I woke to a world on fire.

  The acrid sting of smoke filled my lungs, dragging me violently from sleep. Shouts and screams tangled with the csh of steel, the roar of fmes so loud it drowned out every thought. My fingers found the hilt of my bde by instinct, and I was already on my feet before I fully registered the sound of chaos outside.

  The tent fp tore open, a rush of cold air and the copper tang of blood hitting me all at once. I stumbled out, boots crunching against snow streaked with ash and crimson. My eyes darted across the camp.

  A lone figure stood in the center, robed in bck, a staff—no, a spear—raised high, glowing with sickly green light. Soldiers lunged at him, but with a single downward ssh, the air itself rippled. A jagged tear of dark energy shot outward, splitting the earth and hurling men like ragdolls. Their screams barely had time to reach me before their bodies hit the ground, limp and broken.

  I exhaled sharply. I'd never seen magic quite like that.

  It wasn’t a complete surprise, not really. Aric and I had expected something—an ambush or a strike on the camp, maybe a probing attack. But not this. Not sorcery of this scale, or a weapon that flung fire and lightning with a flick of the wrist.

  "To arms!" Aric’s voice cut through the bedm, raw and commanding. He stood near the camp’s center, a warhammer gripped in both hands, flickers of magic curling between his fingers. Soldiers stumbled toward him, eyes wide with terror, clutching weapons with white-knuckled grips.

  I forced myself forward, boots slipping on ice slick with blood. "Aric!" I called, nearly colliding with him. “They hit us too soon!”

  "Tell them that," he snapped, deflecting a bolt of fme with a flicker of light that barely held. The magic dispersed quickly, and I could see the strain in his eyes. His spells weren’t enough to stop a direct hit. “Bastards must’ve known we were onto them.”

  We’d doubled the watch, set traps along the perimeter, even rotated shifts twice to keep the men alert. It should’ve bought us time. Should’ve let us counter the ambush, or at least given us some warning. But none of it had mattered.

  Dark-robed figures moved at the edges of the firelight, hands weaving complex sigils that fred with sickly green light. Spells tore through our ranks, men screaming as they were hurled back, flesh seared and twisted.

  A flicker of motion caught my eye—a recruit barely out of boyhood, bde trembling as he faced down one of the sorcerers. The spellcaster sneered, a single gesture sending arcs of lightning searing through the air.

  The boy crumpled without a sound.

  "Gods damn them," I growled, turning to Aric. “Where are the others?”

  “Dead or scattered,” he bit out. His eyes flickered gold, a spark of magic bleeding into his voice. “They came from the north and west, pushed us into a damned bottleneck. If we don’t break through—”

  “Then we’re all dead,” I finished grimly.

  His jaw clenched. “There’s at least three of them,” Aric snarled, deflecting a small burst of fire with a hastily cast shield that shattered on impact. The effort left him paler, breaths ragged. “One of them’s wielding something—something powerful.”

  I nodded as I followed his gaze, heart lurching. It was the same sorcerer I had seen standing in the middle of camp, the one who had torn our men apart without effort. Except now I realized the staff he held was actually a long, jagged spear that pulsed with cold, unnatural energy. Runes spiraled along its length, shifting and flickering like living things.

  He moved with eerie precision, fire and lightning ncing from the spear’s tip, each strike tearing through armor and flesh alike. No hesitation, no wasted motion—just ruthless efficiency. His face was shadowed beneath a hood, eyes glinting like shards of ice.

  Aric grimaced. “We need to take him down—now.”

  “You don’t say,” I growled. My heartbeat thundered in my ears.

  “Cover me,” Aric ordered, voice tight. “I’ll handle the spells. You get that damned spear away from him.”

  “Wonderful pn,” I shot back sarcastically, but my feet were already moving, sword in hand.

  We pushed forward, weaving between bodies and bursts of fire. The sorcerer sneered as we advanced, lifting the spear skyward. A pulse of energy surged outward, rattling my bones.

  Aric lunged first, warhammer crashing down with the force of a battering ram. The sorcerer deflected, but the impact sent him stumbling, wards flickering. I moved in tandem, bde fshing, another cut tracing across the sorcerer’s side.

  Damnit, a shallow cut.

  The bastard barely seemed to notice.

  The sorcerer let out a ugh, stepping back, twirling the spear between his fingers as if mocking us. “This is the best you can muster? A half-trained hedge knight and a sellsword?”

  Aric spat blood, shifting his grip on the warhammer. “Funny. I was about to say the same thing.”

  The sorcerer’s smirk faded, irritation flickering in his gaze. I raised my bde in preparation. I was at a disadvantage, but I knew this fight. He lunged, the spear a blur of fire and steel. I barely sidestepped, the wind of his strike whipping past my cheek.

  Too fast. Too damn fast!

  Pain nced through my ribs suddenly—a sharp, searing agony as a bolt of raw magic burst from his palm, striking me in the side. My knees buckled, but I forced myself to stay upright. I wasn’t going to die like this.

  I darted in again, feinting right before twisting left, forcing him to move his guard. Aric took the opening, bringing his warhammer down in a brutal arc. The sorcerer barely managed to raise a ward in time, the air warping as magic and steel collided.

  For the first time, the sorcerer stumbled, genuine frustration fshing across his face. His grip on the spear tightened.

  "You are becoming annoying."

  Aric and I surged forward in unison—hammer, steel, and sheer stubbornness driving us into a final csh.

  The sorcerer hissed, his wards flickering, breaking, his movements slowing just enough—

  I twisted my bde, aiming for his ribs.

  Aric swung at his skull.

  "Die!" I shouted in an adrenaline-fueled rage.

  The sorcerer saw his incoming demise, then roared in frustration to match my own. "Enough of this!"

  Magic suddenly detonated outward.

  Our weapons were flung back at us with unnatural force—I barely twisted aside before my own bde nearly took my arm off, grazing my shoulder. Aric staggered as his warhammer was thrown from his grip, sending him to one knee.

  The sorcerer lifted the spear skyward, incanting a spell. The air began to twist around him, his voice becoming unnaturally loud. The wind picked up, small bolts of lightning shooting from the spear’s tip, grazing the ground around him as I tried to scramble away.

  Finally, he tilted his head back, reaching the spell’s crescendo—

  And then he froze.

  His chant cut off mid-sylble, turning into a scream that echoed throughout the camp.

  A deafening roar shattered the battlefield, making my teeth chatter from the sheer force.

  Something massive descended at impossible speed, crashing into the ground with a force that split the battlefield apart.

  I was ripped from my location, sent tumbling through the air as a massive shockwave of ice exploded outward.

  I hit the ground hard, tried to roll—failed. Pain nced through my ribs as I skidded to a stop, struggling to even breathe.

  The world fell silent.

  A figure stood in the crater, the ground beneath her stained red.

  She reached down, grasping the spear, pulling it free from the frozen corpse of the sorcerer.

  Golden eyes met mine.

  A slow, deliberate smile curved her lips.