‘Fuck!’ I drop straight to my knees as my most recent injury flares back to life. I should have known the bitch wouldn’t wait until it was actually time to start. The first burn begins to rise on my arm, and I wait for it to spread across my entire body. But there’s nothing. Just that single patch.

‘I’ve got her!’ Kestria yells to me.

In terms of Holden’s game, it doesn’t mean anything. I’m already on the ground. Out of it. For a naïve second, I think it’s going to be enough for them to stop attacking me. I’m wrong.

The first fireball lands only inches from where I’ve dropped.

I’m down on the ground, yes, but apparently I’m not out.

Well then. With Mattieu in my sights, I pull a dagger from its sheath and prepare to throw it at the fire wielder, only for him to blast me again as the dagger leaves my hand. It lands uselessly two feet from him.

‘Shit!’ I mutter as he prepares his next attack. ‘Llin!’ I yell out. ‘Mattieu!’

‘Sorry! Bit slow there.’

She moves to take a place in front of me, giving her a better chance of blocking me from Mattieu’s power. When two blasts come for me simultaneously, she shoots me a worried look.

‘Who the hell’s doing that?’ Llin asks.

‘Odetta!’ Kestria shouts back. ‘It’s Odetta.’

Odetta’s also a fucking flame wielder. Great. With her, Mattieu, and Zara, that’s three strong, offensive powers against us. Or rather, against me. Some of the Rettlings on the opposing team are actually trying to fight a fair game and focusing their attention on other members of our group. But not enough.

One of the Galreck Rettlings is a wind weaver and is pushing Llin with all her force, while another one is in a fistfight with Baylis. Blood is smeared over both of them already, though who it’s coming from, I can’t tell.

‘Got them!’ Grenda shouts, throwing two daggers simultaneously into the shoulders of the Galreck Rettlings. It stops the wind weaver, but not the one fighting Baylis. The way he barely flinches, it’s like he can’t even feel pain. As I watch on, my chest tightens. Not just from fear, but also something more. My throat is burning and my lungs are struggling to get any air in. It’s as though they’re filling with smoke all over again.

‘Zara!’ I cough the word out. ‘Zara.’

‘I’m losing her! I’m losing my bind on the bitch!’ Kestria’s shout is far more effective at conveying what I was trying to say.

‘What else have we got?’ Jonas cries as he turns in circles. He’s been alternating his powers between blinding Mattieu and Odetta, but it’s getting less and less effective – not because he’s weakening, but because they somehow don’t need to see to know where to aim to hit me. ‘Seiren! Can you do something? We need help!’

We’re losing. I can see it. My friends are fighting with all they have, using force, fury, and fists.

And I’m hiding behind them. The one thing I told myself I’d never do in this competition.

I need to be doing something. I need to help. But every time I unsheathe a dagger, I have to duck again before I can get a damn throw in.

‘Yeva!’ I can hear the hopelessness in Jonas’s voice. He’s trying to lead, but he’s failing. ‘Can you do something here?’

‘Nothing while these wind weavers keep blowing all the flames out!’ she yells back.

Ash. We need ash.

‘Yeva! Yeva!’ It takes more than one yell for me to grab her attention as she’s fighting Elenor from Rowell. ‘How much ash do you need to cause some damage?’

‘How much? Anything,’ she replies. ‘Anything’s better than nothing.’

‘Hold on. I’ve got it.’

I’ve been crouching this entire time, trying to give my attackers as little area as possible to aim for, but now I need to change that.

I push up onto my knees and strip my top off. The cold bites at my skin, but right now that’s the least of my worries.

‘Llin, when I say, I need you to let one of the blasts come past you,’ I instruct her.

‘What?’ She swivels to look at me for just a millisecond; more than long enough for me to see the worry on her face. ‘You’re joking, right?’

‘Don’t worry. I’ll be prepared. Just keep me covered for one more sec.’ I lift my arms above my head and wrestle with my top. ‘Okay, Llin. Let me know when it’s coming.’

There’s not a heartbeat before she screams, ‘Incoming now!’

I plummet, landing face-first into the sand while simultaneously throwing my top into the air. Just as I hoped, it ignites and disintegrates into flames. It burns hot, and in moments, it’s ash.

‘That enough for you to work with?’ I ask Yeva, who has just landed an impressive punch to Elenor’s jaw, sending her down and out.

‘It’s a damned good start.’

She lifts her hand, and the cloud of ash rises into the air, swirling and thickening. Jonas wasn’t joking. It’s incredible what she can do. With a rush of air, she sends it across the yard, straight towards the eyes of half a dozen Rettlings. Hope flutters in my chest, but then their wind weaver spots what’s about to happen. Before we even have time to blink, the ash is blown back at us.

‘Fuck!’ Yeva begins gathering the cinders together again, but clearly it’s tougher when the ash is scattered everywhere.

I’m not the only one on my knees now. Kestria and Seiren are both down, as are Baylis and Loch. We’ve only brought three of theirs down – including, by some small miracle, Odetta – and Jonas has now taken over battling Zara. He’s blinding her so she can’t use her powers on me, but he’s also having to fight against two other Rettlings at the same time. And I’m still bloody well crouching here.

I scan the yard, desperate to see a solution I haven’t yet thought of, but what I actually see is a figure striding towards the field of battle. Fuck. If things weren’t bad before, they sure as hell are now.

Kyor swaggers towards us. He’s never shown up for training when he’s supposed to – princely privileges – and now that he’s finally arrived, all he needs to do is join Zara’s team and I’m as good as dead.

‘What’s going on?’ he asks, voicing his question to no one in particular as he strolls into the centre of the fray.

‘Bring the other team to their knees.’ It’s Loch who replies. No doubt Kyor’s voice is clearer to him than to the rest of us.

‘Or Mortidem,’ Holden calls from a safe distance away. ‘Whichever takes your fancy.’

From the sneer on his lips, Holden clearly thinks his ‘joke’ is amusing, yet Kyor remains impassive, scanning the yard coolly, like we aren’t all battling as hard as we did against the fucking jötnar.

Kyor’s assessment, when it’s delivered, is cool and completely on the money. ‘All of this just to kill Kultavaris?’ His gaze lands on Zara. ‘You give her too much power.’

It’s unclear to me whether he means me or Zara.

‘Well, then,’ he says, as if he’s made up his mind, ‘just bring them to their knees, is it?’ he asks casually.

A burst of pain across my shoulder makes me realise I should be paying more attention to what I’m doing rather than staring at the prince. Yet it’s hard to draw my eyes away as he kicks off his shoes and digs his feet into the sand.

Over on the other team, someone screams and drops to the ground with one of Grenda’s knives in their side. I barely notice. My eyes are trained on Kyor, breath quivering as I wait to see what he’ll do.

Oblivious to the battle unravelling around him, he presses his palms close together, as if in prayer, before reaching one hand up into the air.

The effect is instant. Green-tinged clouds sweep in and forks of lightning streak down from the sky, cracking through the air with such force that a rumble loud enough to shake the arc wall thunders through the yard. The entire atmosphere reverberates with the charge from the lightning that sinks into the ground, radiating under all our feet.

No one can hold themselves against it. Every single person drops to the ground.