“A fatal blow,” he finally said. “A candidate hasn’t landed a fatal blow on me in at least fifty years.”
“There’s a reason for that, General,” a voice rang out, and I whipped my head around as Dune stepped into the ring. His eyes narrowed, and spots of angry color rose high on his cheekbones as he jabbed a finger in my direction. “You’re far too experienced to be bested by a candidate, but Adara hasn’t been fighting fair. She’s been cheating this entire time, and I can prove it!”
5
Adara
“Cheating?” I whirled to face Dune properly, my hands balling into fists in response to the unwarranted accusation. “What are you talking about?”
Dune bared his teeth as he stalked up to me. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of it before,” he said, his hand darting out. His fingers closed around the chain I’d tucked beneath my tunic shirt and leather breastplate, and he pulled out the protection amulet my late father had left me. My skin turned ice cold—I’d never taken it off in my life, and it hadn’t occurred to me to remove it before the tryouts. Had wearing it given me some kind of advantage?
“She’s been wearing this primal stone the entire time,” he told the General, shaking the blue-white in his direction. “It’s the only thing that explains why she’s so much stronger and faster than the rest of us.”
“Primal stone?” I repeated, confused. I’d never even heard of a primal stone—what was he talking about? “This is a protection amulet—there’s no way it could have given me extra strength or speed. Let go of it!”
I tried to pry the chain from Dune’s grip, but he yanked hard, and it broke from around my neck. Smirking, he took a step in the general’s direction, the amulet dangling from his fist.
“Let’s see if you can use your super speed and strength now,” he taunted.
“Give it back, you lowlife!” I lunged forward with my hand outstretched, unleashing every bit of fury I had within me. Something hot bloomed in my chest as I moved, surging out of me, and before I even knew what was happening, a gout of fire burst from my hand and barreled straight toward Dune.
Dune yelped, diving out of the way. The stream of fire shot past him, narrowly missing the General, who’d gone ramrod stiff. His eyes were glassy, disfigured face frozen with fear. The audience who’d been standing by to watch the tryouts screamed as the flames slammed into the earth right in front of them, setting the grass ablaze. Within seconds a fire was raging through the field, and fae were running in all directions, trying to get away.
I stood stock still as I took in all the commotion, shock rooting me to the spot. The scent of burning grass and flesh singed my nostrils, the screams of fae all around me assaulting my eardrums. How was this happening? Had that fire really come from me?
This is impossible,I thought numbly even as the fire raged around me.
“Put that fire out!” the general roared, snapping out of his fugue first. Dune sprang into action at the command, racing toward the flames. He raised his arms to the sky, and a wave of earth surged from the ground at his command. He used the soil to quash the flames, preventing them from spreading further. A few feet away, several fae had caught fire and were rolling in the grass and beating at their clothing, trying to put it out. The urge to help them seized me, and I took a few steps in their direction.
But before I could go any further, the general appeared in front of me.
“Not so fast,” he growled, but before he could grab me, roots burst from the ground and wrapped around his ankles. Instinctively, I leaped out of his reach and spun around to see Mavlyn behind me, partially hidden in the crowd. Her arms were outstretched, and sweat beaded on her brow as she used her magic to hold the significantly more powerful general.
“Get out of here, Adara!” she shrieked. “I’ll cover you!”
I glanced back to see General Slaugh sprawled on the ground. More roots burst from the dirt, snagging at the general’s arms and legs, trying to hold him. He roared in anger, ripping at them, and the terrifying noise snapped me out of my shock and spurred me into action. Turning away, I sprinted for the equestrian arena. Mavlyn’s horse, Butterfly, was still there, tied to a post, though she was stomping her hooves nervously at all the commotion. Refusing to think too hard about it, I untied her, leaped onto her back, and dug my heels into her flanks.
Butterfly sprang into motion, and I clung to her back as we cantered through the field, leaping over fleeing fae and dodging burning patches of grass. A few soldiers tried to stop us, snatching futilely at Butterfly’s reigns, but she was too fast, and in no time we’d cleared the field.
The mare surged into a full gallop as we hit the main road, and I gave her free rein to run, wanting to put as much distance between us and the general as possible. The wind ripped and tugged at my hair as we sped up and down the hills, like an extension of the general’s grasping hands, and for the first ten minutes I kept glancing back, certain I’d see pursuers catching up at any moment. But no one was following—the soldiers must have been too busy trying to contain the chaos, and possibly dealing with wounded as well. Guilt twisted in my chest as I recalled the fire racing across the field. That had beenmydoing.
But how? I didn’t understand how that fire could have possibly come from me. I was a water fae, and an impotent one at that. It should be completely impossible for me to wield fire—water and fire were incompatible elements, and no fae in the history of our race had been born with the ability to wield both. Not to mention that I didn’t have any fire fae in my family tree—they’d been driven to extinction nearly three thousand years ago, when the dragons had invaded our realm.
Could the fire have been trapped in the primal stone—if that’s what the amulet had truly been? But no, the fire had surged from my hands, not from the stone, which Dune had been holding. I’d felt it,seenit—the fire had been an extension of my fury, and Dune had been my target.
As we crested yet another hill, Fenwood Village finally came into view. The sight of the stone houses nestled at the edge of the forest sent a surge of relief through me, and I tugged on the reins, signaling for Butterfly to slow her pace. We entered the village at a trot, and Butterfly started toward Mavlyn’s home, but I tugged on the reins again, guiding her toward my house instead. The villagers I passed sent me alarmed looks—my hair was probably a wild mess, and I knew Butterfly’s flanks were lathered in sweat. But I ignored the questions on their faces. I needed to get to Mother, to tell her what happened. Surely she would have an explanation for all of this.
Not wanting to leave Mavlyn’s horse neglected, I rubbed Butterfly down as best as I could, then tied her up in our yard and rushed into the house.
“Adara!” Mother cried as I slammed the door behind me, my heart still pounding hard in my chest. She’d been tending to a bubbling pot of porridge on the wood stove, but she abandoned it now, anger blazing in her green eyes as she advanced on me.
“Where have you been?” she demanded, jabbing her wooden stirring spoon in my direction. Flecks of hot porridge spattered my sweat-stained skin, but I barely felt it. “Sneaking out of the house before sunrise, without even leaving a note behind—how could you? You’ve had me worried sick!”
“Mother, please, I’m sorry.” I put my hands on her shoulders and looked her square in the eye. “I know you’re angry right now, but I need you to let me speak before the general and his men get here. They’re coming for me.”
Mother’s skin went ashen beneath her copper complexion. “General Slaugh?” she asked, dawning horror in her eyes. “Please, Adara, tell me you didn’t go to the tryouts. Tell me that isn’t where you’ve been all day.”
I swallowed hard trepidation rising in my throat. “I didn’t just go to the tryouts, Mother. I took part in them.”
