I be up here every afternoon, copying you?â
âGreat.â He grinned. âThen why are you headed for the stairs?â
âUm, you said I could come down to train. Do you want me to come down or not?â she asked. Tristan was strange and infuriating, even if he did make her feel kind of fluttery inside.
He folded his bare arms over his broad chest.âA real slayer wouldnât use the stairs.â
She looked down to the gymnasium floor and shook her head. âItâs at least a twenty-five-foot drop! I canât jump that!â
âTake a look around you,â he said, his voice calm and deep. âWhat can you use to help?â
There was a rope hanging a few feet away from the balcony. It should be a relatively easy jump, but sheâd never tried anything like that before. She had only recently been allowed to walk down a flight of stairs unaccompanied, and had never tried anything where failing had real consequences. She wondered what would happen if she died before she turned sixteen. Would the kingdom be savedâor cursed forever?
âJust concentrate,â he said, breaking her out of her morbid thoughts.
âFocus on the rope, see yourself grabbing it, and donât think about the floor. Itâll take care of itself.â
âThatâs what Iâm worried about.â
âSlayers donât worry. They train, they develop skills, they practice, and then they act.â
Trembling, she nodded. He was right. If she wanted this, it was time to prove it. But to leap for the rope, sheâd have to stand on the railing. She briefly considered whether she could sit on it, but she wouldnât get enough momentum for launching from that position.
She looked down. Tristan looked up at her with calm encouragement on his face. He wasnât prodding or daring, he wasnât teasing or goadingâhe simply nodded encouragement. Confidence flowed into her. She had good balance. She was a good climber. She could jump. She could climb ropes. Sheâd tried all these things over the past two weeks of sneaking into the empty gym. Other than falling, there wasnât one part of this challenge she hadnât done before. The problem was, sheâd never done all those things together.
Pulling courage from deep inside her, she pushed to rest her hips on the railing, then lifted one foot up. After testing the railing with her bare foot and centering herself, she leaned to the side and brought the other foot up.
She wouldnât win any prizes for graceâbalanced in such an awkward side lunge on the railing with her hands holding onto the wood between her legsâbut grace wasnât what this was about. This was about proving to herself she could do it. And if she didnât believe she could do it, how could she possibly convince the schoolâs administration?
She drew her second foot closer, shifting her weight until she was securely in a crouch. Then she raised her hands in front of her, and balancing, she slowly straightened her legs until she was standing on the railing.
âLucy,â a voice came from behind her, âwhat are you doing?â Miss Eleanorâs high heels clacked on the wooden balcony floor, approaching quickly.
âItâs fine!â Tristan yelled up. âSheâs coming down to train.â
âLucy, if you go down there . . .â Miss Eleanorâs voice trailed off, as if sheâd run out of threats. âIf you go down there, I wipe my hands clean of you. I wonât send anyone down to rescue you.â She really had run out of threats. That last one sounded like more of a promise.
It was now or never. Lucette blocked out everything except the rope, and then leaped. Her hands gripped the rough rope, but she slipped, wishing for once she was wearing her gloves. She wrapped her legs and feet around the swinging rope to stop her rapid, hand-burning slide, and then, with her heart racing
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