The yard ended at the north wall. Past the wall the ground fell away into a drainage ditch, waist-deep in the middle and full of yesterday’s rain.
Calen had told the class to stay off the edge. He had not told them why, and nobody had asked.
On Day thirty-two, he took Nell to the edge.
“Edge lesson three,” he said.
“Three shoves. Three passes. Then we stop.”
Nell nodded. She stood with her heels three steps back from the lip of the ditch, the wooden blade low in her right hand. Her left hand hung empty at her side.
Her grip had left a red line across her palm, from two days of holding the blade too hard.
“Loosen the hand,” Calen said.
