The day before my seventeenth birthday Clove marched into the kitchen and slammed a knife down before me. Luckily she placed it flat or I would have been at risk of losing one of my fingers. I prepared to snap at her but froze when I noticed the blade. That smooth black handle. It was the knife I killed him with. I hadn't seen it since the night my father had died and I had absolutely no idea how Clove had gotten it. I had presumed that like the body it had just vanished that night.
Since that night Clove was different. She wasn't frightened anymore. That night it was if she had shaken off her timid little self and in its place stood a more determined girl, angrier, fiercer, colder. Almost every week she got into a fight at either training or school and she refused to take her training at the pace the teachers dictated. She pestered them and me non-stop about weapons, demanding that she get to practice with them. The teachers were almost as exhausted with her as I was.
Sometimes it was frustrating but I was just glad she wasn't scared anymore. Although for the past two months she had relentlessly been pestering me about teaching her how to throw knives. She always tried when I came home from training completely exhausted and aching, or when we were just about to go to sleep, curled up in bed together.
I would always be just drifting off to sleep when I'd feel her giving me a sharp jab with her elbows, knowing what would be coming next.
"Will you teach me tomorrow?"
I'd groan at her damned persistence and bury my face in the pillow, trying to block her out as I sought much needed sleep. She was relentless though most nights, poking me and once even kicking me until I'd open my eyes, snapping at her to shut up and go to sleep. Sometimes that would be enough and I'd hear her muttering under her breath as she reburied herself into the covers next to me, but other nights we'd have to repeat the process several times until I fell asleep too exhausted to keep arguing. Sometimes her little voice pleading, nagging, demanding me would drift into my dreams. "Ena, come on teach me. Tomorrow, Ena. Tomorrow."
She was being tricky, trying to wear me down and get me to say yes when I was most tired and compliant. It hadn't worked yet though.
There was a reason that they didn't teach you weapons skills until you went to Senior Training. It was because, even in District 2, it was considered dangerous for an eight year old to know how to use a knife as a weapon. Well, a normal eight year old. Lately a part of my brain had begun to give in to her demands. Clove wasn't a normal kid. She'd had to defend herself against people much bigger and stronger than her already. She'd fought and she'd won. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad.
Despite my bending conviction as I looked between her and the blade in front of me my heart sank. I hated the idea that she had been storing it away. It was a secret she'd kept from me and I didn't like the idea. We didn't keep anything from each other, or at least nothing like this. I brushed aside my guilty thoughts of all the times I had lied to her when she was younger about where my bruises and such had come from. That was for her own good, before she should have known what our father was truly like. It wasn't the same thing as keeping this from me.
"Clove where did you get this?" I asked in a quiet voice, running my fingertips through the air an inch above the blade. For some reason I didn't want to touch it yet. It was silly though, so I forced myself to lower my fingers and brush them against the metal. It was comfortingly cool and smooth against my skin, but it felt electric, like it sent a jolt up my arm. I withdrew my fingers and sat back, looking at her for an answer.
She shrugged and dropped heavily into the seat next to me. "I kept it," she said simply with an expression that told me she didn't see anything wrong with that.
I inhaled sharply and looked away. I didn't want to ask her for a further explanation because I was certain I didn't want to know. "Clove, I'm not teaching you," I said tiredly. Domitius had increased my training by an extra hour two weeks ago and now I wasn't getting home till 8 most nights. Weekends were the only time I had free and even then I was always exercising and doing my own training. The hard work didn't bother me. Every night when I dropped exhausted into bed I knew that it brought me one step closer to walking into, and out of, that Arena. It was pretty much the only thing I thought about these days.
"En, please," Clove said seriously, setting her dark eyes on me. She looked completely desperate and I knew she must be if she was using the word please. It wasn't something that anyone heard from Clove very often. For better or worse she had learnt all her attitude and manners from Amica's boys. A fierce eight year old who had learnt her attitude from three rough and boisterous older boys was not something to be reckoned with. As I looked at her dubiously I wondered if adding knife skills to that was really a good idea. I shook my head, swatting in frustration at my hair that was for once hanging loose and over my shoulders. "Ena I need this," she pleaded.
I picked up the knife and began to absently dig it into the wooden surface of the table. "Clove you're already doing well at training. You'll learn weapons skill in time, I promise."
"But I can't wait to do it with everyone else. I need this Ena. I need to be prepared for when I go to train like you. I need to be the best at it." I looked at her again, the knife balanced on its point. In her eyes I recognised my own pleading determination. She had the same drive I did, the same thirst to prove herself to everyone. I knew how that felt, to be constantly assumed weaker simply because of her size or her sex or because of who her father had been. I knew how much it hurt, and how that hurt could turn to anger until it was all you wanted, to prove them all wrong. I also knew the feeling of power and adrenalin that could flood your body when you did prove them wrong. There was no comparison among anything else for how good that felt. How could I deny her that?
Picking up the knife I held it out to her, blade towards me. "Okay," I said and she actually smiled. Her whole body picked up, her back straightening instantly. She went to reach for the knife but I spun it around in a blur until the blade was inches from her fingers. She froze and lifted her eyes to mine. "I'll teach you, Clove. But you have to listen to everything I say, understand? Everything."
She nodded slowly, her eyes deadly serious and trained on my face. I nudged the knife forwards and she wrapped her fingers around the handle, her eyes gleaming as she looked at it. I still wasn't sure it was a good idea, but at least this way she would be able to defend herself. That was how I justified it to myself anyway.
"Okay, first of all, stance," I said, walking in a circle around Clove. It was a Saturday afternoon and we had retreated to the woods behind our house. I had several knives slipped into my belt but Clove's hands were empty. She followed me with her eyes as I prowled around her.
"Don't I need a knife?" she asked.
"No," I snapped. "Now shut up and do as I say." She scowled at me and I glared back until she dropped her eyes and shuffled her feet obediently. "Alright. You need to be light on your feet. Bounce on the balls of your feet so you're ready to move at any moment. Never let your guard down and always be prepared."
To her credit she took on every one of my words obediently. I nodded and walked a few meters away, before turning back to her. She was dancing on the balls of her feet, watching me carefully. Good thing she was because next moment I'd sent one of my small knives spinning through the air towards her. Of course, it was never going to hit her, but it was aimed close enough to give her a fright. She dived to the side and was back on her feet a few feet away seconds later, tensed and watching me. I was mildly impressed. "Good. No point handling a knife if you can't dodge one," I said curtly, refusing to let her see that I was pleased with her. "Try again." Before I had finished the words another knife was spinning towards her and just as with the first she had darted away. In her two quick movements she had spun herself almost behind me and as I turned to face her something slammed into me, catapulting me to the ground with a small flying force. She caught me by a half second of surprise but I had learnt to recover quickly and I was twice her size. I had rolled her over and had her pinned beneath me in seconds without even losing my breath. She looked up at me, panting for breath, and grinned wickedly.
"I almost got you," she said happily. Without her noticing I slid a hidden knife from a sheath on my wrist and I took grim delight in the way her eyes widened as I pressed it to her throat.
"Not quite," I breathed, feeling the familiar prickling sensation over my body that came when I had cool metal pressed against skin. The control was intoxicating, even if it was Clove. I licked my dry lips and tried to resist the almost overwhelming urge to press just a little deeper and see that elegant line of blood trail down her pale skin. If this was the training centre I'd have done it by now. The only thing stopping me now was Clove's scattered breath against the side of my arm and her eyes staring up at me. Those eyes were more familiar to me than my own and it was they that made me pull back slightly, releasing the pressure against her throat. Clove didn't seem at all concerned. In fact her eyes were gleaming with unmistakable excitement and I could feel her pulse pounding under my fingertips. She stared at me with wide eyes for a few seconds and I stared back.
"Teach me how to do it. Ena," she whispered reverently. "Teach me how to kill someone."
A/N: Thank you so, so much for the reviews on the last chapter everyone.
One point I'll make to save confusion. Domitius was the only one to stop Enobaria killing Ronan, and he had his reasons. No one else moved to prevent his death. Enobaria said in the last chapter that Ronan's death would not be against the logic of the centre, or even normally against Domitius' own. Summary: killing can and does happen in the training centre.