Reversed

i. one

Sophie tugged at her hair in the mirror of her considerable bathroom, musing over the thought of staining the tips black. It would make her look like the Song twins' opposite.

A loud knock sounded at the door to her room, and she whipped her head towards the noise, relaxing as she recognized the sound of a familiar voice.

"Soph, you coming?" a voice called from outside the door. "Everyone's waiting!"

"On my way!" She growled, tugging a dark cloak over her skin-tight black tunic and leggings—as well as rows of straps and braces teeming with various daggers, stars, and slightly questionable technopath gadgets—before hurrying out into her open bedroom.

She snatched her boots from under her bed and grabbed the illuminum-plated gloves by the door, tugging them on as she stepped out into the hallway of the northernmost Neverseen hideout.

At the end of the black hall lit by flames of balefire, she unlocked a camouflaged door with her DNA that led to the entryway of the main training arena—whose walls were armed to the teeth with more weapons than Sophie used to never have been able to dream of seeing in her life. She stuffed two extra daggers up her sleeves and pushed through the second door and into the arena, making sure to check that her gloves were secure before sauntering over to the evening's company.

Ruy, Trix, and Gethen had all started without her, the latter two sparring—Ruy was creating flashy force fields to toss between the two to throw them off balance. He glanced up as she walked in.

"Finally!" he called. "Took you long enough."

She crossed her arms and leaned against the wall, casually studying Gethen and Trix's sharp, precise moves. Twist. Drop. Dodge. Lunge. "So, boss, what brand of torture do you have in mind for today?" she drawled.

Ruy was in charge of her training. He had shown her all kinds of things she hadn't known she could do with the Black Swan—things she'd never thought she could be good at. He'd honed her combat techniques, taught her how to handle every single weapon the Neverseen had in stock, and sharpened her senses until she was just as ruthless and deadly as any other member of the order—more so, if anything.

She was one of the greatest weapons the Neverseen possessed.

He walked over, leaving a crackling force field hanging between Gethen and Trix that swelled and twitched and shot out sparks of energy at random intervals. The two fighters frantically dodged the blasts while trying to get in a hit at one another, beads of sweat forming on their brows.

"I was thinking something along the lines of projectile work," Ruy said. "I've seen you fling goblin throwing stars like you've been practicing for all your life—even though we've barely brushed on it. Your aim is near-perfect." He snapped his fingers and the lightning-throwing force field dissipated. The two fighters lunged at each other, snarling—without turning around, Ruy made a single-handed motion and threw up a wall between them.

They smacked into it, Gethen spewing a string of curses from the ground and Trix barking an obscene amount of threats complete with a nasty glare thrown Ruy's way.

Ruy pulled three throwing stars from his cloak and handed them to her, seemingly oblivious to the chaos behind him. He turned and pointed at a target on the far side of a wall about fifty yards away. "Aim at that. Let's see what you've got."

"Easy." Sophie stepped off the wall, planted her feet, and aimed.

"Good, now—" Ruy started, but Sophie was already whipping her arm forward and releasing all three stars at once. She hit parallel bullseyes.

Ruy quirked an eyebrow. "If you'd listened to me, you would have known to throw it using only telekinesis. Your skills have grown a lot since we started, so I believe it's time to move on to the part of telekinesis that isn't all—" he wiggled his fingers in the air "—floaty."

Sophie grinned at him, tucking her hair away. "Does that mean we get to use splotchers?"

He nodded, a slightly evil smile turning his lips. "Yeah. The Neverseen's splotchers."

Sophie rolled her eyes, her maniac smile probably matching his. "Oh, great. This better be fun."

She walked over to the target she'd aimed at and pulled the throwing stars from it, one by one.

She stared at them in her hands.

The wickedly curved goblin-style points reminded her of Sandor—and her old friends; her old life. She clenched them tighter.

She couldn't wait to get back at everyone who lied, manipulated, and tricked her. They so had it coming.