Sel and I split off from the group after lunch to head to a clear area, but I stop us before we get far and turn back the way we came.

“Can Sel call his power here with our permission?” I ask. Lu and Hazel are getting settled in the rocking chairs on the front porch. “Or is it only outside the barrier?”

Lu nods. “With permission, sure. Some might say we shouldn’t let a Merlin practice here, but those folks might be just as worried about a Bloodcrafter practicing on the premises. In the end, neither one of y’all will be able to harm anyone else inside this barrier. If you tried, the ancestors would fight back. So.” She shrugs and calls out loudly, “Go ahead, Merlin. Show me what all the fuss is about.”

Sel looks between us, a bright light in his eyes that I don’t expect. I’ve never seen him cast something just because. From the look on his face, I don’t know if he ever has. “Thank you, Lu,” Sel says. She gives him a hurry-up gesture.

Slowly, as if he’s not certain, Sel twists his palms up to move his fingers in a gentle, pulling motion. Aether streams into his palms, and he releases a short, relieved chuckle.

I laugh. “Worried it wouldn’t be there when you called?”

“A little.”

He takes a deep breath, eyes fluttering closed. Silver-blue aether floods into his palms, wrapping his wrists and arms, swirling along his tattoos. Wind cycles up from his feet, bringing wisps of blue and silver with it until his limbs are all flame and power and light.

When Sel’s eyes finally open, the reckless grin curving along his mouth is our only warning.

In a flash, his wrists flex up, then down, and aether flows out from him in a steady rhythm along the ground. When he rotates his wrists, light rises around us overhead, stretching wide like a cloud—and then bursts, raining down like blue embers. Tiny fireworks sparking and exploding into nothing before they hit the ground.

Lu claps. “Impressive light show. And I thought Merlins were only good at making weapons.”

Sel’s head is tilted back, a slow smile on his face as the aether falls around him. “So did I.”

The next day, William sits across from me on a stool while I stand in the grass before him.

“Aether is cast and formed because we will it so, just as Oaths only work when you hold the full intention to comply with them.” He holds both arms out, palms up. He forms a crystalline gauntlet from nothingness on his left, then, with narrowed eyes, releases it, only to recast it into a gauntlet on his right.

“How do you do it so quickly?” I ask.