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“You can’t win, kid. Surrender before you’re ground into paste.”“As long as my friends are watching me, I won’t quit, and I won’t surrender!”

The fight continued in that fashion. Over and over again, Abner charged Reiss, only to be soundly beaten and hurled back. He’d hit the ground and slowly get to his feet, often while reciting some motivational quip that made Noah roll his eyes. The young man’s tenacity was admirable, but Noah wished he would stop screaming about the merits of determination and friendship. He had a rule against taking pleasure in the suffering of others, but was letting this fight continue for his amusement in seeing Abner getting knocked around. Even for an ancient spirit like Noah, the young man’s unrelenting “put me in, coach!” energy was aggravating, and he wanted to see his spirit break.

But at that moment, a memory flashed through his mind, something Noah said to him after he lost his arm. ‘People don’t know how to fight someone with missing or prosthetic limbs. It throws them off balance, and he took advantage of that. No one expects to be kicked in the chest with a peg leg.’ He glanced at Ingram, focused entirely on the fall and keeping Roc restrained. From the look in his eyes, he was most worried about Roc’s free wing getting in the way or failing to pull away in time and crashing with him. For all of his focus, all of his determination, his guard was dropped entirely.