”

“I guess we’ll find out, won’ we?”

With that, Perfidy clambered back up onto the box she’d been using as her training platform. “Maybe we should take a break,” Jereb suggested.

She didn’t look at him. “Feel free,” she said. And then she jumped off.

Long after the shadows had begun to lengthen and the gloom had cast its solemn net over the forest, Perfidy continued training. Trainin’, she thought with a scoff. It didn’t really feel like the right word to describe what she’d been doing for hours now. Jumping. Splatting. Hurting. Getting back up. Doing it again. And again. And again. Whatever magical healing and strength the godsblood had imbued in her had long worn off, leaving her feeling bruised and battered, like she’d gained honest employment as a prize fighter’s punching bag.

She dragged herself to her feet, staggered toward the box and gripped it to steady herself. Tried to heft one leg up but it felt as heavy as an iron cartwheel. Shoved her hand under it and growled, lifting it up. Growling through the pain, she climbed after it, determined to mount the wooden bastard.

She heard the scuff of footsteps and then a hand grabbed her. “Enough,” Jereb said. There was something in his tone she’d never heard before: command. Like he was giving her an order, rather than making one of his usual suggestions.

“Git yer hand offa me,” she barked back, twisting herself free.

He tried to grab her again, but this time, she lashed out with a hand, backhanding him across the face. Her eyes met his, and they both stood there for a moment, stunned.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I jest need to keep tryin’, okay? Don’ try to stop me.”

“Fine. Whatever,” he said. “Break all the bones in your body, see if I care.” He started to walk away.

“Wait.”

He stopped but didn’t turn.

“I want ye to use yer black eagles on me agin.”

“What?” His head cocked slightly to one side, and she could just make out the small frown on his face through the growing darkness.

“Please. Attack me with yer phantazeums. Have ’em pick me up an’ drop me. Force me to rely on survival instincts agin.”

“Why? For what purpose?”

“To prove to myself that I cain do this.”