After ten more tries Dahlia stepped back, flung down the Sharpies, tore off the blindfold and spun around to find him. Church was directly behind her. His boiler suit was unmarked.

“This is bullshit,” snarled Dahlia.

“No,” he said, “it’s not. You’re getting better.”

She glared around. Eighteen members of her Pack sat in cross-legged silence around the edges of the clearing. A few were smiling, but no one was openly jeering. Neeko even gave her an encouraging nod.

“I can’t do this,” snapped Dahlia. “No one can. It’s stupid.”

Church’s face was hard to read, she’d learned that much over the last few days, but did she just see a flicker of something cross his mouth? A tightening, like a small wince? Was that disappointment or irritation? Or both?

Dahlia bent and scooped up the markers and held them out to the old man. “Okay, Yoda, you’re big on asking us to do these dumb exercises and play your silly games, but why don’t you show us how to do it . . . if it’s even possible at all.”

If she expected him to throw that back at her, she was wrong. Church nodded. “That is a reasonable request.” Then he added, perhaps a little unkindly, “One you should have asked before now.”

He waited while Dahlia pulled on a boiler suit, then allowed her to tie the blindfold around his head.

“Satisfy yourself that I can’t see,” suggested Church. “Otherwise this has no value.”

She tied it tight and peered at it until she was sure. The gathered members of her Pack exchanged some looks. More of them were smiling now, though she couldn’t tell if they were happy that the old man was going to get schooled, or because they thought Dahlia was setting herself up. Maybe a little of both.

The old man rolled the markers between his fingers and then shifted his grip so that they were more like scalpels in a surgeon’s hands than combat knives.

“Whenever you’re comfortable,” he said.

Dahlia began moving around him, creeping with utmost stealth. The boiler suit made soft noises, but she turned to Neeko and mimed clapping her hands. He grinned and began clapping with a rhythmic beat. The others joined in slowly, but soon everyone was smacking their hands together and the clearing was filled with so much noise that any rustle of the boiler suit was completely buried.

Dahlia leaned far over and tapped Church on the right rear shoulder blade.

She never saw the move he made. It was a blur and when he stepped back there was a blue mark on her stomach.

The clapping paused for a moment as everyone gaped.

“Don’t stop,” she roared at them, and the clapping was renewed with increased fervor. She moved and touched. He moved and marked her.

Over and over again.