CHAPTER NINE
Ceres focused, dodging, weaving, gasping for breath, bruises rising from where the sticks had struck her. Master Isel faced her in the training grounds, and she stared back. As she stood there, she wondered if she had been right to request that he train her again so soon. He had seemed doubtful she was well enough, barely recovered as she was from her injuries. Yet she had insisted, determined to get back out there, to better herself, to be ready for the next match.
To go down in the Stade fighting.
The moment she’d said that she was, Isel had taken Ceres at her word, and had pushed her harder than he’d ever pushed her before. He, too, seemed to know what was at stake.
“Move!” he cried.
Ceres tried to keep up with Master Isel’s instructions as she whirled on the sparring
