“The way you pivoted on your back foot was incredible!” Sam’s practically bouncing. “I mean, you still got destroyed, but that one move? Chef’s kiss.”
“Sam, let her breathe,” Lauren says, but she’s grinning. “The girl just got strangled. Maybe save the combat analysis for later?”
“It’s fine.” I wave her concern away. “I like hearing about my one moment of competence.”
“Competence?” Felix appears with his water canteen. “You made Vera Jackson bleed. Do you know how many of us can say that?”
“None.” Nina appears at the edge of our group, studying me with those calculating eyes of hers. “Interesting technique. Where did you learn that pivot?”
“Tennis camp,” I say, which is technically true.
Nina nods slowly, like she’s filing that information away for later. Likely for when Kieran eventually pits us against each other.
Still, the enthusiasm makes the loss sting less. Because these aren’t just classmates anymore—they’re friends. And they’re different from the friends I thought I had back home, because they’re cheering for my one good moment instead of judging me for the ten bad ones.
Before I can properly thank them, one of the healers walks over and shoos them away. “Give the injured girl some space. She needs medical attention, not a fan club.”
“We’re not a fan club,” Sam protests. “We’re a... support group?”
“Shoo,” the healer repeats, but she’s smiling.
I stand there while she tends to my injuries, forcing my skin to knit back together slower than it naturally would, so she doesn’t notice that my magic is behaving differently than a normal witch’s should.
When I rejoin everyone else, Evie’s immediately by my side.
“Next match,” Kieran calls out, already moving things along. “Evelyn Thorne and Felix Velasco. Ember Ring.”
Evie stiffens beside me.
“You’ve got this,” I tell her, squeezing her shoulder. “Felix is sweet. He’s not going to try to murder you like Vera just did to me.”
“No, he’ll just set me on fire with artistic flair,” she mutters.
As we trek down toward the Ember Ring, I realize Kieran’s actually being kind. Evie’s always been strong in there. Plus, Felix spends more time sketching in his notebook than training. He’s sweet, but he’s a far weaker fighter than Evie.
“Begin,” Kieran announces after Evie and Felix take positions.
Felix throws a fireball that Evie easily deflects. When Evie sends a controlled burst back, he dodges with more grace than I expected.
“Come on, Evie!” Rebecca shouts from beside me.
Evie’s confidence grows with each exchange. Her flames burn brighter, feeding off the Ember Ring’s power boost. She’s not perfectly precise like Nina or viciously brutal like Vera, but she’s determined, and there’s something beautiful about watching someone who prefers books to battles holding their own in the arena.
Felix attempts another attack, but his flames are scattered, like he’s painting with fire instead of fighting with it.
Evie then uses her fire as a distraction—bright bursts that force Felix to shield his eyes, the waves of heat making the air shimmer more than it already was. And while he’s disorientedby a particularly brilliant flare, Evie moves with the determined efficiency of someone who’s planned every step.
Felix spins away and brings his blade up, but Evie’s already hooking his ankle with her foot. The move is straight from Kieran’s basics class, executed with textbook precision.
He goes down hard, and she drops onto him, her knee pressing into his back, her blade against his neck.
“One,” Kieran starts as Felix struggles, trying and failing to buck Evie off.
Somehow, Felix manages to speak. “This is just like that time with the flaming hoops, except less deadly and more embarrassing,” he says. “Because I’m being defeated by someone who alphabetizes their spell components.”
“I do not—okay, I do, but that’s not relevant right now,” Evie protests, pressing her knee harder into his back.
“Five,” Kieran finishes his counting. “Winner: Evelyn Thorne.”
