“NICE WORK, EVERYONE!” I CALL out, jogging toward the center of the field, where my teammates are catching their breath. The runes on the field are still glowing faintly from our last drill. “Let’s call it for today.”
Leo wipes sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. “That last play was brutal, man. I thought Callum was going to flatten me.”
Callum, one of our defensive players, grins and claps Leo on the shoulder hard enough to make him stumble. “Almost did. You’re getting faster though.”
“Before you all head out,” I say, gesturing for the team to gather closer, “I want to talk strategy for a minute.” They all huddle up around me, and I project my voice a bit to make sure everyone can hear. “We’ve been working on speed and agility, but we’re not using the rune zones to our advantage the way we could be.”
The field is marked with glowing runes—areas where the arcane sphere’s magic changes when it passes through, making it move faster or become encased in fire or ice. Some teams try to avoid them because they make the arcane sphere harder to control, but that’s exactly why we should be using them.
“The runes can create chaos,” I continue, “but if we use them right, we’ll have an edge over teams that avoid them. Next practice, I want to run drills exclusively with the runes.”
A few of the players groan, but most—including Mona—nod in agreement.
“Trust me,” I say with a grin. “When we finally crush the Sigil Strikers by using the runes to our advantage, it’ll be worth it.”
“Hexrush!” Leo shouts, pumping a fist into the air.
“Hexrush!” the rest of the team echoes, and I can’t help but smile at their enthusiasm.
As everyone starts to disperse, heading toward the locker rooms or gathering their things from the sidelines, I bend to grab my water flask from where I left it near the edge of the field. I take a long drink, the cool water a relief against my parched throat, then tip the rest over my head, letting it run down my face and neck.
The late-afternoon sun is still warm despite the autumn chill in the air, and I’m covered in sweat. My tunic is plastered to my chest and back, and I can feel my hair sticking to my forehead where it’s escaped from my topknot.
I’m just about to head to the locker room whensomething makes me pause—a prickling awareness at the back of my neck, like someone’s watching me.
I turn, scanning the area near the athletics building.
And there she is.
Poppy stands at the edge of the field, her cloak rustling in the breeze. The golden sunlight catches her lavender hair, making it shine, and she’s wearing that nervous expression I’ve come to recognize—and low-key adore.
Goddess, I really want to kiss her again.
A few of the other players watch me as I grab my bag and towel and jog over to her, unable to keep the smile off my face. “Hey, Brains. What are you doing all the way out here? Shouldn’t you be at dinner?”
Her cheeks flush pink, and she adjusts her glasses, looking anywhere but at me. “I was... looking for you.”
“Yeah?” I set my bag down and run a hand over my damp hair. I really need a bath. “Everything okay?”
“Yes. I mean, sort of. I just...” She takes a breath, twining her fingers together in front of her. “Can we talk for a minute?”
“Of course.” I gesture toward one of the benches near the field. “Wanna sit?”
She nods, and we walk over together. I try not to notice how small she feels next to me or how the autumn breeze plays with the hem of her skirt, teasing me as the fabric brushes along her legs, which are clad in dark tights.
Focus, Vandermere.
We sit, and I turn to face her, giving her my full attention. “What’s up?”
Poppy fidgets with a strand of her hair, wrapping it around her finger. “Professor Silvermoon asked me to do something for her. She needs me to go to Faunwood this weekend—it’s a village about a day’s travel from here—to pick something up from her sister for the ball.”
“Faunwood,” I repeat, trying to place it. I know it sounds familiar.
Then I remember.
Ma and Pa took me there for Yule once when I was a boy. I’m not sure how old I was—ten, maybe? We went to the little shops and ate way too much food and stayed at the inn, and it was a perfect holiday. One of the last before Ma got sick.
I try to push the wave of sadness away, focusing on Poppy again. “Yeah, I know of it. Pretty rural, right?”
