Not the firewender. The dancing flames paint highlights across his face, but his eyes glint purple, brighter than any human eye color. His arms lift. A sudden wind gusts around me, tangling my scarf and snagging my braid around my neck. The flames roar higher, twisting into an inferno. I recoil, pulling my limbs in tight to keep from being incinerated.

Then the tempest falters, and the man shouts, dropping to his knees. Millie, who must have swept in through the open door, flaps madly above his head, raking her claws against the back of his neck.

I’ve lost track of where the third shaman is, but I leap over the flames that singe my boots, heading toward Saengo, who’s made her way inside. There are too many burning obstacles between us. The fire bounds up the walls, smoke tumbling across the ceiling like a boiling cauldron.

“Saengo!” I choke out her name, but I can barely hear my own voice. There’s no way through, so I double back toward Jonyah. He’s grappling with the firewender, who wields a short sword. Smoke thrashes around them like something alive. I can tell Jonyah is holding his breath.

I crouch low, aiming my dagger for the firewender’s unprotected back. Before I can strike, Jonyah’s blade whips the sword from the firewender’s hand and then immediately slashes down his middle. Blood spatters the floor, sizzling in the heat. The firewender stumbles, clutching his chest where blood pours through his fingers. The roaring flames suddenly shiver and dampen.

Jonyah drags in a wheezing breath and his eyes catch mine. He lunges for me.

I block, but his strength shoves me back until I collide with the edge of a table. Pain shoots up my spine, echoing in my legs, and it takes all my strength to keep Jonyah’s dagger from piercing my chest. With a ferocious cry, I crush my knee into the vulnerable spot between his legs. His attack instantly falters. He staggers away. It only takes a second for me to leap onto him, my legs trapping Jonyah’s meaty neck as I twist my body and drag him off his feet.

He lands on his back with the crash of shuddering floorboards. I kick his dagger out of his reach and straddle his chest, pressing my blade to his neck.

“What are you doing?” I shout, my voice hoarse with smoke.

“Getting rid of my competition,” he snarls through his teeth, “which you’d do, too, if you had any sense!” His hand snaps up to grab my throat, but I jerk away and his fingers clutch my braid instead.