When we returned to the arena after the break, the mud had been covered over by interlocking stone platforms. I saw several scorch marks and splatters of blood. The scorch marks looked fresh, but the blood was nothing more than a stain from a memory long past. The crowd had returned from their break in full force. Whatever fatigue lingered from the earlier bouts vanished the moment the announcer’s booming voice echoed across the theater. My opponent floated across from me.

  Applause roared through the stands.

  I padded onto the stones, tail raised, my breath frosting faintly in the warm air. We tried to dry me out as much as we could, but even I underestimated how soaked I was.

  Across the arena, my opponent appeared. Sereth the wyverling, the announcer named her. Her trainer was tall for a kaland, with her golden hair tied back in a loose braid and a dark coat that hung just above her knees. Her eyes were a sharp, cutting green, and she held herself with confidence yet eyed me with a touch of disdain.

  No bigger than a cat, she stretched her tiny, scaled limbs and flared leathery wings that glimmered with copper and amber tones. Two short triangle horns poked from her brow. Her eyes, bright and molten-orange, locked onto me with gleeful malice. When she opened her mouth, she didn’t hiss. She giggled.

  “Lucia, watch for fire special attacks!” Keagan’s call solidified a small stone growing in my gut.

  Wonderful. A pyromaniac pixie-lizard.

  The woman tipped her hat in my direction. “You’ve got guts, kid,” she called out. Her voice carried a casual twang that sounded out of place. “But I reckon your wolf’s fur’s about to get more than a little singed.”

  Sereth crossed her arms and tapped her chin with a small claw. “It’s such a fluffy coat too.”

  You really want to play the intimidation game?

  I bared my fangs in what might’ve passed for a grin. “I'll try not to swallow you whole.”

  The crowd loved that.

  “Contestants ready?”

  Sereth gave a lazy two-finger salute. I lowered my stance and nodded.

  “Then begin!”

  Sereth seemingly vanished with a sharp burst of wingbeats. The little wyverling was absurdly quick. My eyes tracked it instinctively, but even with my heightened senses, I lost it against the glare for a heartbeat.

  That heartbeat was enough.

  A burst of orange shot from my left. I heard it before I saw it. The fire bolted towards me, forcing me to leap back, feeling the wave of heat rolling past my muzzle.

  Okay, that’s a problem.

  The little creature reappeared, hovering in front of her trainer's head. Sereth’s claws curled, channeling another flicker of flame that built from her palms like molten beads.

  “Sereth!” She snapped her fingers. “Scatterfire pattern!”

  The wyverling cackled, flitting through the air above me as half a dozen miniature firebolts spun out in a fan shape. They weren’t aimed to hit me; they were meant to herd me towards the center.

  I moved before thinking, weaving between bursts of fire that exploded along my flanks and behind me. Each impact left smoldering plumes where the stone had cracked. My fur prickled from the heat.

  So that’s how she wants to play. Keep me moving. Don’t let me breathe.

  I skidded sideways, ice blooming from my paws as I shifted my momentum. A shield of frost shot up from the ground, catching a couple of smaller bolts. My breath came out in a misty growl.

  Sereth's eyes narrowed. “Oh-ho… clever girl.”

  The wyverling banked sharply, shot up, then spiraled in a downward dive. I saw the magic swirling. A concentrated flame twisting between her claws built and thrust her faster. The air itself shimmered.

  What does she think she's doing?

  I raised the frost shield just before she impacted me. Except her plan was to never hit me. She pulled a one-eighty, bathing me with her trailing flames.

  Flame met ice with a shriek. The explosion snapped outward like thunder; the shield shattered in spiderweb fractures. I was sent flying backwards in a tumble.

  For a second, I couldn’t see. I couldn’t even smell past the smoke. Then I felt the burns. Nothing stayed ignited, but portions of my fur were definitely singed. The water that we never wrung out was the only thing that saved me from the worst of the flames. It wasn't going to save me a second time.

  Then something tiny laughed again, just over my shoulder.

  I whipped around instinctively, firing an ice shard.

  Sereth darted backward, grinning, a bead of molten fire already forming in her palms again.

  I created a frost shield. This one was small and round, and instead of being convex, I made it flat, like a disk.

  She smirked. “Cute.”

  She fired off her bolt of fire. I didn't block it with the shield. Instead, I hopped up, caught it in my teeth, and spun around to hit her with it.

  It hit her square in the face. She flipped four times as she dropped to the ground. I darted to slam my paw on her. She covered herself in a fireball before zipping away from me with a trail of flames behind her.

  Blood poured from her nose, her cheek was deformed, and one of her little horns was split. She wiped at her nose, only to smear the blood around, then looked at her hand. “Ow.”

  Her voice was much more nasally, confirming her broken nose. Then I noticed her one eye was looking puffier over her broken cheek.

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  That's going to swell shut. That might give me an advantage once it does.

  She began a barrage of firebolts, one right after another. I answered with a hail of ice shards. She dodged every single ice shard, while I struggled to avoid all of her attacks. It didn't help that she was firing off twice as many magical shots as I was.

  After one clipped my flank, I rolled onto the ground to snuff out the flames that lingered on my fur. That only made it easier for the next five to hit me. Each bolt seared flesh and had me recoiling to put the flames out. They hurt more than anything else I had received, despite being only a few inches in diameter.

  I put up a shield to start blocking, but each gout of flame burned holes through it. So I spun it to catch more while I recovered from my injuries. Keagan has the strap of his bag in a death grip.

  I shook my head, signaling him to not say anything.

  I started aiming my ice shards to intercept the incoming fire projectiles. Each collision ended in a puff of steam. With half the attacks to dodge, I could keep up easier, but that caused a new problem.

  We're in a stalemate. She's hit me more, but I've hit her harder. Once the time runs out, it'll come down to who has suffered the most damage. Right now, I can't tell who is worse; she likely won't be able to either. If she'll try something, it'll be at the last second.

  My mana was deleting fast, and my muscles were burning almost as much as my wounds. The arena was starting to fill with a haze of steam. Her attacks were starting slow at the same time. Then the attacks stopped altogether.

  “Lucia, thirty seconds.”

  I could hear Keagan, but I couldn't see him. The crowd shouting both of our names made it hard for me to focus on listening for where the wyverling was. There was a flap behind me.

  She was circling me with a jet of flames behind her. One revolution around me and she inched closer. The air was stiflingly oppressive. Panting as I was, I sucked in more of the hot air, making it extremely hard to breathe.

  I fired off an ice shard to intercept her. My opponent just tilted her flight path up and dodged it easily while completing another revolution. Her flaming noose tightened. I was starting to get dizzy. I wasn't going to last the twenty seconds left of the match.

  The heat made creating a frost shield much harder, and it was melting almost instantly. My shield led the way. I aimed it high to guide her further downward. With the last of my strength, I sprinted as fast as I could to get ahead of her.

  She dropped below the shield. I stepped my claws, again, high to guide her to the ground. She dropped below them. My paw washed in her fiery wake. I bit back the pain as I swung my hips to bring my tail to catch her.

  My tail slapped her.

  There was a crack that I knew everyone in the arena heard. I spun back around, but I used my other front claws to keep me from falling into the flames. My tail snapped, and Sereth doubled over before landing on the ground in a limp heap.

  All the flames dissipated, and I fell to the ground too. My foot was on fire, so I blew it out with the heaviest breath I could manage. Most of it went out, but a flicker remained. I licked it to snuff it out.

  “Time’s up!” the announcer called. “Judges, please come to the field.”

  I officially hate fire.

  While we waited, I could hear Sereth taking short sharp breaths as my pulse hammered through my body, matching the pain circulating within.

  Three figures in white-trimmed Association coats hurried onto the field as the crowd’s roar faded into an anxious murmur. The first judge, a stern man with a steel-gray beard, kneeled beside Sereth’s small, motionless frame. The other two moved toward me. I wanted to get up, to show them I was fine, but every muscle in my body refused the idea. My tail throbbed from the inside out, the bone bent in a way it absolutely shouldn’t be.

  “Stay down,” one judge said as he crouched near me, his tone calm but firm. “You’ve got multiple burns, the worst one across your left flank, punctures from ice shards, and a tail fracture. Don’t move.”

  “Sounds about right,” I muttered, voice gravelly. I wanted to sound defiant, but the words came out more like a groan.

  Didn’t feel the ice shards, though. Must have been from the time she shattered my frost shield.

  Across the arena, Sereth whimpered faintly. Her tiny chest fluttered with rapid breaths. One of the judges lifted her gently onto a broad cloth. The wyverling’s wings twitched once before going still.

  “How bad?” the older judge asked without looking up.

  “Spinal damage,” came the reply from the healer crouched beside Sereth. “Cracked vertebrae, at least three, fractured skull, internal bleeding, and a dislocated wing. She’s stable, but she’s not flying again today.”

  Keagan stood frozen at the edge of the arena, fists clenched white around the wooden rail. The woman trainer had both hands over her mouth, the wide-brimmed hat hanging limp at her side. For all her swagger earlier, the blood had drained from her face.

  The head judge signaled to the attendants. “Both combatants should be moved to the infirmary. Gentle with the small one.”

  Several Association aides arrived with stretchers. I didn’t resist when four of them rolled me onto mine; the motion made the pain in my tail spike. A small hiss escaped from me. Sereth’s stretcher passed beside mine as we were carried down the corridor. Her small body looked even smaller now.

  Her trainer followed beside her, whispering a soft lullaby that sounded like a prayer or maybe an apology. Keagan hurried along my side, his expression full of guilt.

  “Lucia… you did amazing,” he said quietly, but his voice cracked.

  “Then why do you look like someone died?” I rasped. “She’s alive, isn’t she?”

  “She is,” I heard from the woman just ahead. “Barely.”

  We entered the infirmary. It was a cool wooden room lined with beds, bottles, and a glowing cabinet. There was a thick scent of mint in the air.

  They laid me down opposite Sereth. The wyverling was still unconscious, her wings stretched carefully over a suspended mesh frame to keep them from folding wrong. Her tail hung limp; one side of her face was swollen and blackened by internal bleeding.

  “She’s going to need a full day in recovery,” a healer murmured. “But she’ll live.”

  “Good,” I said, forcing the word through gritted teeth as a healing enchantment tingled over my burned flank.

  She didn’t deserve to die over this.

  Keagan kept petting the top of my head. It was calming him down, so I forced a smile for him. Sereth’s trainer approached my bedside once the healers stepped back. Up close, the lines around her eyes told a longer story than her casual bravado had hinted.

  “You’re Lucia,” she said quietly. “The direwolf people have been talking about. The name’s Fayna.”

  “Nice to meet you, Fayna.” Keagan bowed. “I’m Keagan.”

  She studied me for a long moment, then gave a crooked smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “You fight well. A serious type disadvantage, and you didn’t back down in the slightest. I can respect that. Sereth’s never met her match before today. You earned that win.”

  I lowered my gaze to the scorched patches of my fur. “Doesn’t feel like it. Feels like we both lost.”

  Fayna exhaled slowly, running a hand through her braid. “That’s the business.” She looked at the wyverling’s bed again, her voice softening. “She’ll heal. You’ll heal. But that doesn’t mean it stops stinging. Yet, as long as you can get back up again, you should. There’s a lesson to be learned in moments like this.”

  “Like what?” Keagan asked.

  The woman smiled. “It’s never over until it’s over. And I’ve seen what you’re willing to put on the line for victory.”

  I nodded. “You’ve done a good job training her, but maybe cool it on the pyromania in the future.”

  She waved her hand. “Nah, she ain't anything like that. In private, she’s a total sweetheart. It’s all for the show, you know? Once she wakes up, I can tell you she’ll want to bury her face in that mane of yours and indulge herself in a new fluffy experience.”

  I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Of course.”

  Fayna lingered a little longer. “For what it’s worth, wolf,” she said as she turned to leave, “you’ve got two new fans in me and Sereth now. You fight like you mean something.” She gave the kid a wave as she turned away. “Treat her well. She’s a special one; that's as plain as day.”

  Then she was gone, back to her wounded partner.

  Keagan smiled. “She is special.” He stepped closer to my side, his hand resting gently against my neck. “Lucia… you are the best. But for now, you need to rest.”

  I shifted slightly to make myself a little more comfortable, though the ache in my tail made even that feel monumental. “Yeah,” I murmured, eyes slipping shut. “Rest sounds good. Just wake me up before our next match.”

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