Gil and Rijonn looked at her in surprise.

"You wish to learn the Dance of Knives? But why?” Surprise and disapproval mingled in Gil's starry eyes. Fey women didn't learn weapons skills. Their empathic sensitivity made them incapable of taking a life without losing their own.

But Ellysetta wasn't like other Fey women. "Because we're going to war, and at the very least, I should learn how to defend myself."

"Defending you is our job," Gil said.

"And if you're wounded—or dead? If I'm sel'dor-shot like Rain was and can't call my magic?" She shook her head, "I should at least know how to protect myself."

"Teach her," Fanor said quietly when the Fey hesitated. Everyone turned towards him. "I do not know all the verses of her Song," he told them soberly, "but those I have Seen are fraught with peril. The gods did not intend her for a path of peace. The kindest service you could offer would be to prepare her for that purpose. She will need all her strength and skills to meet what lies ahead."

The quintet looked to Rain for direction. He turned to Ellysetta.

"I need to do this," she told him. "I cannot stay helpless."

"You are far from that."

"You know what I mean."

His sigh spoke of fear and regret mingled with grim acceptance. “Teach her," he said. “Teach her to fight. Teach her to defend herself, and teach her to kill. The five of you must be her chatoks in the Dance of Knives. Teach her as you have taught no other. Give her everything. Hold nothing back."

"Rain ..." Bel murmured, his eyes troubled.

Rain waved off his unspoken objection. "She is a Tairen Soul, and we Tairen Souls were born for war. I may not like this path the gods have set before her, but Farsight is right. I must do everything in my power to ensure she is prepared to walk it."

"Fey'cha," Bel explained, "are weighted in the center to ensure a perfect circular arc as the blades travel through the air. The most basic grip—the first a chadin learns in his dance of knives—is the takaro, the hammer...." He showed her how to grasp the knife with her fingers and thumb curled around the hilt. "Your stance gives you balance and adds strength to your throw, as does the manner in which you draw back and release your blades."

He demonstrated the slightly crouched stance—right foot forward, left foot back a pace—that would give her arm the most power for the throw. The first throw all chadin learn is an overhanded throw called Desriel'chata—Death's Bite. You pull your arm back like so." He bent her arm at the elbow and guided the hand gripping the knife back over her shoulder. "Then, when you are ready to throw, you snap the arm forward and release your grip no later than here in your swing." He raised his forearm to stop the slow downward motion of her arm.

"Watch. See the knot in that silverfir tree there?" He pointed to a tall, broad-trunked fir tree a few man lengths away. "I will use that as my target." Using the same grip and stance he'd just shown her, Bel drew a black-handled Fey'cha from his own chest harness, cocked his arm, then threw it in one smooth whip of motion. The blade flew from his hand in a blur and it thunked home in the tree trunk moments later. "Any questions?"

Ellysetta shook her head.

"Kabei, then you try. Take your stance." He nodded approvingly when she positioned her feet and crouched as he'd shown her. "Get a good grip on your blade. Aiyah, just like that. Now, draw back your arm. Keep your eye on the target."

Ellysetta drew back her arm and fixed her gaze on the dark knot in the silverfir tree. The world narrowed down to a slender, focused tunnel and she could almost see the line that her blade would need to take to hit the target. The grip didn't feel comfortable in her hand, so she moved her thumb parallel to the knife blade, pressing lightly on the spine.

"And now throw," Bel said.

Her arm snapped forward. The blade left her hand and cartwheeled through the air in perfect silver circles. It thunked into the exact center of the tree ... several handspans below the knot that had been her target.

The miss surprised Ellysetta more than it should have. Once she'd changed her grip on the blade, she'd been so sure she understood the angle, the throw, the blade's trajectory. As if she'd thrown the same blade a thousand times.

"Don't look so disappointed," Bel said. The throw itself was well-done. We just need to work on your aim."

Rijonn walked over to the tree to extract the blade. "You had decent strength in your throw, too," he announced. "The blade sank two fingerspans deep into the tree." He pulled the blade from the tree and sent it spinning towards Bel with a flick of his wrist.

Bel snatched the Fey'cha out of the air with casual ease and handed it back to Ellysetta, hilt first. "Try again, kem'falla."

She waited for Rijonn to clear out of the way, then sent the next dagger spinning towards the tree. Once again it sank, quivering, into a spot below the knot she'd been aiming for.

"Well, you're consistent, at least," Gil said with a grin.

He tossed back the blade, and Bel handed it to Ellysetta again. "This is why chadins practice for so many years. Give it another try."

She threw the blade a third time, and a fourth and fifth. Always, the result was the same: She consistently hit the center of the tree, but below her target.

"Throw again," Gaelen commanded, his eyes narrowed slightly. "But this time, don't aim for the knot; aim for this." His hand flicked out. Green magic swirled from his fingertips, and a red circle appeared on the tree above the knot.