Free Pride and Prejudice and Zombies: Dawn of the Dreadfuls by Steve Hockensmith Page B

demonstrate.”
    His vest joined his coat on the floor. When he began untying his cravat, Elizabeth could actually feel the burn of the blush on her cheeks. For a moment, it looked as though he meant to take off his shirt, as well. He was merely loosening it, though, giving his broad chest room to do its work.
    When he was ready, he threw himself facedown. Then he pushed up with his arms, and his body lifted, all his weight suspended on his palms and toes.
    “One,” he said.
    He lowered himself until his nose touched the floor, then pushed up again.
    “Two.”
    And so it went, all the way to fifty. It took him no more than half a minute.
    He stood up again and looked at Kitty.
    “Now you.”
    Slowly, reluctantly, Kitty stretched out on the floor and attempted her first
dand-baithak
. Her arms shook under the strain of her weight, and by the time she could say “One” her face was as red as a beet.
    “YOU!” Master Hawksworth barked, pointing at Mary this time. “Jump through the ceiling and catch me a swallow.”
    It had always been one of Mary’s pleasures to learn from the mistakes of others, and this she tried to do again. She promptly got to her feet, stretched her arms out toward the ceiling, and hopped straight up with all her might.
    Her feet made it all of four inches off the ground.
    “I’m sorry, Master Hawksworth,” she said. “I missed.”
    Master Hawksworth nodded. “But you did as I said without question.”
    Mary smiled primly and began to sit down.
    “And you failed!” Master Hawksworth snapped. “Fifty
dand-baithaks
.”
    “But—”
    “Sixty!”
    “But—”
    “Seventy!”
    “But—”
    “Eighty!”
    Mary finally learned from her own mistake and got down on the floor.
    “Master Hawksworth,” Lydia said, “before you ask, I can’t jump through the ceiling and catch you a swallow, either.”
    “So I would assume.”
    The Master stalked over to one of the weapons racks, pulled down a dagger, and held it out toward Lydia.
    “You will kill
that
,” he jerked his head at a fly buzzing around where the daffodils used to be, “then skin it before it hits the ground.”
    “You want me to skin a
fly
?”
    “A novitiate never questions the master’s orders! Fifty
dand-baithaks
!”
    Lydia stretched out beside her huffing, puffing sisters.
    Elizabeth saw where all this was heading: Within a minute, Jane was doing
dand-baithaks
, too, for though she attacked the fly without question, she missed it with every slice of the knife.
    Then it was Elizabeth’s turn.
    “
HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-IIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
” she cried, lunging at the fly.
    It weaved under her first swipe. It danced around her second.
    The third—to Elizabeth’s own amazement—sent it dropping to the floor. Dead.
    “Not bad, Elizabeth Bennet,” the Master said. Yet his eyes said somethingmore: When Elizabeth looked his way, she found him peering at her with what looked like naked—almost awestruck—fascination.
    Master Hawksworth knelt down to inspect the fly lying before her.
    “As at the lake, your zeal does you credit,” he said, his tone warming for a moment before freezing back into brittle ice. “A pity your skills do not. This fly has not been skinned—it has merely lost a wing.” He stood up with one hand held out. “Fifty
dand-baithaks
.”
    Elizabeth gave him back the dagger and went to the floor at his feet.
    “You look displeased, Oscar Bennet,” she heard Master Hawksworth say over her own panting and the roar of blood rushing in her ears. (The
dand-baithaks
were even more difficult than they looked.) “Do you wish to complain? If so, go ahead. I grant you dispensation this once.”
    “Yes, I am displeased,” Mr. Bennet said. “It pains me to see my daughters so roughly treated.” Elizabeth caught the faint, familiar sound of one of her father’s sighs. “But no . . . I will not complain. We have been weak.
I
have been weak. I pray you will help us find our