Stars of Fortune (The Guardians Trilogy 1)

“Okay, first things first. Make a fist.” When Sasha did, Riley shook her head. “Just as I figured. You keep your thumb up like that, you’re going to—”

“Ow!” Sasha snatched her hand away after Riley bent her thumb back.

“Exactly. Remember that, and keep your thumb folded down. See?” She demonstrated; Sasha mimicked her.

“Thumb down.”

“Always outside, never inside the fist. Okay, punch me.”

“I’m not going to punch you!”

The smirk came quickly. “I can guarantee that. But try. Come on.” She tapped her nose. “Straight in the face or this lesson’s over.”

Irritated, intimidated, Sasha struck out. Riley tipped to the side, and let the halfhearted punch meet air.

“Like you mean it this time. It’s my face, Sash. I can promise you’re not going to hurt me. A little faith here.”

That’s what it came down to, didn’t it? All across the board. A little faith. She punched out again, putting enough into it that when Riley sidestepped, she stumbled forward.

“Okay, see, you’re punching like a girl.”

“I am a girl.”

“Nobody’s a girl in a fight. You’re a fighter. You need to distribute your weight, your balance, and for right now, you’re going to plant your feet. Knees a little soft, but you need to feel solid on the ground.”

Riley circled her. “That’s better. When you punch, don’t throw your body at it, bring the punch out from your shoulder. Lift your shoulder as you extend your arm. No, don’t straighten your legs. The power comes up from your legs, and when you straighten them or lean forward like that, you lose power and balance. Keep your body centered. And exhale on the punch.”

Riley nodded or frowned as she circled, as she ordered Sasha to try it with her left. Left again. Left then right.

“Don’t flap your elbows like chicken wings. The jab’s not sexy maybe like a cross, but it’s your most powerful punch. Defense, offense. It punches, it pushes, and best of all it can distract while—”

She jabbed out at Sasha with her left, followed it with a right cross. Both fists stopped less than an inch from Sasha’s face, and came so fast and hard she lost her breath.

“Didn’t see the right coming, did you?”

“I hardly saw either of them. How many fights have you been in?”

“I don’t keep count. Here.” She held up her gloved hands, palms toward Sasha. “Fist in the palm, like the ball in the glove. Left. Come on, rookie, left! Left. Right. Left. Better. Lead with your knuckles, exhale, lift your shoulder. Concentrate. I want you to rotate your arm. You lift, and as you jab, you rotate. All one motion now. Left!”

Sasha threw jabs until her arms ached.

When she lowered them, Riley poked her. “Come on, you haven’t even broken a sweat yet.” But she reached in the small duffle she’d brought out, handed Sasha a bottle of water. “Hydrate anyway.”

“I thought you’d show me some martial arts, not just have me punch your hands.”

“Baby steps, Sash.”

She opened

the water, drank. “I’ve never actually hit anyone before.”

Riley widened her eyes. “I’d never have guessed.”

“Oh, shut up.” But rolling her aching shoulders, Sasha laughed.

* * *

Bran thought yanking some bloody weeds from the bloody vegetable garden might purge him of the considerable resentment still stuck in his gut. And he’d take some of the herbs and roots while he was about it. He could use them.