Gideon
The fireball hovered in my hand, heat licked up my forearm in a living coil, hungry and impatient. The magic responded too easily to my temper and swelled brighter as I took aim and heaved it down the field toward the straw training dummy. The orb screamed through the air and detonated on impact, flames devouring straw and wood in an instant. The sharp crack of combustion echoed across the field, followed by the thick, bitter scent of smoke. It suited my mood perfectly.
The intel we’d received yesterday about the trafficking operation sat like a stone between my shoulder blades, heavy and unmoving. Every breath felt like it scraped past that weight. I wanted to act—to rip the rot out by the roots—but sitting still, waiting for the so-called right moment while my people suffered wa
