Quinn and I wasted no time taking our positions across from one another.
“Begin.”
An orb of fire blasted past my face the moment the word left Felydrin’s lips. I dodged it by the skin of my teeth, shifting to the side at the last possible moment. The scent of burnt hair floated through the air, but I didn’t have a breath to check just how much damage he’d done before another blast of fire was whirling towards me. This time, I easily sidestepped and closed a bit of distance between us.
My magic was better suited to short distances, I knew that. My weakness. I wasn’t about to make it obvious to Quinn. I dashed towards him, my shadows dancing along my arms. Just before reaching him, I pivoted, aiming at his side instead of his front.
Surprise briefly flitted across his face, but he quickly steeled himself, bringing up a wave of his magic to burn away my attack. He smiled, then. “Too slow.”
He drove his elbow back into my stomach, knocking the wind from my lungs. Spinning on his heel, he shot a blast of fire straight into my chest, and I fell to my knees at the impact. The heat singed through my Consortium jacket, right down to my skin, before I could snuff it out with my shadow wreathed hands.
Luelle must have been misinformed about his improvements. Quinn was leagues better than the last time I’d faced him.
“Done already?” His lip curled into a smirk.
“Just getting started,” I bit back. I stood, my legs shaking from the hit.
Quinn let out a huff of breath and shook his head. “Suit yourself.”
Again, he struck first, this time sending sharp, hardened lances of fire barreling straight towards me. I weaved around them. One. Two. Three. Four. Each lance dodged brought me closer to him.
There.
My hand connected with his chest, and the magic I’d been collecting beneath the surface of my palm exploded outward. Shadows coiled around his neck, leaving trails of black all along his upper body. I watched him claw at his skin, choking and gasping for air.
“That’s enough, Nairu,” Felydrin called from behind.
“Yield,” I answered.
Quinn seized against my magic, his skin turning pallid. His mouth opened and closed with strangled, inaudible words. This time, it was he who fell to his knees.
“He cannot yield. Drop your magic.”
Why should he not suffer? He who made a mockery of me.
“NAIRU! STOP.”
He deserves this.
“Nairu.…” It was Elle’s voice that called me back. Her hand wrapped around my arm that made me see, truly see, what I had done to Quinn.
How had I lost control? I’d downed the entire bottle to shut Zaelos out. Was I too far gone for the potion to work? I sucked in a ragged gasp and called my magic back to me.
No, this had been my doing. Not his.
Felydrin and the other Mages swarmed Quinn, helping him to his feet and ensuring he was safe, while Elle remained by my side. “He’s going to be fine,” she said. “You’re going to be fine.”
As much as I loved Elle and appreciated her stepping in, I needed space to breathe. I didn’t want to talk about how I’d nearly lost my mind back in the training room and murdered Quinn in cold blood. I didn’t want to think about how it’d been my own doing, Zaelos sleeping soundly in the corner of my mind. There was no one to blame for my actions except for myself, and that made what happened so much harder to swallow.
Zaelos would be in utter bliss, mocking me for my failures if he uncovered this specific memory. I could hear it in his voice, clear as a bell—not so holy now, are you, Saintess?
He’d be right to say it, too. As irritable as Quinn was, he hadn’t slighted me in a way that merited his death. I’d taken a heavy blow from him, but my emotions had boiled far beyond what was a normal reaction. My pride wounded, embarrassment warming my cheeks, rage had exploded inside of me until the only thing I could taste was a thirst for revenge.
My friends had been right. I was too unpredictable.
Stepping out of the Mages Consortium and into the fresh evening air was an instant relief. I slumped down against the outer wall, tilting my head to the sky to feel the last rays of sunlight against my face. When the warm orange and pink tones inevitably faded into the deep blue of night, I’d have to face myself. But for these few remaining moments of the in-between, I would allow myself peace.
Loud, heavy footsteps sounded to my left, but their rise and fall was far too familiar for me to bother opening my eyes. The low-pitched grunt of the man plopping down next to me confirmed who I’d already predicted as the interloper of my last quiet moments of daylight.
