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Seconds, or minutes, or maybe half an hour passes before we speak.

I reach blindly for the water flask. “Gotta do more of this.”

Sterling’s laugh vibrates into me where our bodies still touch. “You’ll get no argument from me. Every minute of every day would never be enough.”

For a while, we lie here, the repressive heat becoming more bearable as the sun begins its descent.

I trace idle patterns on Sterling’s chest, pondering the power I felt during our training. “You’re really something, you know that? Not many people can stand up to a dragon, let alone more than one. Your magic has always been incredibly strong, but now? It’s unprecedented.”

“I’ve noticed the change. Suddenly, more magic is available to me. More water too. I feel like I can take on anything and anyone.” A quiver runs through him. “Except for the Guardian. Though Zeru’s faction could always name a new champion, the same way Rivlan did with me.”

The memory of our encounter with the Guardian and the way he so easily threw us out of the portal hangs between us.

I snuggle closer to Sterling, as if I can somehow shield him with my body. “Well, like I said, you’ve gotten stronger. And you won’t be alone.”

“Won’t I?” His eyes find mine, questioning. “If this is truly to be a Champions Match⁠—”

“I don’t care what the gods decree. I’m not letting you face this alone.”

At first, he looks like he might argue. Then his expression softens, and he plants a kiss on my forehead. “Always the rebel queen.”

“Always.” A chill runs through me despite the desert heat.

The odds feel impossibly stacked against us. Then again, they always have been.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

A thick layer of mist shrouds the palace training grounds this morning, which I use to my advantage. With a twist of my wrist, the moisture responds, coalescing into a shield formed of half mist, half liquid.

Agnar’s stone shards shatter against my barrier like glass, and droplets scatter across the field. I discovered this trick while merging with Lark and have since learned to implement it on my own.

Reactive magic.

Until disturbed, the magic looks like nothing, and it requires no extra effort from me in order to become deadly. My fingers tingle with the cold, the familiar numbness that arrives whenever I push my elemental abilities this far.

Witnessing Agnar’s frustrated grimace is well worth the discomfort.

“You call that a water shield?” His blue eyes gleam. He summons more earth from the ground beneath us, fashioning soil into lethal spikes with nothing but a flick of his fingers. “I’ve seen better protection from a leaky roof.”

I maintain the barrier with little strain. The water molecules hum with energy, ready to shift with a thought. “At least my element doesn’t require me to grunt like a constipated bear every time I use it.”

I lift a sphere of water from the nearby barrels with ease. The liquid hangs suspended in the air, glinting in the morning light like crystal.

Agnar narrows his eyes. “Like this, you mean?”

He stomps his foot hard enough that vibrations travel up my legs. “The grunting is part of the technique. Creates intimidation.”

The ground rumbles and pitches to the left. I stumble and lose my concentration just enough that my water sphere splatters to the ground.

A laugh escapes me. “Is that what you tell yourself to feel better? No wonder Blair always said you had the subtlety of a landslide.”

The mention of Blair dims Agnar’s smile. Though months have passed since his death, the loss still hurts like hells.

Needing to lighten the mood before the heaviness takes over, I flick my fingers, splashing a gentle spray of water across his face.

“Hey!” He sputters and pushes his coppery hair out of his eyes. “That’s fighting dirty.”

“Never pretended to fight any other way.” I roll my shoulders and gather more water. The element spirals around my forearms, hardening to ice where it touches my skin while remaining supple on the outside. Perfect for deflecting attacks.