Evie scrambles off Felix immediately, offering him a hand up. “Are you okay? I didn’t press too hard, did I?”
He takes her hand with a rueful smile. “My pride’s bruised more than anything else. Good match, Thorne. Your alphabetizing clearly paid off.”
She laughs, the sound slightly hysterical with relief. “Thanks. And sorry again about... you know, the whole knee-in-your-back thing.”
“It’s combat class, not a tea party,” he says, but he’s grinning. “Although next time, maybe we could just have tea instead?”
The healers check them both over quickly, although neither seems to have anything worse than singed clothing and wounded pride.
“See?” I tell Evie when she returns to my side. “You didn’t need that theoretical combat paper after all.”
She laughs, but it’s shaky. “I think I might throw up. Is that normal? That feels normal.”
“Totally normal,” I assure her, even though I have no idea, since it thankfully didn’t happen to me.
Probably because I was too fixated on making sure I didn’t turn into an electrical powerhouse in an arena where magic is supposed to be impossible to access.
“What if I have to fight Vera next round?” Evie’s voice drops to a whisper. “She’ll kill me. You saw what she did to you, and you actually landed a hit. I’ll just... die.”
“Then you’ll die with excellent form and properly alphabetized spell components,” I say, which makes her laugh despite everything. “And at least your obituary will read ‘she died beautifully organized.’”
Opposed to mine, which will say I electrocuted my classmates and was executed by the Council for being the wrong kind of witch.
JADE
The next weekpasses by in a blur of classes, studying, and training sessions with Logan.
Every night, I sneak out to meet him in the passages, and every night, we get a little closer to breaking down that invisible wall he’s constructed between us. The way his hands linger when he corrects my stance. The way he watches me when he thinks I’m not looking. The way my name sounds different on his lips at two am when we’re exhausted and our defenses are down.
But we don’t talk about it. We just train and pretend the air between us isn’t charged with something other than my electricity.
Before long, it’s time for another round of Kieran’s twisted tournament.
“Winner: Nina Aldridge,” Kieran announces as Nina’s blade presses against my throat.
The Smoke Spire’s disorienting effects linger, even as we exit the circle. My legs feel unsteady, like I’ve been spinning in circles for an hour, which honestly isn’t far from the truth. The smoke in there is like being inside a giant lava lamp, if lava lamps weredesigned by sadists who wanted to watch you stumble around like a drunk toddler.
Then there’s the warm trickle of blood from where Nina’s blade caught my ribs during a particularly brutal exchange. But in better news, my knuckles are throbbing from the one solid punch I landed on her jaw.
Two healers wait just outside the circle. One immediately moves toward Nina while the other approaches me.
“Let’s have a look,” she says, already pulling aside my training gear to examine the cut. “Not too deep. Hold still.”
From a few feet away, Vera smirks at her spot near Garrett. “Told you Harrington wouldn’t last two minutes.”
“One minute forty-three seconds, actually,” Nina corrects, then winces as her healer prods her jaw. “And she landed a solid hit.”
I blink, surprised. Did Nina Aldridge just... defend me? To Vera?
The world must be ending. Or maybe Nina considers me a friend now?
“Thanks,” I tell her, and while Nina doesn’t give me an actual smile, there’s something in her expression that might be approval.
My healer frowns, leaning closer to examine my ribs. “Strange. This is already starting to close.”
My stomach drops. I was too focused on Nina and Vera that I forgot to tell my body to heal slower.
Think fast, Jade.
