“Oh, so it’s like a game of billiards. It’s all about the bank shots.”

“Okay, another clever point for you. Now, most fights end with someone’s own sword coming back and hitting them. With the right block and a forceful enough stance, you can send most attacks back where they came from. Think of your sword more as a shield. It’s your opponent’s sword that’s your real weapon, and your sword is theirs. Get it? So learn to fear what you’re holding and figure out how to attack with what their wielding. Now, Penny will show you the basic attack angles—the safest ones. They aren’t what you’d think, so pay attention and unlearn your fencing.”

Cole nodded and tried to take the same stance as Penny: feet apart, shoulders square, pretty much the exact posture that would’ve gotten him a beating from Lieutenant Eckers, his old fencing instructor.

“The power is from side to side,” Penny told him. “It’s in your hips.” She moved hers back and forth while Cole watched.

“You’re supposed to try it too,” she said, reaching out and smacking his sword.

“Oh, yeah.” He moved his hips side to side, swinging the wooden stick just like she did.

“It’s a lot like a judo throw, or a good roundhouse. If you don’t get your whole body in on it, you won’t go far.”

“Gotcha,” Cole said, trying to ignore the way her suit hugged her body.

“Give me your best shot.”

Cole’s feet shuffled automatically, trying to get back into a proper fencing stance. Penny lashed out with her sword, which he instinctively blocked. Solidly. The wooden shafts smacked together with a satisfying crack.

Both thighs on his suit lit up, showing him where he would’ve lost them.

“You’ve got no power like that,” Penny said, tapping his hip with her sword. “This isn’t a contest where you score points and gab with your opponent about whose mother smells worse.” She rapped his sword with hers, then tapped him in the stomach. “There’s nothing noble or fun about this, okay? It’s one swing and you’re dead. There isn’t anything heroic about it, and nothing fun or pleasant, even for the winner.”

Cole nodded, resuming his square-on stance. “Have you been in real fights with these?”

“Do I sound like I’m reading from a textbook? Trust me, it isn’t pretty.”

“I’ve seen what they can do,” Cole told her.

“It’s different when you’re the one doing it. Now, there are three major angles you need to learn and two sub angles—they’re your safest attacks and the hardest to parry. Forget thrusts altogether, okay?”