The tides of war are starting to turn. We are pushing them back. They are falling, stumbling, going down with bloody wounds, with my sword thrust through their middles. Finally we are pressing against the city walls. Their archers are trying to take us down, showering us with flaming arrows, screaming threats and raining rocks and hot oil down on us. But we have shields of ice that cannot be penetrated, that cannot be set ablaze. We bring the ladders, scale the walls.

                I grab a soldier’s tunic and send him tumbling down and down. His screams ring in my ears. Below me a surge of white crashes through the city walls. Someone has succeeded in opening the gates. We are in the city. We will bring it down stone by stone.

                I sat up in bed so fast I made myself dizzy. I was breathing hard, as if I’d actually been scaling walls instead of just doing it in my dreams. It had felt so real. I could almost feel the stones of the walls scraping the palms of my hands. I looked down at my hands, but they were smooth and free of marks. Of course they were. It was just a dream.

                The clock on the nightstand said it was seven, and I groaned and forced myself out of bed. It had only been one week of lessons with Prince Lief, and my entire body felt like one giant bruise. Things in the dining hall weren’t any better either. It only made it worse that the Queen had actually shown up for dinner one night, accompanied by much fanfare and excitement. She’d sat up at the high table, but when she and her entourage had swept past my table she’d stopped and put her hand on my arm, and asked how my lessons had been that week.  The teasing and name calling had only grown worse at the table, and I had to force myself to grind my teeth in silence and not retaliate. There was no use flinging insults back at them. They were behaving like children, so I’d give them just as much notice as I would a child who pitched a fit.

                Lief’s insults were a different matter. They were harder to ignore, especially when they were whispered in my ear as he was teaching me the proper grip on my sword, or grunted at me while we were sparring. He couldn’t seem to get enough of the hand to hand combat, which is why I felt like I’d been run over by a dump truck.

                In the shower I tried to scrub shampoo into my hair, grunting at the strain it put on my already over-taxed arm muscles. Every part of me was dreading going to training. I was at a point where I felt ready to snap and drive my katana right through him if he made one more biting remark at my expense. One thing was true though, after seven days of lessons I was much better at blocking punches. All it took was a bloody lip or two to really drill the technique into your head.

                I climbed out of the shower and made my slow and painful way into the bedroom, where Charlotte was still sleeping, one arm flung out onto my pillow. I snorted, it’s a good thing I wasn’t sleeping there still. Geeze.

                A plain white t-shirt and a pair of cotton stretchy pants and I was ready to go. I didn’t care about makeup, since there was no way in hell I was trying to impress Lief. I shut the door quietly on my way out, shooting one last envious look at my slumbering friend.

                As usual the hallways were relatively empty. The only noise was the gentle patter of my feet echoing along the corridor. When I arrived at the big double doors I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders. Just do it, I told myself, don’t give him the satisfaction of chickening out. I pushed the door open and walked in, the familiar sounds of practice hitting me like a wall.

                Lief was waiting for me in the corner, arms folded. His usual expression, smug disgust, was absent, instead he looked sullen. I figured it out fast when I turned and looked where he was staring and saw the Queen standing off to the side of the training room. She was looking around absently, fanning herself with a light blue jewel encrusted fan. Her hair was piled on top of her head in curls today, and she had a number of noble ladies with her, all dressed to the nines, all with similar hair styles. They talked behind their hands and made eyes at the practicing swords men, who seemed to be quite distracted from their training today. When the Queen saw me she gave me a small smile and nodded politely. Then she waved a hand at Lief.

                He turned to me, looking unhappy. “She’s here to see you practice.”

                “What a shame,” I said, being sure to keep my voice low, “you won’t be able to beat the crap out of me and belittle me today.”

                He only gave me another sullen look and pulled on the handle of his sword. It came free of the scabbard with a ringing noise. “Ready yourself.”

                I reached over and took the katana down from the pegs, handling it carefully. My heart was in my throat now, and I was hyper aware that there was a crowd of royal gawkers looking on. Was the Queen here to judge how far I’d come along? What if she didn’t approve? What if she was disappointed? I swallowed hard and set my feet apart, in the “on guard” stance that Lief had taught me. The movements were easier now, and the sword felt so natural in my hands that my body sort of relaxed of its own accord.

                Lief gave no warning. He just flew forward, raised his sword and swung right at my head. Something took over. Some kind of presence that had been buried deep in my subconscious reared up and my arms were moving of their own accord. Swinging my sword up, bracing my body. His broad sword crashed down onto my katana, and my arms shook with the impact. I gritted my teeth and pressed my body forward to keep from falling.

                Lief looked disappointed, but it didn’t stop him. He lunged again, swinging on the other side, going for my left arm. Again I was moving subconsciously, controlled by something I couldn’t identify. It was scary and thrilling all at the same time. My heart was beating in my ears, thunderous and heavy, and my breath was coming short and sharp. He struck again and again, increasing in speed. The frustration in his face was becoming evident. Lief was growing more and more furious every time I countered him. I allowed my body to be controlled, passing through the movements as smoothly as a river flows around rocks in its path.  A feeling was coursing through me, filling my chest, making my body vibrate with intensity. I recognized it as fierce joy. A part of me lived for this!

                Lief was livid now, his face was a brilliant shade of red and his chest heaved as he panted, grunting with fury each time he swung. Though I met every blow he still managed to drive me backwards, and some age old instinct told me to duck and dance back the way we’d been advancing. The look on his face was shock mixed with anger. He’d been pressing me back against the wall, counting on it to block my retreat so he could pin me there.  He was clearly shocked that I had interpreted his intentions.

                My arms were burning now. And I gritted my teeth as another blow trembled through me. His sword pressed down on mine, steel grating on steel. He hissed at me, “you grow tired, Amora. “

                I didn’t answer. Something drove my body to counter-attack now, charging my muscles with wild strength, and Lief shouted in surprise as I drove him backwards, aiming blows at his head and shoulders so fast that he hardly got his heavy sword up to protect himself each time. I swung at his head, and pressed my sword against his as he had just done to me, forcing him to struggle against me, pushing upwards so my blade wouldn’t come down on his head. I ducked low, pulling my sword back and sweeping my foot out. Lief stumbled back with a cry and his arms pin-wheeled, trying to keep his balance. The broadsword was too heavy, and it fell from his grasp, clattering to the cement floor.

                Lief hit the ground a second after his weapon, landing on his back with a sharp grunt. A smattering of applause jerked my head up. It was like coming out of trance. The ladies of the court were clapping, some tittering behind their hands. The Queen was beckoning me. The sword suddenly felt foreign in my hands. I looked down at Lief who lay wheezing for air at my feet. Had I really done that?

                My hands suddenly felt numb, and I wanted to drop my sword. I gripped it more tightly instead, and stumbled over to the corner where the Queen stood. Coming to a halt in front of the group of well-dressed nobles the contrast between us became obvious. I was panting and smelled of sweat, and they were powdered and perfumed. I combed my fingers through my messy hair self-consciously.

                The Queen smiled at me with ruby red lips. Were there tears in her eyes?  She reached out and placed a hand on my arm. “My daughter has truly returned. My dear, Erik told me about your genetic memories. Today you clearly accessed them completely. Lief is talented, but there is no way he could have taught you so much in one week.” Her eye traveled over my face, like she was drinking me in. “You are truly ready for battle.”

My chest constricted. Ready for battle? Fighting Lief was one thing, but there was nothing in me that felt like I was ready to start chopping heads off. I just nodded and smiled at the Queen, and she said, “Make sure you still attend training every morning. Lief will continue to teach you hand to hand combat,”

My heart sunk, and I bit the inside of my cheek to keep myself from whining.

“And be sure to see Erik in the library after lunch every day. I’m sure he told you this, but I’ve asked him to teach you our history. He will also teach you how to control this.”

                She reached out and touched my hand, tracing her fingertip over my fingers, and I knew instinctively that she was talking about the freezing. Thank god. No more freezing people accidently, no more worrying that my next boyfriend would be turned into a giant popsicle.

                The Queen and her people left, and I turned back to Lief to find him holding his broad sword. He gritted his teeth, face red with anger and said, “Again.”