Curse of Stolen Flame (Firebird, #1)

CHAPTER 24

The next day, Kindra strode into the training grounds with a mission.

The king wanted her to prove herself? Fine. She’d prove herself.

Tess was stretching her legs when Kindra entered the ring.

“I want to spar with you,” Kindra announced as she walked up. “We’ve just been doing exercises since I arrived. I want the real thing.”

Tess blinked, then smiled. “All right. If you feel ready.”

“I don’t have time to wait until I feel ready,” Kindra responded, stretching her arms over and behind her head.

The other Wielder grimaced. “I don’t suppose any of us do.”

The pair moved to a clear spot in the giant ring. On the other side, Terryn was busy sparring with a Windspinner, wielding giant masses of greenery to block against heavy gusts of wind. A small crowd was gathered around them. Most were guards, but Kindra spotted a few among them who must be nobility; their nerushmyr was plain or decorated with colors associated with their families rather than the Annalindis crest.

“We go until first burn,” Tess declared, gesturing to the trio of young men sitting off to the side. “There are Healers here.”

Kindra nodded, adrenaline pounding through her veins. Her magic thrummed to life. She sucked in a deep, grounding breath, and then—

Tess came at her like one of the fire-breathing beasts of legend.

Kindra thought she was prepared, having spent so much time sparring with her over the last week. But soldier Tess was very different from teacher Tess, and if she didn’t figure out how to adapt to the difference right now , this match would be over embarrassingly fast.

She barely managed to block Tess’s first blast with one of her own. The air between them exploded into flames. Kindra staggered back a step, the force of their magic colliding temporarily unbalancing her. But she regained her stability, taking an open stance Tess had shown her a few days ago, one that would allow her to be grounded but also agile, able to dodge and move around a battlefield with ease.

Tess did not give her time to make her own strike. As soon as the fire started to clear, she shot half a dozen arrows of flame at her, one after the other. Kindra swung her arm out and deflected four of the six with a shield of fire, but the other two changed course, dodging around her defense. She reached for them, sweat already beading on her forehead as she fought against Tess’s iron grip of control. When the other Wielder did not relent, the arrows heading straight toward her, she swung out her other fist, sending a wide blade of fire surging towards Tess low to the ground. Tess was caught off guard by it—only barely, but enough that she had to divert her focus towards dodging it. Kindra felt her hold over the darts weaken; she seized control and sent them flying to the ground.

Now, she was on the offensive. She charged forward a few steps, sending blasts at Tess from all heights and angles; some she sent in low, others she shot to the ceiling and then brought down, others she made swoop in from the sides.

Tess deflected them all, either by dodging or blocking them or wrenching control away from Kindra. And she still managed to respond with her own attacks; broad balls of inferno that had Kindra rolling across the ground to escape, slender snakes of flame that made her dance on her toes as she desperately tried to wrench them from Tess’s grasp.

She couldn’t tell how long they’d been doing this—maybe it had been minutes, maybe it had been hours. Her muscles screamed with every move she made. Sweat dripped down her face, into her mouth, her eyes. Nevertheless, her magic was singing. It was more alive than it had ever been, and perhaps she was, too.

It was like a dance, she realized as she spun on the ball of one foot, shooting her other leg out in a sweeping kick that shot a swath of fire at her opponent. She and Tess were dancing.

She watched Tess dodge, ducking low. She sent a slither of flame across the ground, so small it was hidden amongst the burning bits of ground beneath them.

Tess didn’t see it .

Kindra’s heart swelled as she realized the other Firefury had missed it, too focused on preparing her next move. Before Tess could attack, Kindra doubled the slither in size and sent it darting for her wrist.

Tess saw it then. She swore and leapt out of the way, reaching for the flame with a fist. Kindra felt the tug of Tess’s magic against her own. Strong as she was, Tess was still stronger, at least when it came to this.

Kindra had to distract her. Wildly, she shot a ball of fire at her from the other direction, large and unavoidable.

Her friend looked at her briefly then, and before she turned away, her lips curved up in the slightest of smirks. Kindra grinned back, her smile sharp as a blade as Tess moved to block the fireball, allowing Kindra to maintain control of her tiny little sliver of flame and reach up to lightly tap against her arm.

Tess yelped; Kindra let her seize the fireball and dissolve it into nothing. She leaned forward, her hands on her knees, panting. Distantly, she heard Tess call for a Healer.

Only when her heart began to slow did she look back up.

They had attracted an audience.

Terryn and his opponent must have either finished or halted their match, for they now stood off to the side, along with the crowd they’d gathered. There were others, too; some watched from the seats above the ring, having trickled in during their fight.

All of the spectators wore an expression of astonishment.

Kindra looked away from them, directing her attention back to Tess, whose arm was already healed. The red-haired woman was leaned forward, same as Kindra, face wet with sweat. And she was beaming at her.

“You are something else,” she laughed between deep gulps of air. “Holy shit. ”

Kindra gathered her strength and walked over, her legs angrily protesting with every step. “You’re something else, too,” she replied, reaching out a hand and pulling Tess upright.

“I’ve never seen brute power quite like that before.” Tess’s orange eyes were wide, amazed. “If it had been anybody else, that last move wouldn’t have worked. I could’ve easily handled both attacks. But the size of that—and you weren’t even trying, were you? ”

Kindra blushed, feeling sheepish. “No, I just knew I had to distract you.” She paused. “How long were we sparring?”

Tess laughed again, like she couldn’t quite believe what she had just witnessed. “Nearly twenty minutes, the Healer said. Everybody stopped what they were doing and came to watch about five minutes in—most matches don’t last more than ten.”

“I can see why. I’m exhausted.”

She stepped closer to Kindra, so the crowd had no chance of overhearing them. “You know, I hate to say this, because I hate the man, but—Leofric was actually onto something with all his bullshit about you being worthy. You—gods above, Kindra. You have a lot left to learn, and it could use some refinement, but damn. Most Firefuries can only dream of casting blows of that size like they’re nothing.”

Kindra’s head spun a bit at that, and she struggled to keep her smile on her face. Suddenly, she wanted to get out of the conversation.

So she turned around and faced the crowd. “You,” she declared, pointing her finger at Terryn, who paled. “I want to spar with you, tomorrow. Are you up for it?”

“Um,” the Earthwarden stammered, lacking his usual cockiness, “maybe not—”

“War is coming to Alverin,” she snapped, raking her stare over them. “You all know this. So if you are too cowardly to face me, an untrained Firefury from the outskirts of our kingdom, what will you do when an entire army marches upon us?”

“I’ll spar with you, cursebreaker,” the Windspinner that Terryn had been fighting said. The title chilled her to the bone. “It would be an honor.”

She steadied herself, gave him a curt nod. “Good. Who else? I could do four or five a day, perhaps, with breaks in between.”

A few others started volunteering. A Wavebreaker from a noble house; an Earthwarden from the guard; even Terryn ended up caving.

“Put me on the list, too,” Tess said, clapping her on the shoulder. “I want a rematch.”

And as Kindra left the training grounds that day, her hair plastered to her face with sweat and smelling of smoke, a smile crept onto her face.

A smile that persisted despite what she heard in her wake: the whispers calling her the cursebreaker, the hushed voices calling her a future queen .

How’s that, Your Majesty? She thought smugly as she made her way back to her rooms.

How’s that for proof?