Basic test of balance

“Do it again.”

Larten scowled and picked himself up off the forest floor. Flicking twigs
and moss from his hair and clothes, he climbed the tall tree and edged out
along a branch the width of his wrist. When he got as far as he could
standing up, he bent, gripped the branch with his hands, and kicked his feet
into the air. It took him a few seconds to find his balance. Once he was
steady, he walked out farther on his hands.

“Stop,” Seba said as the branch creaked and bowed from the weight. He
was sitting higher up in the tree, chewing a bone. Wester was at the end of
another branch, balanced on his hands like Larten.
Larten stared at the ground, feeling sweat trickle along his neck. Seba
watched for a while, still chewing. Then, without warning, he tossed the
bone in Larten’s direction, but a couple of feet beyond the branch on which
the young vampire was precariously perched.

“Catch it!” Seba barked.

Larten’s left hand shot out, and his fingers clutched for the bone. He
almost made contact, but as had happened sixteen times already, his right
hand shook wildly, he lost his balance, and he fell with a startled cry, hitting
the earth not long after the bone.

Seba tutted, then said, “Do it again.”

As Larten muttered angrily and climbed back up the tree, Seba dug
another bone out of the bag in his lap, then threw it at Wester. His other
assistant enjoyed no more success than Larten had and was soon picking
himself up from the ground and wincing.

“This is ridiculous,” Larten grumbled, staring at the branch with
something close to hatred. “It is an impossible task.”

“Not at all,” Seba said. “Every vampire learns to do this. It is a basic
test.”

***

The Saga of Larten Crepsley: Birth of a Killer, Chapter 19