The Culling Trials 3 (Shadowspell Academy #3)(34)

She gave me a dry look, as though asking, He kissed you and now you believe in him?

I was thankful she didn’t ask me outright. It seemed shallow to blame my lack of judgement on my continuously pounding headache.

Pete snarled, snorted, and trotted to his lane, kicking at the dirt with his back feet as though prepping for a race. Wally gave me a slow wave before doing the same, minus the dirt kicking.

I faced off against the woman in soft pink before purposely placing my feet on either side of the lane. The scene around me dizzied, but I ignored it.

Play the player.

“You love that color, don’t you?” I asked in an easy tone, my feet magically stuck to the ground. I didn’t know if it was a preliminary measure, keeping everyone put as the challenge got underway, or I’d have to leave my boots behind when I charged her. “Not because of the actual color, but because that color tells people certain things about the wearer. It makes you seem more feminine, which people read as softer, gentler, more eager to please.” The woman’s expression didn’t change. “But I bet you’re an old battle-axe under that godawful robe, aren’t you?”

Her lips pressed together and her eyes tightened at the edges.

A farm spread out around us, and with a start, I realized it was my farm back home, my house hunkering in the distance and the barn not far away. No cows grazed in the fields, though, and no horses flicked their tails in their pens.

“Ah. Trying to make me homesick?” I guessed. It was working. At least the place wasn’t burning like in my dream.

“More comfortable, actually,” she responded in a flat, dry voice. “But Shades are always comfortable, are they not?”

“No, but it’s interesting that you think so.”

“You must make contact with me with three spells,” she went on as though reading from a rule book. “The types of spells do not matter. They simply must get past my defenses. In addition, you will need to counteract my attacks. Any questions?”

“Yeah. What happens when your opponent doesn’t have a wand and can’t hit you with a spell?”

“You lose.”

“Right.”

“And…”

A small chime sounded. My feet came unstuck. She brandished her wand like a quick draw and flicked her wrist at me.

But I was already off and running.

I dove under the beam of magic, rolled, nearly stood, and realized she’d already gotten off another shot. I flung myself to the side, hit an invisible wall, and rolled the other way as a flare of green dug into the ground at my side.

“How many spells have to hit me before I lose?” I grunted out, popping up and ripping out my knife. I sliced at the invisible wall, throwing up sparks. It didn’t help. I was stuck in this ten-foot-wide space that was part of the game. .

“As many as you can stand.” She flicked her wrist and the stream of yellow turned into a blob of yellow, spreading out to catch me.

“Good call with that spell.” I ran and jumped at the wall, hit it high with my toes, pushed off, and attempted a really cool backflip. I landed on my stomach and the air pushed out of me. “Ouch,” I wheezed.

“Spirited, this shall be enjoyable,” she murmured.

I leapt up and zagged right, drawing her fire, before pivoting. She moved her wand, expecting me to run left. Instead, I dashed right again, scraped against the wall, barely missed by the spell, and sprinted straight at her. Her eyes widened and her wand hand jerked, a muscle memory reaction, no doubt. I rolled under it, but not fast enough. The spell screamed across my shoulder, ripping away my shirt and slashing my skin.

“Ouch,” I said again. But at least it took my mind off my headache.

I bounced up, five feet away, as she swept her wand from one side to the other. A spell materialized, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to dodge it.

So I didn’t try.

Knife held out, teeth gritted, I sprinted at her and launched myself through the spell. It parted around my knife, but the sides clung to my body. It didn’t stop my forward progress.

I slammed into the mage as heat flared across my skin. It seeped down into my blood, burning so hot, I had to glance down to make sure they weren’t real flames. She landed with an oomph, then grunted when I smashed down on top of her, taller and stronger.

Without thinking, body burning, I went for her weapon, knowing that if I could get it from her, we’d be at an impasse. Or, at least, she couldn’t magically light me on fire again.

Screaming with the pain, I grabbed her wand hand and jammed my other elbow across her face. Her lips curled and her fingers loosened. I elbowed her again. And again, forcing out a whimper. As expected, she wasn’t used to physical violence.

“Let…go,” I said, banging her wand hand against the ground.

“It’ll…kill…you!”

Too late. Another elbowing made her cry out, and her fingers released their grip. The wand was in my hand before her words had properly sunk in.

The agony of the magical fire cut off, but a sharp blast of pain shot up through my hand, my arm, and into my chest. My middle turned to ice, spreading out before sinking into my limbs. I sucked in a breath, trying to let go of the wand, but I couldn’t. Like a wave pulling back to the sea, the cold dimmed before leaving my body all together.

Shaking, confused, I pushed back to standing, holding the small stick that now sent vibrations through my body. It felt…wrong, somehow. Off. Not as natural as Ethan’s wand had. But it didn’t kill me.