Deviant Descendants (Descendants Academy #2) - Belle Malory Page 0,5

an apple, two pencils, and someone’s tattered sandal.

Before long, Riley was called.

I held my breath, watching her march across the field to the firepit, her bright red locks ablaze in the sunlight. She stood there for several seconds before jutting her arm into the blue fire. It immediately pushed her hand out.

I swallowed.

She grinned and tried to act as if it were no big deal, but I knew her better than that. An obvious twinge of disappointment filled her eyes.

“Sheridan Thorne,” Master Redtree called, and I flinched. Several groans made their way across the field.

Lovely.

“I hope the fire shoots her back to Aphrodite,” one student said, and I winced.

“I hope it burns her alive,” said another.

Their words lashed against me like a whip. I shouldn’t care what they thought, but I did. To make matters worse, Xander heard them too. “Shut your mouths, or I’ll do it for you,” he said, glaring.

Let’s get this over with.

I hurried toward the fire, stopping at the glass cage. The blue flames hissed and swished as if they were alive. Slightly hypnotized, I stuck my arm inside, ready to pull it out and return to my seat as quickly as possible.

But when I jerked back, the fire grabbed hold of me. Its flames wrapped around my wrist, cuffing me there in the spotlight. The burning sensation engulfed my entire arm, like hot grease. I ground my teeth together, feeling my skin sizzle and spark. My instincts told me to yank it out and run, because it felt as if my arm was literally being seared off. But I refused to cower. Not in front of them.

I stood as still as possible, digging my heels into the grass, trying not to let the class see how much it hurt. My eyes burned with unshed tears, but I held strong.

“No freaking way,” someone whispered.

“This has to be a joke,” said someone else.

Their whispers and comments buzzed in my ears. I blocked them out, too absorbed by the pain and confusion of what was going on. A tornado of energy swirled around me, dulling everything outside of it. Powerful magic whooshed through my body, sending little sparks of heat in every direction. The magic was searching for something. Whatever it was, I hoped it found it quick.

My arm exploded in an array of white flames. They were so bright it blinded me for a few dizzying seconds. Amazingly, I continued to stand my ground. Eventually the flames dulled, ending with one last burst of blue. My arm fell slack, but my whole body trembled.

Over. Finally.

The entire field was silent. So silent, all I heard was my own shaky breath. I looked at the crowd, a little dazed. All of their wide eyes were on me, but not on my face. Glancing down at my arm, I saw the reason for their stunned gazes.

My fingers were curled around a sleek, golden bow. A quiver of arrows was strapped to my shoulder, encrusted in glittering gems. Diamonds, sapphires, and emeralds—what was I seeing? Both pieces gleamed in the sunlight, as if the gods had personally created them.

Master Redtree slowly clapped his hands together. “Well, well.” He released a shaky breath. “Miss Thorne, you are the youngest student I’ve ever witnessed summon a soul weapon.” He continued to clap, the only one to do so. “Class, this is the student to watch out for. If summoning came that easily, fighting will too.”

Everyone was silent.

I ambled back to my spot on the grass, my new weapon in tow.

“Give it a name.” Redtree nodded to my bow and quiver. “Then it will disappear. Whenever you need your weapon, you can call it to you by name.”

I dimly nodded, still in shock.

Another student was called. Eventually, everyone refocused their attention. I continued staring at the bow in my lap, the cool metal pressed tightly against my palm, in awe. For a weapon made of gold, it felt light in my hands. I slid the strap off my arm and pulled the quiver around to inspect it, running my fingers over the encrusted jewels. Beautiful wasn’t a strong enough word. Inspired. Artful. Godlike, seemed more accurate. I wasn’t sure I was worthy of such a prized piece of weaponry. I almost didn’t want to name it, just so I could hold onto it as long as possible.

Nothing about this made any sense.

Did the Fire of Hephaestus ever make mistakes? Why me, a first year with no experience? I’d never fought or used any weapon,