our way, after seeing us standing there talking for so long instead of moving onward to the next obstacle course. “If it makes you feel better, I expect to get punched a whole lot this semester too.”
Darshan grimaced. “It doesn’t. It really, really doesn’t.”
Chapter 10
“You’re screwing with me,” Acubens said, right before aiming a punch at me. I deflected it off my forearm, wincing. That was going to leave a bruise.
We were back in the dueling ring. Acubens had singled me out for Practical Education training every time since the first, and every time it had gone pretty similarly. I stayed on the defensive and tried to keep my injuries minor and cosmetic. Acubens, well—I hated to admit it, but I agreed with Cly on this one. By this point, I desperately wanted to grind his face into the dirt.
My forearm throbbed, along with my various half-healed scrapes and bruises. Acubens was powerful—and nasty.
“I can tell, you know,” said Acubens. “You’re toying with me, and I’m pretty sick of it.”
“Am I?” I said blandly, sneaking a glance at Aegis outside the dueling ring. As always, he watched the fight unblinkingly, with a grim sort of determination, as if it was a rightful punishment that he was honor-bound to undergo. Which was annoying, because his constant supervision meant that I couldn’t talk to Acubens properly. It wasn’t like I wanted to drag out our game. Every day gone by was another day my mom spent in danger.
“You’re up to something,” said Acubens, sounding offended. “And I’m going to crack you open like a crab and dig the secrets out of your innards.”
That was even more messed-up than his usual taunting. I tensed, ready to meet whatever new attack he had in mind. But nothing came, at least, not yet. He instead called out a defensive spell, forming a simple magical wall between us.
That was strange. Acubens usually wasn’t much for defense. I carefully pushed at the barrier, but it resisted me; Cly had continued my magic-draining regime, keeping me weakened.
Meanwhile, Acubens closed his eyes and began to chant a spell that made the hairs stand up on my arms.
Light was starting to… bend strangely around Acubens. Inky shadows coalesced around him, swelling like storm clouds. His voice went on and on, winding up his power, the air crackling dangerously with more magical energy than I’d ever seen from him.
Acubens hadn’t been joking. This was serious magic. He was putting everything he had into cracking me open, and I wasn’t sure if he cared whether I survived the process.
Eyes wide, I cursed under my breath. There was no way I could block that level of magic in my current state. And I couldn’t attack him and break his chant mid-spell—he’d made sure of that with the barrier.
I glanced outside, through the walls of the dueling ring. Aegis looked concerned, but when had his concern ever saved me? Professor Sarva looked perfectly expressionless. Most of the other students weren’t even pretending to practice anymore, watching on with gleeful voyeurism. There would be zero forthcoming help from outside.
My mind raced.
The only way to win was not to play.
I threw myself to the ground, back against the floorboards.
“One,” said Professor Sarva, watching me. “Two. Three.”
With his eyes closed and the magic crackling around him, it took a moment for Acubens to notice the count. His eyes snapped open, blazing with unearthly light.
“Four.”
I couldn’t resist. I gave him the middle finger.
“Five. Six.”
Acubens's eyes narrowed in indignation. He sped his chanting, shadows roiling around him.
“Seven. Eight.”
With a sweep of his hand, he dissolved the magical wall, leaving nothing between him and me.
“Nine.”
He stepped forward—
“Count of ten reached,” said Professor Sarva. The walls around us flickered off, and I immediately scrambled away, heart pounding. “Victory to Acubens Nightfeld.”
It clearly didn’t feel like a victory to Acubens. If anything, he looked even more pissed. The shadows still surrounded him like a billowing cloak, and they rippled and seethed in agitation.
He snapped out one final word. The shadows roared toward me like a crashing tide.
I swore. I should’ve known there was no such thing as honor amid the Great Houses. I braced myself, pulling up every bit of magic I had left into a shield, even as I knew it wouldn’t be enough. Instinctively, I shut my eyes.
But nothing hit me.
I opened my eyes, and stared. In front of me stood Arcturus Nightfeld, backlit by a magical shield of blinding light, against which the shadows hissed and crumpled to nothing.
Arcturus