A muscle in his jaw ticks and for half a second I think he might let it go, but then he adjusts the strap of his eyepatch, rolls his shoulders once, and stands.
“Are you sure you don’t want more theory first?” I offer as he steps up to the front, giving him the chance to back down even though I already know he won’t take it.
“I prefer learning with my hands.” He grins, lifting them as he stops in front of me, close enough that I have to tip my chin to keep his stare. “Listening’s for people who can’t keep up.”
Up close, he’s taller than I realised, older too, the lines around his mouth cut deep, and the skin beneath his eyepatch is pulled taut with scar tissue. Before I can stop myself, I wonder how he lost it, and my Threads spark as a small flicker of panic pulses through me.
Lee might not be officially trained, but that doesn’t make him harmless; none of them are. The Citadel doesn’t want Innerlanders growing more powerful than its officers, but that doesn’t mean they leave them helpless. Instead, they teach them just enough to control the basics, enough to bring down an Outerlander without blinking.
And although their magic is rough, unrefined compared to mine now, I’ve watched them train, rough doesn’t mean weak?—
Heat lashes across my cheek as flames suddenly scream toward my face, fast and scorching.
Stumbling across the tent, I curse as they catch the ends of my curls, the bitter stink of burning hair filling my nose.
“What the hell are you doing?” I yell, slapping at my sweater as glowing embers chew through the wool, leaving tiny blackened holes beneath my frantic hands.
“What does it look like?” Taking a step forward, he sparks a lighter in his hand. “I’m demonstrating."
My jaw stiffens and the rhythm in my chest kicks up so hard I can hear it drumming in my ears. “Thisisn't what I meant by demonstrating?—”
Lee throws again, but his fire splits in midair, half of it tearing straight for me, the other half blazing toward the roof, toward the dry potato sacks that have been woven together to hide us from Serrane’s dragons.
He’s fucking crazy.
Gritting my teeth, I throw out both hands, releasing my Threads. Half of them yank at the air, dragging it into a shield around me, the other hooks for moisture, hurling it up at the roof before his Threads can set the whole damn tent alight.
My arms strain under the pressure and my focus is so split that I don’t see the next one coming until it’s already there.
A fireball slams into the support pole inches from my stomach and the force knocks me back, but the flame ricochets, spinning wild straight for a girl at the front.
Shit.
Panting hard, I drop the shield and snap my hand sideways, sending air surging out in a hurried gust My magic smashes into the ball of fire seconds before it reaches her, knocking Lee’s flames sharply off course so they shoot through the canvas opening and crash into a pile of cabbages outside.
They burst with a wet, miserable thud.
Spinning back around, my eyes widen in disbelief when I see Lee still stalking toward me.
“What’s wrong?” he mocks. “Scared?”
“Yes!” I admit. “Scared you’re going to fucking kill someone.”
Magic burns at my fingertips, a pulsing pressure crawling up my arms, spreading through my veins and ready to break loose.
Shit. I quickly scan the space. The recruits are all watching now, leaning in. Waiting to see what I do next, how I lead, how I handle Lee when he’s clearly trying to embarrass me in front of everyone.
I don’t want to hurt him. This wasn’t supposed to go like this.
But then his hand lifts again and something inside me cracks wide open.
Magic surges down my arms before I can stop it, my muscles lock and my arm lifts as I force a blast of air through the tent with so much power that half the sacks from the extension blast free.
Lee’s mouth drops open?—
and suddenly he’s airborne.
Gasps erupt in front of me as he hurtles backward.
