“Jade, this isn’t?—“
“I’m coming with you.” I straighten my dress with shaking hands, trying to ignore how my body still pulses and thrums from Logan’s touch. “That’s my best friend’s brother screaming. That’s my roommate they’re threatening. You really think I’m going to hide while?—“
“While you get yourself killed?” His eyes flash with something dangerous. “You have no idea what you’re walking into.”
“Then tell me.” I call on my electricity, silver sparks dancing between my fingers, controlled and deliberate.
The passages light up with my power, casting eerie shadows on the ancient stone.
“See?” I lower my hands and let the electricity fade. “You’ve been training me well. I can control it. Now stop arguing and move.”
Another cry echoes through the passages. Oliver again, followed by the sound of a struggle.
My stomach clenches with dread, and I take off toward the sounds, kicking off my heels as I navigate the twisting tunnels. The stone is cold under my bare feet, and I definitely step on something sharp, but I don’t care. All I care about is not leaving this place knowing I could have helped but having done nothing.
We’ve already had one student death this semester, and I refuse to let there be another.
Logan’s quickly by my side, and we’re racing through the tunnels, following the echoes of voices.
Snippets of conversation drift toward us as we get closer.
“—told you to stay away from her—” That’s Oliver, breathless and angry.
“—narrow-minded view of power—” A smoother voice, cultured and far too calm for whatever’s happening here.
“—won’t let you turn anyone else?—“
“—already too late for that?—”
Logan grabs my arm to slow me down as the voices grow louder, more distinct.
But that smooth voice… I know it. I’ve heard it in classes, asking probing questions about my progress, giving me books to help me catch up on my magical education.
“Professor Thaddeus?” The realization hits me like a punch.
Logan doesn’t respond, but his jaw tightens, and we round the final corner just as a door ahead shimmers shut.
I’d recognize that door anywhere, with the seven intertwining circles etched into the stone. It’s the one that leads to the Scorched Circles.
I hurry toward it, open it with my sigil, and Logan and I burst through onto the moonlit training grounds.
The air at the base of the Scorched Circles shimmers with residual heat. And there, high above us on the Crown—that jagged volcanic peak where only the desperate or foolish dare to fight—a massive column of fire erupts against the night sky.
“No!” The word tears from my throat as the flames die down, revealing two figures silhouetted against the stars.
Even from this distance, I can make out Oliver’s form, stumbling, and the taller figure of Professor Thaddeus standing over him.
Logan’s already moving, orange flames swirling around his feet. “Stay here.”
“Are you insane? Take me with you!”
But he’s already dissolving into flame, leaving me standing alone at the base of the Scorched Circles with nothing but frustration and the lingering scent of smoke.
A second later, he materializes in a burst of fire next to Thaddeus on the Crown.
No. This is so not okay. I’m done being left behind. Done being protected like some fragile thing that might break.
I have power, and I’m going tousethat power.
