Twelve swallowed her confusion as he swooped closer to her. “Enough playing with axes,” he hissed in her ear. “Now you must fight.”

She just had time to feel annoyed before he landed on her shoulder and pressed his burning palm to her cheek. Pain blossomed across her face, but she couldn’t pull away. Like a rabbit caught in torchlight, she was frozen by what he conveyed through his touch. Fire flowed between them, restless and hungry. And there, at the center of it, was the catch to the window that she’d found accidentally in Poa.

Except now she could see it clearly and it seemed laughably simple to open. How had a firesprite known that when she hadn’t?

Hiding from yourself.

Twelve was almost certain the pointed thought had come from him rather than her.

Somewhere far away and behind her, the Croke’s voice, barely recognizable, shrieked out the danger.

“Now!” Sharpspark whispered, and she saw he was right. Morgren had stormed away from his soldiers and stood apart. Light swirled in his cupped hands as he whispered a new horror into being.

Twelve bit her lip. In Poa, it had been a formless fury that had caused such destruction. This time was different: people were relying on her, people she cared about. If she did this right, perhaps she could save them. She needed to concentrate, just as she had focused on the sprites in the gorge, otherwise she might incinerate them all.

She thought first of Poppy with all her stolen laughter. Then of her parents and all her friends in Poa; of Seven, so pale and weak after her ordeal; of everything they’d been through to try and get her back; of Skin and the pride Morgren had taken in the wounds it inflicted . . .

“Enough!” Sharpspark gasped, his palm still burning on her cheek. “More than enough!”

Heat was building and spreading through her. She could feel thick ropes of it twisting in her veins. Faster and stronger it flowed, winding itself through her emotions and building in intensity. Her fingers throbbed painfully and, without thinking, Twelve ripped off her glove and raised her hand, pushing open the mysterious window at the same time.

And with it came the fire.

Chapter

Fifty

She had known what was going to happen, but the sheer power of it still surprised her. Flames blasted from her fingertips in a golden, writhing burst. They rushed over the heads of the Hunters and goblins as Morgren released his newly formed spell. The two magics met in midair and Morgren’s was hurled straight back at him. It hit him squarely in the chest, slamming him to the ground. Twelve’s fire tore past to explode against the lodge walls.