Chapter 8: The Duel

An entire day had done absolutely nothing to explain why Tessa could suddenly hear things she should not. Unfortunately, she had a duel to survive before she could spend more time worrying about it.

She heard someone whisper “Monroe” before she even reached the combat arena.

Tessa slowed for half a step, then kept walking as though hearing a quiet conversation from that distance had become perfectly normal. Apparently, whatever part of her had decided to develop supernatural hearing had also chosen the worst possible week to become useful.

Then the arena came into view, and she discovered another problem. There were far too many people waiting to watch Theo fight.

That was exactly what she needed.

The formal assessment did not require an audience, yet students crowded the edge of the warded space anyway. Agatha stood near the front with Gideon, while Caspian had somehow found a position that made it obvious he had come specifically to be entertained.

So much for Tessa’s plan to lose quietly and disappear.

She found Zoran inside the arena, speaking with Professor Flint as though the entire situation required no concern at all. He looked calm enough to be offensive, especially considering half the academy seemed interested in watching him dismantle an allegedly late-awakened warlock.

A man preparing to publicly humiliate someone had no business looking that relaxed. Zoran noticed her approaching, and his attention settled on Theo with the same irritating focus he had worn since their ward assessment.

“Monroe,” Flint called.

Tessa stepped across the boundary. “Professor.”

Flint went over the rules in his usual direct manner. Control mattered more than raw force, along with precision, adaptation, and restraint. A clean immobilization, ring-out, surrender, or obvious finishing opportunity would end the match. No lethal magic and no uncontrolled dragonfire.

Tessa flexed her fingers once. Her plan was simple: show enough skill to justify Flint’s interest, then lose convincingly before anyone started asking questions Theo Monroe could not answer. Zoran moved into position opposite her. His gaze dropped briefly to her hands before returning to her face.

“Planning to hold back again?”

Of course he was going to make this difficult.

Tessa smiled. “Planning to lose gracefully?”

Something shifted in his expression. It was not anger. It was interest. Tessa settled her weight into her stance. Across from her, Zoran did the same.

Flint signaled the start, and Zoran attacked first. The barrier cracked apart with a sharp snap, the impact jolting up Tessa’s arms and forcing her back a step as sparks scattered between them.

Apparently, losing convincingly was not going to be the difficult part.

The sparks from Tessa’s shattered ward had barely faded when Zoran moved again.

She raised another barrier, angling it at the last second instead of trying to absorb the force head-on. The impact dragged through her shoulders as his strike slid past her and slammed into the boundary behind her.

Better.

Zoran adjusted immediately, but Tessa shifted sideways and sent a small rune across the floor. It caught beneath his boot just long enough to ruin his next step. His eyes narrowed, then he smiled.

He liked being challenged and, more annoyingly, she liked that he did.

Zoran came at her faster. Tessa stopped trying to match his strength and started making him waste it. She redirected one strike, offered a false opening, then angled a barrier just enough to force him off his preferred path. The crowd grew louder each time he had to adjust.

“Monroe!” Gideon shouted from somewhere behind her. “Stop making the dragons look good!”

Gideon’s shout nearly broke her concentration, and Zoran wasted no time attacking from her blind side. She heard him before she saw him: the scrape of his boot, the shift of fabric, his breath as he closed the distance.

Her body reacted before her mind caught up. She turned and snapped a ward into place just as his strike landed. Zoran paused for a heartbeat, and fear slipped cold beneath her ribs.

Theo should not have heard that attack coming. Apparently, her new hearing had decided subtlety was optional. Zoran’s attention sharpened, and then he stopped giving her room.

He broke through her next defense and caught her forearm, using her momentum to turn her toward the edge of the arena. Tessa twisted with him instead of fighting the grip, but his hand tightened as she changed direction. Suddenly, they were too close for magic to be her only problem.

“Still holding back, Monroe?”

The challenge in his voice tightened her jaw. Tessa drove her heel behind his ankle and shoved against his shoulder.

Zoran shifted before she could take him down, but his arm passed through the fading edge of her broken ward. Magic flashed, and he released her with a sharp breath. A red mark appeared along his forearm.

Tessa hesitated. “You good?”

Zoran glanced at the burn, then back at her. “Keep fighting.”

Something tightened in her chest that had nothing to do with fear.

Fine.

If he wanted a real fight, she could give him enough of one to regret asking. Tessa reset her stance. This time, when Zoran moved, she was already moving too.

After that, Zoran stopped testing her. That was good, and somehow terrible.

Tessa slipped beneath his next strike and redirected the force toward the arena boundary. He recovered before it could carry him out, but not before she planted a rune beneath his rear foot.

The rune caught, and his balance shifted. Tessa’s body reacted before her thoughts caught up. She heard his boot scrape as he recovered and sensed where his weight would move next.

She knew exactly how fast she needed to be. That was far faster than Theo should have moved. If she followed that instinct, she could get inside his guard before he corrected.

She could win, and everyone watching would wonder how an inexperienced warlock had moved like that. Tessa hesitated just long enough.

Zoran tore free of the rune, caught her counter, and used her momentum against her. A second later, he drove her across the warded boundary. Flint called the match, and the arena erupted. Tessa stared at Zoran, breathing hard.

That was wonderful. She had lost exactly as planned and somehow made everything worse. Relief loosened something in her chest. Then she caught Caspian’s thoughtful expression, and it tightened again.

Gideon cheered as if he had won something himself. Agatha met Tessa’s eyes and gave the smallest look of understanding. She knew why Tessa had pulled back.

Flint glanced at the burn on Zoran’s forearm. “Get that treated.”

“It’s minor.”

“Get it treated anyway.”

Zoran did not argue, which probably meant it hurt more than he wanted to admit. Tessa headed for the exit before anyone decided Theo Monroe required further analysis.

“Monroe.”

Of course he followed her. She turned. Whatever satisfaction Zoran should have felt after winning was missing from his expression.

“You had an opening.”

Tessa lifted one shoulder. “Then I missed it.”

His gaze stayed on hers.

“You didn’t take it.”

Her pulse kicked once. Zoran stayed where he was, but his attention made the distance between them feel useless.

“Why?”