Lauren steps forward with more confidence than I’d have in her position, and as we head down to the second circle, I hurry to Evie’s side.
“The Fury Loop messes with everyone.” I touch her arm gently, remembering the heated way she and Kieran kept looking at each other. “Although… youareblushing pretty hard right now.”
“I hate the Fury Loop.” She finally looks at me, her expression equal parts mortified and defiant. “But for a second in there, I felt... powerful. Like I could actually fight back. And I liked how it felt to be dangerous, even though I obviously never was. At least, not againsthim.”
She shoots Kieran an evil look, even though he’s leading us down the slick steps, so his back is toward us.
“You know…” I bump her shoulder, giving her a knowing smile. “When you hooked his leg and took him down, you looked like a total badass.”
That startles a laugh out of her, and some of the tension in her shoulders eases. “Thanks, Jade.”
“For what?”
“For making jokes instead of judgments.”
“You’re my closest friend here,” I tell her, surprised by the raw honesty in my words. “I’m always on your side.”
“Right back at you,” she says, and we share another smile before Felix comes and joins us for the rest of the hike down.
As class continues, most of us last even less time than Evie did, although Nina manages almost a full minute through sheer technical skill. Each fight is a lesson in how emotion becomes liability—anger making strikes wild, fear making movements predictable, and pride making defenses sloppy.
Kieran puts me in the Siphon Sphere, which I’m grateful for, since it drains my magic. The longer you stay, the weaker you become, making it less likely for me to reveal my electricity in front of the class.
Ialwaysend up in circles that don’t reveal my electricity. The Void Pit, the Siphon Sphere, the Smoke Spire… it’s almost as if Kieran’s in on helping me hide what I truly am. I haven’t had to step foot in the Ember Ring or the Fury Loop once.
When class is over, he announces our rankings. I’m third to last. But hey, it could be worse, right?
“I suggest you spend the next week preparing,” he reminds us when he’s done. “Because on Thursday, the real matches begin.”
JADE
The weekend blurspast in a haze of failed training sessions and mounting panic.
Two days of watching Evie and Felix improve, while I fumble every move, electricity crackling under my skin like a caged animal. Two days of holding back so much that my magic’s buzzing from the effort of restraining my power.
I’ve scraped by in Kieran’s regular classes so far by throwing weak fireballs and taking hits I could have dodged. But the trials? One-on-one combat where holding back might mean failing, and thus, expulsion? Where losing will land me kitchen or grounds duty for all next semester? Or worse, having my electricity come out and possibly having to face the ominously mysterious Council?
There won’t be any recovery from that.
When afternoon classes end on Monday, I hurry to Phoenix Hall and push open my door… only to almost step on the folded paper lying just inside. My name’s written on the outside in unfamiliar handwriting, and when I open it, confusion rushes through me even faster.
Worship Center. Crone Chamber. Come alone. Bring your dagger.
That’s it. No signature, no explanation. Just a location and an order to go to a quiet place alone with a weapon.
I should crumple it up. Pretend I never saw it. But the certainty in it makes me pause, and twenty minutes later, I’m entering the Worship Center.
Where the rest of Blaze Academy favors gothic spires and fortress-like walls, the Worship Center is all curves and shadows, built from black volcanic stone. It’s always open, but it’s usually empty at this hour, since everyone’s either at dinner or training.
Three corridors branch off from the center like the roads at a crossroads. One leads to the Maiden Chamber, one to the Mother, and one to the Crone. I’ve been here once before, during orientation, when the Headmistress explained that witches could come here to “commune with Hecate in whichever form of hers calls to them.” The Maiden Chamber for new beginnings, the Mother for guidance, and the Crone for... what exactly? Wisdom? Death? Constance had been vague about that one.
I guess that means it’s time to find out. So, straightening, I face the mysterious hallway and push open the door.
Logan stands in the center, hands clasped behind his back, facing the altar. His shoulders are rigid, and there’s a slight tremor in his stance, like he’s vibrating with suppressed energy.
The moment I step inside, he turns to face me, the eternal flame in the corner casting shifting shadows across his face.
“You came,” he says, and it’s not a question. Just an observation. But there’s relief in it, quickly hidden.
