CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
Ceres gasped for breath as water thundered down onto her. The waterfall hammered into her and she reeled with it, having to fight to keep going. She had no idea why Eoin thought that directly under one was the right place to train in the combat arts they used on the island, but right now she wished that he’d picked somewhere, anywhere, else.
Eoin, of course, stood in the shallow pool beneath it as calmly as if he were in summer rain. He barely even seemed to lift his voice to be heard above it. “This is called Clouds Weaving.”
Ceres shook with the effort as she tried to copy the movements Eoin made. She tried to concentrate in spite of the relentless battering of the water, but it was almost impossible to get every detail correct, and Eoin seemed to want perfection i
