Afterwards, we met up with Carter, Walt, and Zia to formulate a plan, so to speak. Carter suggested that we go meet Thoth and see what he could tell us. Since nobody had a better plan, we went with that one and planned to leave the next morning. I was sitting in my room listening to music when Jake opened the door. It got kind of awkward.
"Jake!" I yelped when he poked his head it the door, "What are you doing?"
He blushed, "I was going to go downstairs and do a little training and I, uh, wanted to know if you wanted to join me."
Well, it wasn't quite a date, but it seemed normal with him and his family. Apparently, Mia had told me, her first date with Sam was a hunting trip. But when I asked her what happened on it she just said: 'you are way too young,' which gave me a general idea of what went down.
"Uh, why do you want me to train with you?" I asked out of curiosity as we walked down to the training room on the second floor.
Jake sighed, "Look, I'm going to be straightforward with you, Tina. I wouldn't want to train you to fight if I didn't have to. But, Mia suggested that you learn the basic stuff just to be safe. But, I am going to, uh, alter the system."
He led me into the basketball court-sized training room where the two Ra statues stood on both ends of the room. Jake crossed the room and grabbed a a long box and a fair sized chest which I immediately recognized.
"That's the one you keep in your room," I said as I crouched down beside him to look in the box. All over it were Native American wood carvings depicting scenes of all sorts. But what was inside the box was more interesting; traditional fighting clothes, weapons, and masks. But the most appealing of all was a picture in the bottom of the chest. I dug through the stuff and pulled it out to look at it. Four teenagers, all boys, stood with their arms around each others shoulders with laughs framed immortally in the faded picture. The one at the far end was familiar; obviously a younger Jake with his lean body and tan skin. And yet, he was dressed in light, fur clothing with a bow and quiver with eyes that looked genuinely at peace and his body looked less tense. The boys around him looked like regular Native boys but even they had expressions of happiness on their faces as they embraced Jake. Like close family members.
"Oh, you found that picture," Jake said as he looked over my shoulder, "Well, Dean had some friends in the forces who were from an Iroquois reservation and so, when I was 11 years old, I went to live on the reservation for a while. The peeps Dean knew had some kids my age who took me under their wing," he handed me another picture of him with a woman and a man who had their hands on his shoulders as if to say 'this is our adopted son.'
"Anyways," I said, putting the pictures back in the trunk and looking at Jake, "Combat training."
"Right," He said as he pulled two long staffs out of the thin box and handed one to me. It was light and felt like a spear in my hands, "We're just going to start with these but I'll let you pick out what you really want to use later."
We walked to the center of the room and faced each other. I gripped the pole in my hands and waited for him to move. He did, of course, by swinging it from the side. I put all my strength into my grip and blocked the strike with my pole. Jake smiled proudly. He took a diagonal swing at me and I rolled out of the way which was surprising but it felt like someone was almost willing me to do it; giving me advice, almost. I thrust the staff at Jake's back and he grabbed it just before it hit. I yanked it out of his grip then swung it in an uppercut. Jake did an honest to god backflip and dodged it.
"You're good," He said with a huge smile on his face, "a female warrior."
"I'm not good enough to land a hit on you," I commented, but he waved that remark away.
"Not many people can," he said in an almost cocky way, "But that's not important. You fight well but I think I have the right weapon for you." He went back to the trunk and pulled out a small axe. It was beautiful, really: it had a shining silver blade and a dark wooden shaft with a leather wrapped grip. Obviously Native American; judging by the carvings and steel work and it's wooden blade perfectly outfitted to suit a stealthy hunter.
"It's a tomahawk," Jake said, slicing it through the air a few times before handing it to me. It was truly light and fast with a deadly looking blade, "And now it's yours."
"Oh," I said, swinging it a few more times, truly entranced by the axe, "Wow, thank you, I'm going to use this a lot, I think."
Jake laughed, "It's just a gift. Not the typical thing a guy would give to a girl, but close enough."
At the end of that training session which went on for another 25 minutes after that, I was a beast with that tomahawk: I could land strikes on Shabti that were stronger then me and I could twirl it between my fingers really fast. It was totally my favorite thing just below water magic. Jake led me up to my room afterwards but stopped me just outside the door.
"What's up?" I asked when he turned around to me, "Oh, do you want the tomahawk back because I can just-"
He grabbed me and kissed me. I was so totally unprepared for it that I dropped the tomahawk on the floor. I grabbed his shoulders as he tangled his hands into my hair. The kiss was so unexpected that my brain was still on haywire mode when he turned around and pressed me up against the door. I died almost 72,000,000 ecstatic little deaths as he ran his hands through my hair. That feeling is just pure joy.
He pulled away reluctantly, "No, I just wanted to say goodnight and give you a goodnight kiss." He smiled against my ear in that little endearing way of his.
"It worked," I smiled back as I gripped his white shirt, "At my expense."
He kissed my cheek lightly once more and then pulled away and started down the hall. I saw him wipe his hands on the side of his pants and blush a little bit. I opened my door and walked inside where I slipped off my shoes, pulled the covers off my bed so I could settle myself in, then collapsed face first on the pillow giggling.
No, I swear I'm a warrior.
