Roman creeps up behind Numerius, who still doesn’t see him. He does see me pull one of Roman’s knives from my right wrist. I throw. He jerks to the side, and even with all his wounds, he spares me a smile for my missed shot.

But I wasn’t aiming for him.

Roman catches my knife and plunges it into Numerius’s neck. It’s not enough to kill him, but it is enough for him to drop Natasha, who lands on the pile containing her dead brother. Numerius turns toward Roman, blade still bobbing in his throat. The total calm and slowness in his movement are more terrifying than anything. He doesn’t need to use all his speed and strength. He’s just picking us off like we’re small nuisances. Not threats.

My magic feels endless, but it also feels as if it’s leaking from my seams, and I’m barely strong enough to keep it focused. I need control.

Roman meets my eyes. Breathe, he mouths.

Cecily launches herself onto Numerius’s back, swinging her club, which freezes in midair as she tugs on it. His legs flame and extinguish again and again. Numerius lunges for Roman at the same moment that Natasha rises from the pile of the dead, aiming two stakes at Numerius’s back. He grabs Roman’s throat with one hand and twists, shoving him into Natasha’s stakes.

I dart toward their tangled bodies and pull Roman off her as she snarls at me like she’s going to forget we’re on the same side and rip my heart out right now. I ignore her and yank the stakes from Roman’s stomach as he cringes. The wounds heal almost instantly. And Numerius’s wounds heal faster.

“Ava.” Roman’s grabbing me, pulling me to my feet, and I know Numerius is there, but I close my eyes and imagine Roman’s cool hands pressing against me, his mouth on my ear telling me to breathe.

I have to believe in myself.

I let out my breath and open my eyes to meet Numerius’s. I smile and let go. The magic springs from me, and it feels like a thousand vines sprouting from my pores, and there’s no need to tell each and every one what to do because my intent is clear. Real vines lurch from the ground, winding around Numerius’s legs and arms, but he’s breaking them as fast as I can grow them. I feel Diantha’s power tangled in there too, but it’s still not enough.

Until ice starts growing along the vines.