“That’s it!” Baelin loudly clapped his hands together.

Far below, the battle between the two remaining centaurs from the Outcasts’ team, and the team of his COMB-1000 students who were filling his ancient heart with pride—they really ought to have named themselves—raced toward its conclusion.

“So…at last you reveal your divinities,” he said, watching as a centaur conjured a bow through a miracle and fired it into the grass toward Alex’s scattering team. The arrows sought out their quarry, but Alex’s Wizard’s Hands, forceball, and summoned elemental beetles threw off the centaurs’ aim.

Baelin’s students survived…for now.

“Still, rather impressive as divinities go,” Baelin mused, as he considered the centaurs. “And hiding your abilities for the entire tournament, only to catch your enemy off guard in a moment of tension…excellent thinking. But perhaps you played your hands a little too late since you’re now in a most disadvantageous position. But, no matter.”

The chancellor looked south, in the direction of Generasi. “Now, let us see if a certain pest reacts to your little revelation.”

He contacted Gemini.

“Don’t do this, don’t do this, don’t do this,” Amir reacted, his heart thumping in his chest. He threw an alarmed look beside him: Ursula and Leopold had gone to grab something to drink, leaving only Donovan in his seat.

The pale young man’s eyes were wide. “Well that’s a little bold!” he cried. “I don’t remember them having divinities last yea-Where are you going, Amir?”

“I’ll be back!” Amir said to his friend.

“Ah, washroom calling, then? A bad time to have to go!”

Amir ignored Donovan as he squirmed past the other spectators in his row, trying to get to the aisle as fast as he could. He winced as the crowd’s roar filled the stadium: some were booing as Grimloch—a favourite—was eliminated, but most were cheering at the upset pulled off by The Outcasts. If the audience minded that miracles were being used in The Grand Battle—which wasn’t against the rules—then they certainly weren’t showing it.

What was even more surprising to him was that it seemed like the crowd was approving of the priests’ power…

‘Priests calling upon the divine,’ Amir thought. ‘During the greatest of Roal’s games! During a celebration of the defeat of gods and their priests! And you all just cheer?’

Nerves gnawed at him.

Anxiety pumped through his body.

‘Can’t let it happen, can’t let it happen,’ he thought.

Rushing into the aisle, he caught sight of the Illusions above the spectators as he glanced around the stadium.

The cheers grew louder as the centaurs fired divinely forged arrows at their opponents.

‘No, no!’ He trembled. ‘Quiet, you fools!’

Terrified, he looked for Watchers of Roal, investigators from the city, or anyone who might have been watching him or his friends. He well remembered his interrogation at the investigators’ station…

The cheering grew louder.

‘Focus, Amir, focus!’ He moved quickly down the aisle—taking the stairs two at a time—and rushed toward the closest exit.

He emerged into one of the stadium’s tunnels and looked around: people were milling about, moving to and from washrooms and lining up at carts selling snacks and beverages.

There was no sign of Leopold or Ursula in any of the lines.

‘Come on…come on…come on…’ he stepped into the crowd, looking for friends…or enemies. Behind him, he could hear the audience’s roar growing louder.

It was too much. Too much noise. Anyone could be hiding in the crowd. Was someone following him? He turned in place, fighting nausea and eyeing everyone around. No one looked suspicious, but then again, it seemed like everyone was suspicious...of him.

Was that cyclops watching him?

What about that child? He seemed to be crying over a spilled drink, but was he eyeing him in secret?

What about that group of men and women?

His queasiness grew.

He had to get out of there.

He had to find his friends…and find some place quiet.

Trembling, Amir stumbled toward one of the washrooms.

‘Please,’ he thought toward the audience in the stadium. ‘I beg of you. Don’t undo all the work I’ve done.’

As if mocking him, their cheers grew even louder.

“Dodge!” Khalik shouted.

Arrows of light whistled through the air.

Each exploded as they struck the earth, sending torrents of grass and soil blasting skyward. Alex heard Khalik’s earth armour crack as an arrowtip glanced off; the prince cursed, firing sharpened stones at the pair of centaurs.

One of them wheeled backward as the stones crashed through his forceshield, narrowly missing skewering him.

Alex and Thundar dodged around divine arrows, slowly closing the distance between them and the archers; if they ran now, they’d be speared while trying to get away, so they had to keep moving forward. Alex’s interference was giving them some support.

Wizard’s Hands and his forceball grappled with the centaurs, pulling at their arms, pushing on their shoulders, and generally spoiling their aim. Elemental beetles crawled over them and fluttered their wings at their eyes.

The archers cursed and fired desperately at their opponents while trying a fighting retreat, but Alex’s spells weren’t their only problems.

Najyah dived back down on one of them, slashing her talons across his face. He swore loudly, blindly striking at the bird of prey, but-

Whooosh.

-the air shimmered in front of her as Khalik rapidly shouted an incantation.

Splooosh!

Clay washed over the archer, hardening, slowing him down. The second centaur called out, turning swiftly—tearing at the spells interfering with his aim—and fired four arrows in quick succession in Najyah’s direction.

One missed, but at such close range, three found their mark.

With a screech, the eagle disappeared…but her work was done.

Whish

One of Theresa’s arrows slipped through the clay-coated centaur’s defences.

It struck his head.

He was gone in an instant.

Two down, one to go.

The centaur turned—abandoning his retreat—and tried firing directly at Khalik, but Alex’s Wizard’s Hands kept harassing him, throwing his aim off.

His eyes went wide as a barrage of arrows, stones and mana bolts rained down on him.

Suddenly, he vanished.

“By the gods,” Khalik panted, stopping in mid-air. Sweat poured down his beard. “Ah…Najyah,” he said sadly, looking where his familiar had vanished. “If only you’d made it to the end with us.” He surveyed the devastation of the battlefield. “They were mighty foes. It took your and Grimloch’s sacrifice to defeat them…but defeat them we did.”

“Imagine if this battle was actually to the death,” Thundar said. “Jeez!”

Khalik winced, his eyes on the spot where Najyah had been. “I’d rather not think about that.”

“Me either.” Alex looked to the south and the column of smoke rising there. Explosions and incantations roared out and he heard the clash of enchanted clay against metal. The other Outcasts hadn’t managed to defeat Claygon, but it sounded like he hadn’t crushed them either.

“How much mana do you two have left?” he asked his friends.

“Not much,” Thundar informed him.

“Very little,” Khalik said.

“I’m down to about half now,” Alex said.

Boom!

An explosion of stones blasted through the air past the smoke. The ongoing battle was sounding absolutely ferocious.

“I don’t think we’ll be beating the rest of those Outcasts with our mana so low,” Alex said.

“Agreed.” The prince watched the battlefield. “But what about Claygon?”

Alex considered that. “I’ll call him back and let him keep blasting them as he’s falling back. I say for now, we head to the mountain and get some cover while he’s doing his fighting retreat, then watch to see if they follow him.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Thundar said. “But what if they do follow him?”

Alex winced. “Then we’ll have to hide somewhere else to recover our mana and hope he takes them down by himself. …or hope he takes a few out before he goes down.”

“Crap,” Thundar said. “We’ll be down a lot of power if we lose him.”

“We shall just have to deal with that bridge when we cross it,” the prince said, then looked toward the sky. “And let us hope those invisible attackers do not reappear.”

“Well, now they’re definitely gonna reappear,” Alex said.

The trio flew back toward the mountain while Alex called Claygon and the Elemental Beetles: ‘Come to the mountain. Keep blasting them with your fire-beams as you’re retreating.’

As the trio began their flight through the grass, they watched for hidden attackers: invisible wizards, or even remnants of the Ursa-Lupines…but no one appeared.

“No sign of those invisible bastards yet…” Thundar said. “And I don’t see anyone from that big alliance we stomped either.”

“Strange,” Khalik said. “You would think the invisible ones would have followed us and struck by now: perhaps they are off hunting others…”

“Maybe,” Alex said. “Maybe.”

He craned his neck in all directions.

Nothing met his eyes.

No threats anywhere.

And that was making him very nervous.

Trying to keep calm by focusing on surveying the plain as they flew through its tall grass, Alex looked for arrows protruding from the earth. Clouds of them were fired during the contest, and many had been Theresa’s: she’d filled her quivers to bursting for The Grand Battle, but they could probably use some replenishing by now. He and his Wizard’s Hands snatched up arrows as they flew—both the centaurs’ and Theresa’s—while he listened to Claygon’s battle behind them.

He could hear the whooom and whooosh of the golem’s fire-beams blasting the terrain; the sound was growing louder as Claygon grew closer. Alex couldn’t see if the Outcasts were following his golem as he fell back; hopefully, other teams were keeping them busy. Either way, he, Khalik, and Thundar were almost at the safety of their destination: the mountain loomed straight ahead.

Theresa emerged from her hiding place to wave them over while Brutus slipped out from behind a stone outcropping, barking with all three mouths.

“Shhh! Shhh, boy!” Theresa hushed him, holding out her hand and pointing up the mountain.

Alex squinted toward the peak, catching sight of figures moving around: it looked like several wizards were up there circling the peak using flight spells.

Someone had taken the mountaintop.

“We’ll have to keep it down,” Theresa said quietly. “We don’t want them hearing us from up there.”

“Indeed,” Isolde said, emerging from behind another rock with Svenia. “It would be favourable to us if we were able to attack them, but I am still recovering my mana.”

“Yeah,” Alex said. “If we try going after anyone now, we’ll just get eliminated. It’s better if we wait and recover some mana.”

“Indeed…” Isolde took stock of the three young men. “Where are Grimloch, and Najyah for that matter?”

Khalik sighed and filled Theresa, Svenia and Isolde in on what had happened.

The huntress winced. “That’s too bad. I wanted to make it to the end with them…they gave the rest of us a chance to keep going.” She squinted out over the plain. “It looks like Claygon might be safe, though. I don’t see anyone following him.”

Her other teammates looked back over the grassy plain. Alex couldn’t see his golem through all the fire and smoke—which had spread considerably—but Theresa’s eyes were much sharper than his.

“That’s a big relief,” he said. “Let’s hope they’re off regrouping somewhere: losing those archers will definitely hurt them in the long run.”

“Indeed,” Khalik said.

The group moved behind the rocks, concealing themselves and watching as Claygon drew closer. The silhouette of a familiar four-armed form emerging from the smoke grew in Alex’s vision.

His nerves felt like they were being pulled so tight, that they were about to snap as the golem came closer, but he saw no sign of any Outcasts. No elemental knights. No battle wizards. No other opponents.

Nothing, Claygon was only about a hundred feet away now.

‘Alright, you can stop burning the grass,’ Alex thought.

The golem cut off the fire-beams and turned around, floating toward Alex.

“Look at all that smoke,” Thundar said.

As far as the eye could see, burning grass filled the sky with thick white smoke. Alex was sure that the referees could put the fires out if they wanted to—especially with Baelin close by, but they weren’t doing so, at least for now. All that fire brought back some of his old fears and memories.

So much potential for destruction.

So much smoke.

Someone could hide a castle in i-

He froze.

The smoke!

He’d been a fool!

‘Claygon!’ he thought. ‘Shoot at the smoke!’

The golem raised his arms and head.

Whooom.

The fire-gems charged.

“The smoke! Watch the smoke!” he cried to his team.

For an instant, they froze.

Then, The Outcasts struck.

As one, three elemental knights and two wizards burst out of the smoke with magic blazing around their hands and weapons. Their eyes were utterly focused: not on Clagyon, but on Alex’s team.

Two of the elemental knights surged forward.

“Look out!” Alex cried, then paused in surprise as another voice echoed his words.

He wasn’t the only one who’d shouted ‘look out’.

One of the Outcasts’ battlemages was pointing up above Claygon, a look of horror on his face. Magic blazed around his eyes.

Alex looked to the spot the enemy wizard was pointing at.

It seemed like nothing more than empty space…

…until a tidal wave of lava spewed from it.

A familiar voice boomed through the air as a young, redheaded woman appeared.

“A fine dance you’ve been having, Roth!” Tyris Goldtooth laughed. “Mind if I cut in?”