Jade
“It doesn’t make sense.”
Evie’s been saying a variation of this for the entire walk from Flame & Dominion to the Scorched Circles.
“Oliver wouldn’t leave without telling me.” She shakes her head, her auburn hair whipping around her face.
“So what do you think happened?” My question comes out strangled.
“I think Oliver found out a secret he wasn’t supposed to know, and it has to do with Thad’s Advanced Studies course, and that Thad took him.”
She’s so close to the truth that the guilt in my chest turns sharp enough to cut.
“Have you told anyone?” I manage.
“Who would I tell? The Council?” She laughs bitterly. “Either they’re incompetent, or they’re covering up the truth. Neither option makes me trust them.”
I glance around nervously, searching for Helen’s recording orbs.
There are none. But with Michael’s temporal recreation ability…
“Evie,” I say quietly. “You need to be careful.”
Anger flashes in her eyes, but she clamps her jaw shut and says nothing more as we follow the path to the volcanic slope.
When we reach the base of the Scorched Circles, Kieran’s standing at the entrance to the Ember Ring, scanning us with his usual intensity.
Beside him, looking out of place in her tailored coat and elegant posture, is Helen Finchman.
Seven recording orbs drift around her.
“Why’s she here?” Evie mutters.
“Good question.” I watch the orbs, my nails pressing half-moons into my palms with every rotation.
Kieran throws one of his daggers in the air, catches it, and the chatter dies.
“Councilwoman Finchman has an announcement.”
Helen steps forward. “Thank you, Professor Cross. I’ll keep this brief.
” She gestures at her orbs. “Due to Councilman Aldridge’s recreation ability being weakened in the Scorched Circles because of the overlapping magical signatures, we decided it would be prudent for me to document all combat training sessions. ”
The blood drains from my face.
If my lightning slips even once, if there’s even a flicker of silver in my flames, it won’t be a matter of hoping no one noticed or counting on Logan’s compulsion to make them forget. Because it will be recorded, becoming permanent evidence that can never be erased.
“Any questions?” Helen asks brightly.
No one raises their hand. What are we supposed to ask?
Hey, Councilwoman, if I accidentally reveal impossible magic that marks me as a goddess-chosen freak, will you let me see the footage before the Council hauls me away for experimentation?
“Wonderful.” She steps back, her orbs repositioning themselves so they float around us like silent, watching sentinels. “Please proceed, Professor Cross.”
Kieran nods curtly and looks us over. “There are two more weeks of the tournament. Three wins are required to pass. For those with only one win so far…” He pauses, his eyes drifting to Elizabeth, Sam, Evie, and two others.
“Today will determine if you’ll have kitchen and grounds duty next semester. ”
I have two wins so far. Two more rounds to go. One more win, and I’m off the hook next semester.
“Jade and Evie,” Kieran says after announcing all the other pairings. “Fury Loop. You’re last.”
Of course we are.
The matches before ours blur together. Nina takes down Elizabeth in the Siphon Sphere with ruthless efficiency. Vera destroys Felix in the Smoke Spire. Sam barely pulls off a win against Rebecca in the Void Pit.
Finally, Kieran calls our names again.
“Jade. Evie. You’re up.”
We climb the carved steps with Kieran leading the way, the rest of our classmates trailing behind us.
Sixty feet across, the Fury Loop’s burnt red stone is scarred with cracks from decades of people losing control. The moment Evie and I step inside, the air becomes thicker and charged, pressing against my skin like it’s testing me.
Across from me, Evie’s hands are clenched into fists at her sides, a wild look in her eyes that I’ve never seen before.
“First to yield or stay down for five seconds loses,” Kieran calls from the sidelines. “Begin.”
For a moment, neither of us moves.
Then Evie throws a fireball.
It’s stronger than I expected—faster and more precise. I barely dodge in time, rolling to the side as heat scorches past my shoulder.
I throw a fireball back, weak and poorly aimed. Evie deflects it with a small heat shield she calls around her hand and advances, her movements sharp and aggressive.
“Fight back,” she snarls. “Stop holding back and fight me.”
She hurls another fireball, and I dodge, but not fast enough.
The edge of her flames catches my arm, and all I can feel is the weight of every lie I’ve told her, every time I watched her hope for news about Oliver, and every moment I pretended to be her friend while hiding that I helped turn her brother to ash.
For one terrifying second, silver crackles along my fingertips.
I look at Helen’s orbs immediately. They’re still circling, still recording. Did they catch it? Did she see?
Helen’s expression is stone.
Evie’s fist connects with my jaw.
I stumble backward, stars exploding across my vision. She’s on me before I can recover, fire blazing around her hands, her face twisted with rage.
“Oliver trusted you,” she growls, the words hitting harder than any punch. “He asked you to the ball. He wanted to be with you. Now he’s gone, and you’ve been acting like you don’t even care.”
She throws another fireball, and this one hits me square in the chest.
I go down hard, the breath knocked out of me, pain radiating through my ribs. But before I can get up, heat slams into me from all sides, a translucent dome forming around me.
A heat shield. Evie’s specialty.
The air turns scorching, pressing in from every direction like I’m trapped inside an oven. Sweat pours down my face, my lungs burning with each breath. I can’t see through the shimmering waves of heat, can’t find Evie, can’t do anything but try not to pass out.
I throw my own fire, trying to push back against the heat, but Evie’s shield is strong.
“Evie,” I choke out, but she either can’t hear me, or she doesn’t want to.
Through the wavering heat, her face flickers into view. Tear tracks cut through the soot on her cheeks. Her mouth is open, her chin shaking, and she’s not even looking at me anymore.
The heat intensifies. Black spots dance at the edges of my vision. Her shield is cooking me, suffocating me, boiling the moisture from my skin and stealing the air from my lungs.
Move. You have to move.
I force myself to roll, to crawl, to drag my body across the scorched stone to the edge of Evie’s shield. Every inch is agony as the heat follows me, pressing closer, stealing what’s left of my oxygen.
I’m drowning in heat. It’s searing my lungs, and my eyeballs feel like they’re going to melt out of my skull.
I can’t even bring myself to open my mouth to beg Evie to stop, to tell her that even though it shouldn’t be possible for a witch to be killed with fire magic, I think she’s managing to do just that.
Then, the gray clouds above us begin to churn. The pressure in the air changes, electricity building in the atmosphere with a charge that makes my hair stand on end.
No. Not here. Not with everyone watching. Not with Helen watching.
But Evie’s heat shield is crushing me. I can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t do anything except feel the storm grow stronger overhead.
Lightning flashes in the clouds.
My vision’s going dark. The heat shield has become a cage, and Evie shows no signs of dropping it.
Maybe this is what I deserve. Maybe girls who help kill people, burn the evidence, and lie about it to their best friend don’t get to scream for help when the fire catches up to them.
The thought splits me down the middle.
Silver lightning arcs down from the clouds, brilliant and blinding, but it doesn’t connect with me. Evie’s shield is so strong that I’m not sure it even could connect with me.
Instead, it strikes one of Helen’s recording orbs with a deafening boom.
The orb explodes.
The heat shield falters in time for me to see the electricity travel from orb to orb in a cascade of destruction, each one shattering in a burst of golden sparks as the current jumps between them.
Everyone screams and dives for cover.
I suck in a desperate breath of cool air, my lungs screaming with relief.
“Everyone out!” Helen screams through the chaos. “Clear the circles. Now!”
Kieran’s already moving, positioning himself between us and the smoking remains of the orbs. “Down the steps! Move!”
Evie stumbles backward, our eyes meet, and she looks away. She won’t meet my eyes again as we hurry down the carved volcanic steps with everyone else.
At the base of the mountain, we gather around the Ember Ring, clustering in nervous groups.
Helen stands apart, not an orb in sight. Her hands are clasped behind her back, but there’s tension in her shoulders.
Does she know? Did she see?
I scan her face for any hint that she connected the dots between my silver-crackling fingertips and the lightning that destroyed her surveillance system, but her brown eyes give nothing away.
Evie positions herself on the opposite side of the group from me, her arms wrapped around herself like she’s trying to hold herself together. Soot and tear tracks streak her face, and she’s trembling hard.
Kieran silences the nervous chatter. “Due to the external interference, Jade and Evie’s match is suspended.”
“Suspended?” Vera steps forward. “So, who wins?”
“Neither.” His gaze sweeps over the group. “The match was interrupted before either combatant yielded or stayed down.”
Relief floods through me, followed by guilt. Because if neither of us wins, Evie’s at 1-3 and will be stuck with kitchen and grounds duty next semester.
Given everything that’s happened these past few weeks, kitchen and grounds duty is far from the worst thing in the world. But still, no one wants kitchens and grounds duty. Especially not Evie, who’s been venting for weeks about how it would take time away from her studies.
Felix is next to Evie in seconds, forcing a smile as he reaches for her.
“However.” Kieran unsheathes a blade, glares at Felix, and Felix steps back. “Given the exceptional circumstances and both combatants demonstrating significant magical ability, the match will count as a win for both.”
Vera scowls. “You can’t do that.”
“My circles,” Kieran says, low enough that everyone closest to him steps back. “My rules.”
“But—”
“We have time before lunch to settle this in the Mirror Vault.” He examines his dagger, then looks back up at Vera, his gaze sharp enough to cut.
Her jaw clenches, but she steps back.
His eyes sweep the group, and he points the tip of the blade at us. “Anyone else?”
Silence.
“Good.” He nods once. “Jade, you’re at 3-2. Evie, 2-3. Next week will determine final standings. Class dismissed.”
We begin dispersing, heading to the main building for lunch.
I’m about to approach Evie when Helen stops me cold.
“Jade. A moment.”
Static crawls up my wrists, and I curl my fingers into my palms to kill it.
She saw. She’s going to whisk me away to the Council’s torture chambers and I’m never going to see Logan again or have a chance to tell Evie the truth or get in contact with T or tell my family goodbye.
I turn slowly, forcing my expression into what I hope is innocent and confused rather than terrified and guilty.
Helen approaches, and up close, I can see the tension around her eyes and the tightness in her jaw. But when she speaks, her tone is so calm it’s almost gentle.
“That was quite a match.”
I blink. “I... thank you?”
“I now understand why Professor Morgrave offered you additional assistance.” She tilts her head slightly, waiting for my reaction.
I stare at her, bracing myself for an accusation about the lightning, a demand for answers, and the end of everything.
It doesn’t come.
Instead, Helen’s expression softens into what might be sympathy. “You’re struggling, Jade. Your magical foundation is weak, your control is inconsistent, and your combat instincts are...” She pauses. “Underdeveloped.”
Wow. Tell me how you really feel.
“Professor Morgrave saw a student in danger of failing,” she continues. “A student who needed extra support to succeed at an institution as demanding as Blaze Academy. His decision to give you that book makes perfect sense.”
I don’t know whether to be relieved or insulted.
“I’m working on it.” I nod, aiming for humble acceptance. “Training extra. Reading what I can.”
“See that you do,” she says, sharper now. “I’d hate to see a student with potential fail because she couldn’t keep up.”
Potential.
The word echoes strangely, but before I can ask what she means, she’s already turning away.
“Take care of yourself, Jade. These are difficult times for everyone.”
Then she’s striding to the main building, leaving me alone at the base of the volcano.
The storm swirls inside me, restless and hungry. But I shove it down and head to the dining hall, where I’ll have to sit across from Evie and address whatever the hell just happened in the Fury Loop.
One match survived.
A hundred more lies to go.