Felix pales, but takes the weapon with steady hands.
“Jade Harrington.” Kieran holds out the plainest dagger I’ve ever seen. No decoration. No special features. Just steel and a leather-wrapped grip. “Sometimes the simplest tools reveal the most.”
I take it, expecting to feel disappointed. Instead, the weight is perfect in my hand, the leather grip molding to my fingers like it was made for me.
“Questions?” Kieran asks the group once everyone has their weapons.
“Yeah.” Garrett twirls his dagger like he’s starring in a bad action movie. “When do we start training?”
Kieran’s smile promises pain. “Now.”
JADE
“Fourth circle,”Kieran announces, already turning toward the carved steps. “The Void Pit.”
“Now?” Sam stares at the rain-slick stairs like they personally offended him. “In this?”
Kieran doesn’t even glance back. “Would you prefer to wait for perfect conditions when someone’s trying to kill you?”
He starts climbing, and we scramble after him like ducklings following a particularly murderous mother duck. The stairs are worse than they looked from below, worn smooth by centuries of feet, now slick with rain.
By the time we reach the Void Pit, I’m ready to sell my soul for an elevator. And if that’s not bad enough, we then have to take curved steps that line the wall at least a hundred feetdown,because the Void Pit is a literal hole in the ground, about twice as deep as it is wide.
As we descend, the stone becomes darker, older looking. Stains that might be rust or blood mark the ground. And the moment I reach the bottom, something shifts. The constant tingle of magic under my skin just... stops.
“The Void Pit suppresses all magic,” Kieran explains, not even winded from the journey. “No fire. No tricks. Just you and steel.”
“This is Applied Flamecraft,” Evie protests, wringing water from her hair. “Not Steel Before Spells. That’s second-year.”
Kieran turns to her with liquid smoothness. “Tell me, Evelyn Thorne.” His voice is soft and dangerous. “What happens when you face another witch?”
She presses her lips together, saying nothing.
He nods, as if he’s already won the conversation. “As you know, we can’t be burned. Fire won’t hurt us.” He’s circling her now, and Evie’s hand tightens on her new dagger. “So, what then? You’ll write them a strongly worded letter? Debate them to death?”
“There are other ways to use fire creatively?—”
Kieran flows forward, his movement so fast it’s almost a blur.
Evie tries to lift her dagger, but his palm smacks her wrist, sending her weapon skittering across the stone. In the next breath, he’s spun her around, his blade pressed to her throat.
“You’re dead,” he says conversationally. “Your impressive heat shields didn’t save you. Because sometimes the enemy gets close. And when they do, magical theory won’t stop steel.”
He releases her just as suddenly, and she bolts to grab her weapon before retreating back to me.
“Anyone else want to question why we’re here?” Kieran asks.
Silence. Even the rain seems quieter.
“Good.” He drags a crate from beneath the stairs into the center of the circle. “Real blades away. Today, we’ll use these.”
He tosses wooden practice daggers to each of us. Mine hits my chest before I manage to catch it, because apparently the small amount of hand-eye coordination that I have died during the hike up the volcano.
“Three basic moves,” Kieran says. “Thrust, slash, parry. Master these before you even think about anything fancy.” He demonstrates each with effortless efficiency, making them look insultingly easy. “Practice solo for five minutes. Then we pair up.”
I fumble through the motions, hyperaware that I look like a toddler playing with a stick. Around me, others are picking it up with varying degrees of success. Nina’s movements are already clean and precise. Garrett’s putting too much force behind everything. Sam keeps dropping his practice dagger because his hands are shaking.
“Pairs,” Kieran says too soon, rattling off assignments.
