The Young Elites series by Marie Lu

Teren lunges forward.

Enzo strikes out with his daggers, aiming for the eyes, but Teren puts up his shoulder and shields his face—the blow deflects harmlessly off his hard skin. Enzo rolls away, hops back to his feet, and whirls on his enemy again. They circle each other in a slow arc. Enzo twirls a dagger in one of his gloved hands.

“You seem hesitant this morning,” Teren calls out. He strikes at Enzo with unnerving speed. Enzo dances out of the way, spins, and lashes out as hard as he can with both daggers. One of them manages to make impact, striking Teren somewhere on his side—but it looks as if someone were trying to stab through soft wood. Teren grunts, but the instant the blade leaves his side, he grins.

“Use your fire, Reaper,” he taunts. “Give me a challenge.”

Enzo attacks again. This time, his blades burst into flames, carving streaks of fire in the air as he lunges for Teren. He feints left, then twists in midair and slashes out at Teren’s face. Sure enough, Teren jerks his head away from the blow—but Enzo moves along with him, twin blades burning, anticipating where he’ll turn, and brings his second dagger viciously up toward Teren’s eyes. The Inquisitor darts away barely in the nick of time. Enzo’s blade scrapes against the side of Teren’s cheek, leaving a gash that closes right up.

Teren smiles. “Better.”

My turn. With a deep breath, I drop the disguises on Violetta and myself, then immediately cloak us in invisibility. Around us, people gasp in shock—but we are already on the move. I hurry to the small gate at the edge of the row, which leads into the lake’s pathway. We cross over. Inquisitors line the pathway, poised to attack if given the command. I carefully make our way forward.

“Tell me,” Enzo calls out over the roar of the flames. “Why do you turn your back on others like yourself?”

Teren doesn’t reply right away. Instead, he draws his sword and strikes out at Enzo. Enzo leaps to the side, but not before the sword’s blade nicks a line in his arm. He conjures a burst of fire that swallows Teren whole—but Teren doesn’t show any sign of pain. He steps out of the flames with a wicked smile, his skin crisping, darkening, and then returning to normal. The edges of his cloak fray and burn from the heat, but the clothes in contact with his skin stay untouched, as if behind some shield of protection.

“I never turned my back,” Teren calls out. “I am the only one willing to help. Look at what we’re doing right now, Reaper—our powers are curses from the Underworld, and we use them to destroy everything we touch.”

“Destruction is a choice.” Enzo raises one hand, calling the flames hotter, brighter, until the fire turns blinding white and engulfs Teren entirely. If Teren can’t see, he can’t attack. Enzo hefts a dagger. The fire suddenly vanishes—and in the abrupt absence, Enzo flings the dagger at Teren’s eyes.

Teren deflects the dagger with his sword, then catches the dagger in midair and throws it back. Enzo ducks to the ground in a graceful sweep. “I am cursed, just as you are. Yet, while you continue to defend those born from the leftovers of the blood fever, I’m doing what the gods always intended.” Teren’s pale eyes seem to soak in the flames that surround them, shading them a terrifying color. His lips curl into a snarl.

Enzo pushes against Teren’s blade. His muscles bulge under his sleeves. Teren is simply too strong—I can see Enzo’s strength slowly ebbing away. Still, I can hear Enzo’s voice ringing out over the melee. “Perhaps you do it because you love your powers,” he shouts, mocking, “and you want to be the only one with such a gift.”

Teren’s smile vanishes. “How little you know about me, Your Highness,” he replies. “Even after all these years.”

Enzo lunges forward and slashes at Teren’s eyes. This time, his blade manages to cut the edge of Teren’s eyelid before he darts away. When he looks at Enzo again, blood smears the film over his left eye, turning the pale iris bright red.

Teren launches himself at Enzo. He sidesteps with him, then plunges a dagger deep into Enzo’s shoulder. I gasp. The flames around them falter. He shudders—but still manages to yank himself away. The blade tears out of his shoulder. Violetta and I are now so close that I can feel the heat from the fire. We are in position. Is everyone else too?

Teren’s eyes burn. Enzo steps in front of Raffaele and turns to face Teren again, ready for another attack. Blood drips from his shoulder. Then—he raises a dagger high in the air and waves it once.

Our signal.

Several things happen at once. Arrows hit the two Inquisitors holding Raffaele down. A curtain of wind smashes into the other Inquisitors nearest Raffaele—it flings them all into the water in a chorus of shrieks. From deep within the lake, two baliras explode from the surface, translucent bodies arcing over the path where Violetta and I are crouching. I flatten against the stone. My sister follows. The baliras send tides crashing against the platform, and rain down glittering water across the entire arena. Their eyes are black with fury, their calls thundering. One of them flips in midair, its enormous fleshy wings coming down on a line of Inquisitors at the end of the stone path. They are swept into the water. Another enormous wing sweeps right over our heads, flinging away the Inquisitors closest to us.

The other balira has a rider on board. Gemma. I look on as her creature turns, allowing her to reach down and clasp Raffaele’s arm. She pulls him to safety on board the balira’s back.

Our turn. Violetta reaches out with her energy at the same time I reach out with mine. She pulls Teren’s powers away from him. Out on the platform, Teren’s eyes bulge—he stumbles backward a step, then crouches down on one knee as if someone had struck a violent blow. Violetta sucks her breath in sharply. She won’t be able to hold his powers back for long.