Candidate (The Black Mage #3)

Fire? In an arena of sand? Overconfident fools. Every time they missed, their castings went out the second they hit the floor. Not to mention the boys’ aim was beyond sloppy. I called up another globe the second I caught my breath and focus, but it was hardly needed.

Still, I was getting tired of the chase. I could run like this all day, but it was clear Merrick wasn’t going to stop. I had figured I would lose him to others but the boy just wouldn’t give up. Even if he was slower and weaker, I had to take him out. Sooner or later someone else would try to engage me in a fight, and I couldn’t have Merrick as a distraction. Already he had caused me to lose focus, twice.

It was time to fight back.

I kept running my random course back and forth down the field until I was sure Merrick and I were far enough from the worst action at the center of the arena. I looked to the stadium wall, panting, and then turned my back to it, facing the highborn pest.

“Let’s do this,” I growled.

The boy stopped running, hand raised for another fireball, great globs of sweat dripping from his brow as he paused. He couldn’t hear me, but something must have shown in my eyes because I saw him take a step back.

This is for the mock battle in Port Langli. I dropped my shield and my magic shot out like a bird of prey, a harsh whirl of shadow and the glimmer of metal in the sun.

For a moment his shield held, and then my sword broke the barrier and embedded itself in Merrick’s side. Another soared across the sand and the mage raised his arms, shouting surrender before my blade had even reached its target.

I dropped the casting before it could finish. Both blades disappeared and the boy collapsed, clutching his wound with a gasp as a red-robed healer raced out from our side of the arena.

I wondered if any of my family had watched me just win my first bout. The audience faces towering the stadium seats looked to be little more than tiny specks of yellow and brown in the hazy afternoon rays.

Thwap!

I cried out in surprise as a sudden, biting pain tore across my thigh. I just barely managed to call upon my shield as a storm of arrows rained down from above. My casting flickered and held while I examined my leg with an angry self-lecture. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why had I let my vanity get the best of me? I should have thrown up my shield the second Merrick surrendered, not preened like some foolish first-year over her first victory.

I gingerly pushed on the shaft, testing the arrow’s depth. Ow, ow, owwww. It had embedded itself deep. And it burned like someone had stuck a white-hot poker into my flesh. Perhaps they had. It wasn’t uncommon for mages to heat arrowheads before firing. It took more magic to cast, but if they hit, the cut was more effective than without.

The searing pain was enough to make me bite down on my lip, hard. I had plenty of practice with years of injury and pain casting but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. And the skin around the entry was already starting to swell. There was no way I could pull the head out without making the injury more at risk for infection, or bleeding out in the field which was a worse fate than the first.

Which means you are going to have to fight with the arrow in. It was on my right leg, too.

I looked up and watched as three candidates appeared clutching bows—for the moment, not shooting. They didn’t need to just yet. I already knew what they were going to do, what I would have done if I were the hunter instead of the prey.

They were going to corner me against the wall. Shooting a quick glance to my left I saw two more approaching. Five on one. The odds were not in my favor.

I tested my weight on my leg and cringed. There was no way I could run fast enough to cut across the right in time. Not limping and hobbling like an old woman.

The leg was not the worst place to get shot, but it sure would have been nice if they hit my arm instead. An arm didn’t stop me from running.

Well, I had been saving my magic for a reason. Running away for the first fifteen minutes had kept me from expelling as much magic as the others. I hoped the ones cornering me had used a lot.

“All to her barrier!” one of the men shouted. “Break it!!!”

I dug my heels in and held as the five mages threw out a large gust of fire. The crackle and burn of flames against my shield while it slowly faded lighter and lighter. I would not be able to hold on forever. I could already feel the raging heat warming my flesh.

I couldn’t get cooked alive, but fortunately for me the others’ fighting had weakened their stamina quite a bit. A minute before my shield shattered their casting receded.

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