Page 99 of Tailwind

I staggered back a step and felt a tree root on my heel. I let myself fall, hoping Bach would fall into my trap.

He did. The moment I hit the ground he stood above me, about to strike down, teaching me not to rely on a friendly fight. So I rolled, kicking out at his leg as I scrambled by.

Mercifully, Bach dropped. Not far – only one knee made contact with the dirt. It was enough for an opening though. I spun upwards, using my new height advantage to strike at his back.

The glowing blade made contact with his armour.

I breathed heavily through my mouth. Then my lungs completely emptied in a rush as Bach whipped around and jabbed his axe in the centre of my chest. Again.

Physically and mentally exhausted, I flopped on to a patch of grass among the tree roots and dropped the axe from my hand. The opalescent glow immediately extinguished.

‘You’re giving up now?’ Bach asked. ‘You may have gotten your first hit in, but we’re not done yet.’

I should have been jumping up, ready to go again, surging with victory. I wasn’t. There was a deep pit inside me that was draining my energy. It sucked part of me away every day. The only time I escaped it was when I flew.

‘What’s the point?’ I muttered to myself, but I already knew the depressing answer to my own depressing question.

‘The point,’ Bach replied through the comms that linked us, ‘is to win.’

I lifted my head, grateful that my neck was the first thing I’d strengthened, as the extra weight of the armour was feeling especially heavy today. ‘How can I win if I can’t even compete?’

He scooped up the hilt I’d dropped and threw it at me. ‘Get up.’

I may have been comfortable enough around Bach to complain, but there was no way I would ignore an instruction. Bach said jump, I jumped. Then I jumped ninety-nine more times to prove how good at jumping I was and asked him for his personal record for jumping, even though I already knew.

So, I stood and picked up my axe. The hilt connected with my glove once more and it sprang to life. Just in time for Bach to come in swinging and smash against it with his own.

My feet ground into the dirt as I pushed against him. He had the momentum, the weight and the height advantage. I swept out my leg to trip him, but he spun away before I could make contact.

The pit inside opened wider. I dashed forwards, going on the offensive instead, bashing my axe down again and again and again.

Every swing was met with a deflection, a block or an attack of his own. No matter how many times Bach told me to not take it to heart, no matter how many times Josie pointed out that he had twenty years’ more experience than me, I still felt that sinking feeling worsen.

I swung the axe down, roaring as I did. The glowing blade sliced into the earth, cutting through the tangled vines that had dared to creep away from the trees. I stood there hunched over, still holding the weapon, heaving my breaths.

‘Well, that concludes training for today.’ The light of Bach’s weapon vanished.

‘No,’ I said. ‘Let’s keep going.’

He took off his helmet.

‘I have to keep going.’ I’d acknowledged the dark pit and it had acknowledged me back – my only option was to outrun the feelings it brought.

He shook his head. ‘You need a break.’

I slid up my faceplate. ‘I need to keep going.’

His eyes met mine. Bach’s famous crystal-blue gaze pierced me, seeing to my core. Yet he still asked, ‘Why?’

I felt that yawning vacuum inside me creep bigger and bigger.

‘Because if I can’t do this, then I’m not worthy of being back on the team.’

He scoffed at me. ‘Oh, please.’

‘It’s true!’ He didn’t understand. ‘Martan said it himself – it’s all about value. If I can’t be a good enough rider to offset the debt of being a woman then I’m worthless.’

He walked over and yanked my hand off the axe. The metal haft clattered to the floor.