“I have abandoned no kingdom,” she replied. “I water all the lands that I see.”

Daric frowned. “Then…do you not see Leathen?”

She looked as confused as he. She seemed to have no answer and withdrew into the Cauldron again.

“Please!” Daric dashed after her. He stepped partway into the misty column, forgetting about the stone circle he wasn’t supposed to cross. “Can you see me? Can you see my kingdom?”

A vague form twirled in the cloud, rushing like a river, swirling like a tempest. He moved toward the shadow, and an icy sheet of water splashed across his face. He jerked back with a gasp.

“Do not step through, or you can never go back,” she warned. “Braylian will claim you, and you will race across the land and sky as weather.”

Daric retreated, his heart pounding in fright. The girl followed him halfway out. They began a gentle back and forth, almost a dance. She met his gaze, and her delighted smile put to shame the most beautiful of starlit nights.

“We’re in a terrible drought,” he said as they continued to sway together, sometimes Daric partway into the Cauldron, sometimes her partway out. “Can you help us?”

She threw a high-arching spray of water into the forest with a tinkling laugh.

“That’s wonderful.” Daric grinned. “But we need much more than that.”

She shook her head. “I see only you and the magic of the Cauldron. Everything else is dark.”

Hard hands suddenly ripped Daric away from her. He struggled but was no match for the large man dragging him back. He recognized Soren’s gruff voice as his father’s personal guard banded a heavy arm around his chest and told him to settle.

As though Soren’s words broke a spell, people appeared around him. His mother stood only a step away, pale with terror. Beside her, his father swung a calculating gaze back and forth between Daric and the girl, the gears of his mind visibly turning.

“No!” cried Daric a split second before King Wilder surged forward and clamped his hand around the girl’s wrist. With a decisive yank, he pulled her from the Cauldron.

She turned entirely to flesh as she crossed the stone circle. The vines covering her milky-white skin withered and died. Her silver hair stopped cascading water. Her eyes were the only part of her that still brimmed with moisture, and she stood there, shaking.

Daric shoved away from Soren and ran to her, throwing his cloak around her shoulders. He tugged it closed to cover her, and she clutched at the garment, her legs trembling like a newborn foal’s. She seemed barely able to hold up her weight, even though she was as slight as a sapling.

“Can you make it rain, child?” the king asked urgently, bending down close to her. “I will give you all that I have for rain.”