Mina stared at the students, all of whom were waiting for her to speak. She noticed that some of the teachers had come to listen too, including Vira, who, for the first time in days, was looking more curious than hostile. They’re listening to us. Mina began to smile. “Well, as it turns out, those essays were right,” she said softly, but they heard her. They were hanging on every word. “We saw the outsiders with our own eyes. And they’d clearly been through a storm. They said the worst storms come every ten years, exactly on the day of our festival. There’s a connection between what we do here and what happens there.”

“Whoa,” several of the students breathed together.

“So what do you think the prime minister is going to do?” the first student asked, wide-eyed.

Mina’s smile faded. “I don’t know. But I hope she does the right thing.” We’ve done our best. It’s up to her now.

They found out two days later, when the balloons began to arrive again with news. All the students were called into the front hall, where they gathered amid the lightning-blasted glass sculptures, and Professor Werrin stood before them.

“Students, I wish to update you on some unusual news, before rumors take hold, as they so often do,” Professor Werrin said. She scowled at a piece of paper in her hand. “As you know, the festival was interrupted by a visit from . . . our neighbors to the north. And to our surprise, they came to plead for our assistance. Their lands have been plagued by increasingly terrible storms, and there appears to be a connection between these storms and our use of the storm beasts. While Alorrian storm experts research this connection, the prime minister has permanently canceled the remainder of the planned festival activities—”

A cheer broke out among the students.

Looking around, Mina couldn’t tell who’d started it—​she didn’t think it was Jyx, Ferro, Zek, or any of the other students who had come with them on the rescue mission. The first cheer came from across the room, but it spread fast until the majority of students were cheering, whistling, and clapping. She joined in.

Thumping her cane on the floor, Professor Werrin caught their attention again. She read, “‘Furthermore, humanitarian aid will be extended to those who were impacted by the catastrophic storms. This offer of aid is not an admission of a causal relationship between our weather control and their storms. It is basic decency.’”