Off With His Head

15. One point to Peyton

The next morning when my alarm goes off at half past five, I am already out of bed and dressed. Last night it had taken me almost two hours, and many wrong doors before I eventually found my room. But I had used that time to get accustomed to my surroundings, and I think I know my way around this place a bit better now.

Well, I know I can find the training ground on my own. And that's a start. It's all I need this morning.

I really don't want to still be here when Caleb comes to get me. I'm dreading facing him after the events of yesterday, and when I do I would prefer it to be in a neutral setting as opposed to the confined quarters of my room.

Instead of waiting for him, I walk quickly down the passage, following the route I had memorised the night before. I almost jump for joy when I manage to find the training grounds by myself, with no wrong turns.

One point to Peyton.

I stretch out my muscles, which are screaming from yesterday's exertion and take a few deep breaths. My ribs are a little tender and my body is covered in bruises, but other than that I'm just stiff. I'm not used to so much exercise, or being thrown around like a rag doll. After a few minutes, I start doing slow laps around the area. It isn't even that large, but I'm out of breath by the time I have completed one. Cursing myself for being so unfit, I push my legs to continue, each lap getting faster as my limbs loosen out.

When Caleb eventually pitches up for training I'm still running. As I pass by him on another lap, I can see the surprise etched across his face. "Jennings, I thought you had left."

I stop and stretch my arms above my head. My breath bursts out in heavy pants. "Why?"

"You weren't in your room." He shuffles from foot to foot, his hand clasped to the back of his neck. "Listen about last night, I'm sor-,"

"Its fine," I cut him off, grabbing a bottle of water from the small fridge and taking a deep sip.

"You should know that I didn't-,"

"I said its fine, Caleb." I place down my water bottle and use the sleeve of my t-shirt to wipe the sweat off my forehead. "Should we start?"

"Peyton-,"

"What?" I demand, now frustrated. He's making my attempts at being an emotionless, non-clumsy trainee very difficult.

"I'm sorry."

"I don't care. I told you its fine. Can we start now?" I raise my fists and get myself into position, ready to fight him.

He gives me a slight nod but I can tell he's confused by my attitude this morning. Mirroring my stance, he beckons me toward him with one hand. "Bring it on."

I rush at him, my arms swinging wildly, pouring all my fury from last night into my punches. I manage to clip him on the ear and he looks quite shocked. Using his momentary pause to my advantage, I bring my knee up and catch him full on the stomach.

He goes down like a tonne of bricks, collapsing onto the ground with a loud groan, the wind knocked out of him. I pull his left arm above his head and place my knee on his throat, unable to believe my luck.

I press down harder on his windpipe. "You're done."

He struggles for a few seconds, but eventually double taps my leg. I release, rolling off him and pushing myself up to a standing position, unable to keep the triumphant smile off my face. Caleb remains on the floor, seemingly dazed, coughing slightly.

Another point to Peyton.

There's a slow clap behind us, and I turn to see Lideri standing by the doorway. "Miss Jennings, I have to admit I'm quite impressed."