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She shrieked and flapped backward across the sand.

A ripple of surprise passed through the Pit. Someone laughed, startled, and someone else shouted encouragement. I thought the second voice belonged to Tamsin.

I could have hit Delphine harder. I knew enough anatomy to know exactly where to strike if I wanted to damage the wing permanently.

I did not want to cripple her.

I only wanted her to stop.

She had no intention of stopping.

She charged again, angrier now, and I met her with the staff.

For the next minute, somehow, I held my ground.

I kept my back close to the wall, shifted my feet whenever she tried to crowd me, and watched the joint of her wing instead of the frantic movement of the feathers. Each time she came in, I redirected her. Each time she pulled back, I reset my grip before she attacked again.

The staff moved constantly between us while her wings hammered against it.

My arms burned so badly that my hands had started to go numb, and every breath tore harshly through my chest, but I was still standing.

A first-year Hollow with no shift and a wooden staff was keeping a senior swan at bay in the middle of the Proving, in full view of the Council and every envoy present.

No one on that island had expected me to last this long.

Then Delphine drove one wing directly into the center of the staff with all her strength.

The wood broke.

There was no gradual splintering and no warning. It snapped cleanly in half with one sharp crack, and both pieces were knocked from my hands and sent spinning across the sand.

As the nearer half struck the ground, I saw the broken end.

The inner wood was pale and fresh.

Around the outside, however, a thin, even ring had been darkened and smoothed over with something that shone under the lights.

Wax.

Someone had cut almost all the way through the staff beforehand and then filled the cut so carefully that the damage would not show.

Checked this morning, Varga had said.

That was all the time I had to understand what I was seeing.

Delphine’s wing hit me across the ribs and threw me away from the wall.

I struck the sand hard on one shoulder. Pain shot down my arm, and before I could roll onto my back properly, she was already above me.

Her beak came down.

It cut across my collarbone, opening a long, searing line through skin and fabric. Warm blood spread across my T-shirt almost immediately.

I screamed, and somewhere above me the crowd screamed too.

I could barely separate one sensation from another. Sand pressed into my palms. White feathers filled my vision. Blood ran warm down my chest, and pain burned through my shoulder and ribs every time I tried to breathe.

Delphine stood over me with her wings raised, blood bright on her beak. She drew her head back to strike again, and this time she was aiming higher, toward my face and eyes.