But I could feel the drain already. The fire was taking control of me. My emotions were taking my focus.
I steadied my breath and said: “I still blame Thalen more.”
She smiled. “Oh, honey. He was so good to me. The way he pinned me against the stairwell wall. Touched me like I was his.”
Liar. She had to be lying.
“I’m sure if you’d actually given him what he needed,” she cooed, “he wouldn’t have come crawling to me.”
I screamed and summoned everything I had.
Light exploded from my hands; wild and vicious and bright enough to blind. The mirrors flared, catching the fire as if it arced toward her.
Marla barely flinched, though I heard gasps from the crowd.
She lifted her arms and summoned a massive wind, biting wind and twisted my flames backward, the heat reversing midair and charging straight toward me.
I raised fire as quickly as I could react, not that fire shields were especially powerful, but at least they did work against fire magic. But she was faster, and I left a gap on my right side, and her fire hit me, not all of it, but enough.
Pain licked across my arm. I stumbled, breathing hard.
“You’re unstable and sloppy. You have no control.” Marla chastised.
I launched another strike of blades made out of fire, sharp and screaming as they tore through the air and toward her.
She dodged them.
Wind erupted from her hands again like a shockwave. It slammed into my chest and flung me backward.
My back cracked against the mirror wall.
The impact sent stars bursting across my vision. My lungs locked. No air.
Somewhere through the ringing in my ears, I heard Professor Hog shout that the combat was over.
Then my knees gave out, and I hit the floor.
She stepped toward me, still smiling. “Dragontail isn’t for people like you. You’re a court girl in a soldier’s costume.”
I gasped. Choking.
Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think.
“Go back to Emberkeep.”
I pushed myself to my knees and stood slowly, legs trembling. My arm burned where the fire had lashed me.
And I looked every single person in the eye.
Because I might’ve lost, but I was still standing.
Second- and third-years watched me. Silent. Measured.
Lorik Draventh and Rory Rey stood just past the threshold, arms crossed, leaning against the wall like they had been waiting for me.
“You call that combat, Princess?” Lorik said, with a dry, cutting tone. “This is not Emberkeep. You need to control your emotions and use your magical traces in combination with your fire.”
“She doesn’t have any magical traces, Lorik. Haven’t you seen?” Rory added with a mocking tone.
