try to pivot to avoid the dragon, but I’m too damn slow.
The massive illusion slams into me from behind, its sharply taloned feet pinning me to the fucking dirt.
No!
I grunt and snarl, trying to wriggle out from under the pin. But I just can’t manage it.
From somewhere above me, a buzzer rings, and a second later, the weight holding me down vanishes. I roll over onto my back to see that the three boxer dudes are gone too. Groaning, I haul my aching body up from the ground, frustration making my blood boil.
I suppose I should be proud of myself for lasting as long as I did when someone was making it harder for me than for everyone else—and given that one of those two mages we eavesdropped on was from the school of illusion magic, it makes sense he’d be able to sabotage this challenge for me.
But fuck if I’m not pissed as all hell. I would’ve won that thing if it’d been fair. I just know it. Combat is my favorite way to use magic, and the thing I’m best in.
Someone’s gonna pay for this.
The student from Syren is declared the winner, which only makes me more furious. After the results are announced and the spectators start to clear out, I’m ready to storm right into Hardwick’s office and tell him in no uncertain terms just what kind of shady shit some of the other schools are up to.
In fact, I almost march off to do that before Asher stops me and insists I get someone to look at my burned shoulder.
I’m not the only contestant who’s sporting an injury, but mine are by far the worst. My wrist hurts suspiciously, like I sprained it, my shoulder’s burnt, I’ve got scraped knees and shallow claw marks on my back from where the dragon nicked me, and my eye is swelling up from a punch I took from one of the boxers.
“You look badass,” Asher promises me.
Uh huh. Sure.
By the time the nurses take care of my injuries, which are light enough that they’ll heal by the time we get to the next trial, I’ve calmed down somewhat. Which I think was Asher’s plan.
I can’t just go busting into Hardwick’s office, as much as I want to. I have no evidence of the sabotage, just my own suspicions and what I saw happening to me compared to what was happening to everyone else—and that’s just circumstantial at best. I’d look like a sore loser, and like hell will I have it getting out that the Unpredictable contestant can’t handle losing.
Since it’s too late to go to Hardwick, the only other option is to keep pushing myself and make sure I don’t lose the next competition.
In the days after the combat trial, I throw myself even harder into my training and preparation. I can tell everyone’s a little worried about how focused I am—even Kendal.
Not that she’d ever say anything to me about it. She may have fallen in with a group of pushy mean girls, but Kendal’s timid as a mouse. I can’t help but wonder if it’s because of her family. When parents pressure you to be a certain way, either you become exactly that way to an extreme or you swing the other way, and Kendal, I think, swung the other way. She’s so non-competitive that she’s scared of even upsetting someone in a discussion.
Fun, how parents mess us up, right?
The guys try to get me to eat regularly and get plenty of sleep, and I know that technically I do, but it never feels like enough. My brain’s constantly rushing, trying to figure out what could be thrown at me next and how to overcome it.
Two weeks fly by faster than I can believe, and the weather is warmer by the time the fourth Trial arrives. Sun shines down brightly as the seven other contestants and I head out to the quad in tense silence.
Despite being a ball of nerves and stress, I’ve managed to learn and remember all their names—Jack, Ryan, Leah, Julia, Nicholas, Eden, and Zachary. I’m oddly proud of myself for that, especially considering they only come to our school for the few days surrounding each trial, and the whole event is usually such a whirlwind that I barely get to talk to them.
I try to focus on all the positive things Cam and Asher said this morning as they gave me a little pep talk, but as soon as Hardwick begins describing