Page 37 of Echoes of the Banshee

“I’m not exactly a combat expert, but I know enough. We’re partners in Misfits, our gifts are… similar.” Coach studies him for a moment longer before nodding.

“You’re talented, it’s just you don’t normally get involved. But I’m sure you’ll do a great job. Especially if you two work together in other classes as well.”

Mavrik simply nods in acknowledgment and Coach turns his attention to the rest of the class. I’m a little taken aback by Mavrik’s offer. This is the third time he’s offered to help me. Add in him saving me with the shadows — I need to focus, not think about if he could be Lazlo.

“Thanks, Mavrik,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady, masking the slight hesitation I feel.

“No problem,” he replies quietly. His attention shifts to the center of the room where the rest of the class is already starting their drills. “Let’s get you caught up.”

He takes his place across from me, his posture poised and focused.

“Alright,” he begins, taking a deep breath. “Combat magic isn’t just about spells and punching. It’s about control, timing, and energy flow. You need to connect with your magic and feel it in your movements. Most witches have shields similar to their gifts, but since you don’t seem to know what your magic is yet, why don’t you focus on making a shield and see what it comes as?”

I nod, trying to clear my mind. The idea of merging my magic with my physical movements feels intimidating, but I’m determined to try.

“Take a deep breath and picture yourself blocking an attack, throwing your arm up,” he tells me. I steady myself, feeling the earth beneath my feet, trying to ground myself. I focus on my breath, drawing in energy, letting it settle. As I focus on my center, I raise my arm in front of me, envisioning the shield forming. Slowly, a glowing white shield forms. I stare at it in awe.

“That’s beautiful, Thea,” Mavrik says, the amazement seeping into his voice. I’m about to agree when it disappears.

I focus again, feeling the magic swirl in my chest, trying to guide it. Slowly, the shield grows more stable, though still dancing like a flame in the wind that refuses to go out. I feel the barrier solidify a little more, the edges curling and shifting. Each time I call it, it’s a little better.

“Good,” Mavrik says. “You’ve got the idea. Now, keep practicing. The more you connect your movements to your magic, the more control you’ll have.”

I exhale a slow breath, feeling a small sense of achievement. “Thanks, Mavrik. This actually feels like it’s working.”

I feel footsteps before I hear them approaching.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Adora,” Ethan’s voice drips with mockery. “Crawling back to me.” I hadn’t even realized he was in this class.

“The name is Thea,” I correct. “The only thing I’d crawl back to you for is a laugh.”

“Whatever you call yourself, you’re still the weakest witch around.” In the past, I might’ve let it slide, but not today.

“Weakest witch?” I tilt my head and narrow my eyes. “Funny, because I don’t remember you being anywhere near as strong as you think you are.”

His smirk fades. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Mavrik’s quiet voice cuts through the tension. “Careful, Ethan. You’re walking a fine line.”

Ethan glares at Mavrik, clearly irritated. “Oh, look, Mavrik’s got a soft spot for my leftovers now,” he taunts. “She’s a lost cause, Mavrik. Just a pathetic little witch pretending she belongs here.”

I raise an eyebrow. “You’ve been pretending to be something worthwhile for so long, you almost believe it yourself.”

Ethan’s confidence stumbles as he quickly switches tactics. “You think you can just sign up for a combat class? You have no strength.”

“Pretty sure I did. Now if you don’t mind, I’m trying to learn. Something you know nothing about.” I turn to Mavrik, ready to resume.

“Okay, leftovers. Let’s see what you’ve got,” Ethan says. With a grunt, he sends a surge of magic hurtling toward me.

My body moves faster than my mind, instincts taking over. I raise my hand and a shield of blinding light forms between us. The energy ricochets off and slams into his chest. The force sends him flying backward into the wall with a sickening thud.

Ethan groans, clutching his chest in disbelief. “What the hell, Adora?” he yells, his embarrassment causing his voice to rise. “I didn’t mean for this to turn into—”

“—My name is Thea,” I cut him off. “You should’ve thought about that before you attacked my back.”

Ethan stands, brushing himself off with exaggerated care, making sure everyone in the room is watching. “Great. Make me the bad guy? I’m trying to help you get better, and you launch me across the room?” His voice is dripping with sarcasm.

Coach runs over, silencing him with a sharp look. “I thought better of you, Ethan. This is her first time learning shielding, and your response is to attack?”