The Fabric of Chaos (Curse of the Cyren Queen Book 3) by Scheuerer Helen

Author:Scheuerer, Helen [Scheuerer, Helen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: %Fantasy
Amazon: B09KRZ8B6B
Goodreads: 59666741
Publisher: Alchemy
Published: 2022-04-21T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The next day, Roh visited the teerah-panther enclosure again. She didn’t know for which reason: to rid herself of thoughts of the half-naked Jaktaren or to figure out how to obtain the Willow’s Sapphire. She sat before the scratched glass, watching the enraged beast within stalk up and down, the gem gleaming in its gold collar, taunting her.

‘If you’re just going to sit here and mope, you may as well train,’ Yrsa said from the doorway.

Roh noted the determined gleam in her friend’s eyes.

‘We can do hand-to-hand combat and self-defence down here,’ Yrsa said. ‘And there’s a clearing by the gorge that would make a decent sling-practice spot. But I’ll not allow you to lose the skills you gained in Akoris.’

‘Yrsa …’ Roh started reluctantly.

But Yrsa shook her head. ‘You must always be ready for anything. Learning, bettering yourself, it never stops. As future queen, you should strive for that.’

Roh motioned to the enclosure. ‘In order to be queen, I need to deal with this first.’

‘And you will,’ Yrsa countered. ‘But staring at the glass won’t do you any good. You need to move, you need to get your blood pumping.’

Grudgingly, Roh got to her feet. ‘You’re a Jaktaren through and through, aren’t you?’

Yrsa grinned. ‘I like to think so. Now, feet apart, fists up. Let’s go.’

Roh hated to admit it, but Yrsa was right. It was good to get her body moving, to draw herself out of her shell and relish the physical contact of blocking blows and sidestepping attacks. Yrsa ran through several drills and exercises with her, each harder and faster than the last.

‘Good!’ the Jaktaren exclaimed as Roh successfully dodged a punch to the kidney and returned the attack with an elbow to Yrsa’s face, which she blocked easily, of course. ‘Again.’

Roh’s shirt was damp with sweat and she tried to stay light on her feet as they circled each other.

‘Don’t wait for me to attack, don’t hesitate,’ Yrsa encouraged.

Roh lunged for her, feinting a blow left and swinging right.

‘Good!’ Yrsa beamed.

Roh mopped her brow with the sleeve of her shirt. ‘Who taught you all this, anyway?’ she panted.

‘You know we go through numerous stages of training,’ Yrsa said, pausing to let Roh catch her breath. ‘But it was my aunt who really instilled in me the importance of constant practice, constant improvement.’

‘The same aunt who taught you the sling?’

‘The very one. Aunt Winslow.’

Roh was grateful that Yrsa had the foresight to bring a canteen of water with her. She passed it to Roh, who took several large gulps, the cold liquid sliding down her parched throat.

‘I’ve been meaning to ask you for ages,’ Roh said, handing the canteen back. ‘Why were you raised by your aunt? Where are your parents?’

Yrsa took a measured sip. ‘They died when I was young.’

A pang of pain hit Roh’s gut. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘I was only three, so I don’t remember much of them. It was an accident. They were overseeing a remodel of the music theatre and part of it collapsed.

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