All the pressure that had been slowly crushing closer and closer disappeared, leaving her dizzy at the change. She opened her eyes to find the clearing completely immersed in fog. She lifted her hand, noting that it disappeared as soon as her arm stretched to its full length. She knew the water was to her left, but she could no longer see it. Kiran was somewhere up ahead. She felt the intensity of his soul, determined and strong. Unlike their night in the desert, she was not afraid this time. He was winning this fight, and she knew it. It was only a matter of time before the fog surrendered its heart.

She was focused so intensely on the battle, on Kiran’s nearing victory, that she stopped paying attention to the rest of her surroundings. It was too late to do anything by the time she felt a presence at her back, one whose soul was complex and large and knit together from mismatched pieces like a patchwork quilt.

A hand clamped over her mouth, jerking her back hard enough to lose her footing. Another arm wound around her, constricting her movements, and hot breath invaded her ear.

She shuddered as a low, male voice said, “Come easily, or I will call another storm for your friend while he is distracted. What do you think will happen then? He will either die by my storm or lose focus and die by yours.”

Aurora’s heart crumpled, sinking somewhere into her stomach. Then she did the only thing she could do. Aurora nodded her agreement, and she let the Stormlord take her.

The waters continued to creep higher—claiming more of the city, more innocent lives, and the last vestiges of Finn’s faith in his uncle. The king continued to withdraw, leaving more and more of the fight to the soldiers who were too tired to hold the storms at bay. Finneus could not watch the slow destruction of his home for another moment. That night he began recruiting for his mission. He would save Calibah, or he would die trying.

—The Tale of Lord Finneus Wolfram

19

The door to Nova and Jinx’s room flew open without warning. That was how it always was, even for meals; the soldiers made a point of showing them that they could never get too comfortable here, even if their prince had ordered the girls be fed and treated with a modicum of respect.

Luckily, they only did their dangerous work at night, practicing with Nova’s magic, which more often than not left the two of them huddled close in one of the four beds in the room. Neither of them spoke about their tendency to sleep in the same bed after a round of practice. It did not happen every night, but when it did, they fell into the same routines without fail.