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away.
    “I’m sorry. I hurt you.” Jade frowned, lowering her hand.
    “No,” he corrected her in a hoarse, hushed voice, “you didn’t hurt me. But you’re my mistress. Jade,” he said, dropping his voice even further and flushing with anger, “What do you think you’re doing?”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Just do us both a favor and leave me alone.”
    The angry, smart retort he expected from Jade didn’t come. He felt her eyes on his face, though he would no longer meet them with his. She took a step closer to him before she spoke.
    “You resent me now, Vent. For being your mistress. You never did before. Why?” At this last word Jade touched the back of his hand lightly with her fingertips.
    He pulled back abruptly. “We have promises to keep.”
    She blinked, then hardened her expression, squared her shoulders, and glided out past him.
    “Connie, could you bring the coffee to my room when it’s ready, please?” she said, and she hurried away before Connie could get out all of, “Yes, Miss.”

PART TWO

CHAPTER EIGHT
    Spring’s First Month, 658 After the Founding

    It was still early when they arrived at Warrior’s Way, in Crossroads City. It was a sunny spring day, a day that begged to be spent outdoors, but they headed straight for the center’s main training room.
    At the training room door, Calling Fox gripped Venture’s hand in a firm shake. “It’s good to see you again. You’re getting tall, Vent. As big as most of these guys now.”
    “Seventeen,” Earnest said, standing beside Venture and looking up, “and nearly a head taller than me.”
    “I’ve still got a lot of bulking up to do.” Venture gave Calling’s tree-trunk limbs a meaningful look.
    Dasher shook Calling’s hand too. “We’re here for the next couple of months, if you’ll have us.”
    Calling, a fighter in his mid-twenties, had become a good friend to his rival, Dasher Starson, over their years competing against each other. Dasher had won his third Championship the year before, and Calling had taken third, behind him and Will Fisher. They all knew without saying that when Dasher left Warrior’s Way, he and Calling would both spend the last couple of months before the Championship taking what they’d just learned and working on a plan to pick each other apart when they met up again in the arena.
    Calling promised them a room in the dormitory, and they left the unpacking for later and got right to the mat.
    “It should be easier for you this time than it was last year, keeping up with the men,” Calling said as he sat down to stretch next to Venture.
    “I hope so.”
    Though they specialized in adult fighters, Warrior’s Way had separate training for younger fighters, split up into different age groups; some, like at Beamer’s, as young as ten. But Venture stayed with Dasher and Earnest, and that meant that most of the time his training partners were grown men. They had been since his first visit two years ago.
    After drilling several striking and takedown sequences, it was time for sparring. The first fighter he went against, Carter, was tough, but Venture was able to push him now. That meant that Carter pushed back, harder than before. Venture wasn’t just a kid for Carter to be careful with anymore like he’d been during last year’s visit; he was a real threat. Venture managed to stay on top against Carter, but the next guy was even better, and he barely scraped by.
    After the fifth straight round, each fighter a higher caliber than the last, Calling said, “Come on, Vent. You and me.”
    Venture tried to give him a fight, but he was so strong, so powerful, it was like trying to move a brick wall around the mat. Calling took him down time and time again, swift, crisp, hard. Venture couldn’t count the strikes that made it through his best efforts at defense. And everything he attempted to do to Calling failed completely.
    The whistle blew. After Venture shook Calling’s hand, he found a place on the