Aurora wished she were so confident. It was taking all her concentration to keep the storm above from bleeding into her thoughts and emotions. The magic barrier overhead was different this time, lighter, keeping the worst of the skyfire at bay, but allowing the rain to slip through. Oddly, the rain did not fall straight through, but instead gathered across the barrier like dew on a leaf and slowly dripped through in heaping droplets when the water became too heavy. Every now and then, a large splash would hit her arm or head or back, soaking her skin or hair or clothes. The lighter barrier also let more of the storm’s consciousness creep through, and she could feel it crooning to her, crackling in the air around them.

Shut it all out.

Aurora stepped up toe to toe with the gate, eighteen years of doubt and anxiety roiling in her belly. She could not recall how many times in her life she had stared at the skyfire workings of this gate and despaired that she would never be able to use them, to wield the power of her ancestors.

Everything was different now. She was different now. In every way. But she hoped that the skyfire storm that beat in her chest, unusual as it was, would still allow her to open the gates. In fact, she had already promised the rebellion it would. And if it didn’t, there was no guarantee they would not offer her up as their next bargaining chip.

She concentrated, focusing on the foreign energy that resided in her chest, and laid her hand flat against the cool glass and metal that comprised the gate. The storm in her chest was not entirely separate from her, nor was it completely woven into her own makeup. But when she reached for the magic, it filled her in an instant. She sucked in a breath, overwhelmed by the intensity of otherness that crashed through her. The feeling turned to alarm as she felt an answering flare of magic from the storm overhead. The thunder exploded above; even the ground beneath her feet seemed to shake. Skyfire streaked across the sky, calling to her. She tilted her head back, gasping for breath. She could feel so much—the churning clouds in the sky and the trees shaking in the wind and all the little souls hunkered in their homes wondering if today would be the day that another storm broke through the Stormling’s barrier.

“Anytime now,” Jinx whispered under her breath.

Right. She had a mission. Two, technically. Slowly, Aurora came back to herself, focusing on the here and now instead of the expanse of the world around her. She built up her mental walls to quiet the true tempest, and concentrated on the one sparking frantically inside her. She imagined pushing it into the gate, using the magic to turn the clockwork wheels that would unlock it.