"Darren!" I shrieked. "Why would you do that?"
The non-heir appeared, looking harried. "Come on, Ry, we've got to get moving."
"I can't just leave Ian here like this!"
The non-heir crooked his head to stare at me. "Ryiah, we talked about this. He'll be fine. The healers will come soon enough. We have to-"
"Well, well, if it isn't the princely leader and his assistant," a frosty voice drawled.
Darren and I almost knocked into each other in our haste to spin around. Too late. Caine was standing at the entrance of the cave, flanked by two fifth-years and Priscilla's mentor Bryce.
"Caine." Darren's voice was emotionless. "I should have known."
"Really, Darren, you think I'd just send in two defenseless third-years for you to pick off one at a time?"
"I had hoped you might. You never were known for your brains."
"Well I know you, Darren." The fifth-year smiled coldly. "I knew if I sent in two scouting parties you would send your best men after the fifth-years… But you would be too proud to stay behind when you saw a harmless pairing of third-years, even with that burn I gave you earlier. I figured you would go in alone but I see you had some sense to bring along this one as well… Not that it matters one bit since you both will be surrendering now."
"Ryiah." Darren's voice was low as he reached for his weapon. "Get behind me."
"Are you joking?" I whispered. "I'm fighting with you!"
A flash of blinding light lit up the cave and a thunderous roar filled my ears. Flames covered every inch of the rocky enclave from floor to ceiling. They stopped only inches from Darren and I. I gasped as I realized the cause.
Darren had thrust the curved end of his sickle sword into his open wound, blood spilling out across the stone floor as he cast out a barrier to hold the three fifth-years' casting back. He was pale and his defense was trembling.
Small spurts of smoke and ember were starting to break his casting's hold.
I barely had time to think before I grabbed Darren's hand and joined his magic with all the force I could summon.
"Don't-" Darren began, undoubtedly remembering what had happened during my first-year trials the last time I had attempted to pain cast.
Control, I told myself, my pain does not control my magic – I do. I thrust my right arm through the barrier, pushing it into to the hungry flames beyond. A thousand types of pain coursed through me, red-hot fire eating away at my flesh and my skin and my blood until my entire body was filled with a violent need to release.
Hysteria and agony rose up, fighting to take control of my casting. I fought them and clung to Darren with everything that I had. The flames seemed to pour right into my veins, an army of fire exploding all over my insides, drowning me.
My magic was a wild stallion raging within, rearing up against its prison of ember.
Shadows danced across my eyes, a red and orange waterfall of flame. My legs were quivering and the pain was too much. I felt the wave of fire taking control and the magic deep within me, threatening to explode—
Darren's hand tightened on my own. A sharp swell of coolness flooded my skin, erasing the fire and pain and returning me to myself.
We pushed back with magic. Together the two of us began to take one shaking step, and then another, until Blaine and his friends realized too late what was happening.
The fifth-years and Bryce hastily released their casting, but the force Daren and I had cast was too much. The four mentors were sent sprawling into the sand. Two of them were instantly knocked unconscious, colliding against a short boulder. Caine and Bryce crawled backward on their arms in an effort to escape.
Darren dropped to his knees. Our casting fell. I found myself struggling to stand. When I tried to call on my magic there was nothing left to summon.
I grabbed Darren's blade – my own lost during the chariot attacks earlier - and dragged it toward the fifth-years' leader. My legs shook so badly I stumbled halfway across, slipping with a cry as my burned hand grated against sand.
I attempted to push myself up - but the pain was too much. I couldn't do it.
Caine began to laugh, dirt and blood spilling from his mouth.
"Surrender, Caine!"
The fifth-year stopped laughing and I blinked. Three dark figures emerged from the sandstone passage behind us. As they drew closer I recognized Ella, Eve, and Ray – all of them a bit bloodied and bruised, certainly worse than when we had parted an hour before. Ray was limping and Ella favored her arm, but the three still looked heroic under the full light of sun.
They looked even better when they cornered Caine and held three curved blades to his throat.
The fifth-year spat at them and tore off his black armband.
We won.
Loud whoops filled the air. I heard – rather than saw - Darren collapse behind me.
The others ran over to check on their fallen leader. Ella found me and helped me up. I barely had time to point at the cave and murmur "Ian" before my vision, too, faded to black.
CHAPTER FOUR