Pixit flew forward—​at least she thought it was forward—​toward the darker clouds. Mina wondered which way was north and whether they were flying toward the school or away from it. Remember, we’re supposed to stay on the outskirts. Let the older guardians harvest the lightning.

«I can feel it, Mina!»

She felt his excitement—​it coursed into her until she was eagerly watching the clouds, trying to see where the next strike would be. The trick to harvesting from thunderclouds, she’d been told, was to intercept the strikes—​you had to gather the energy before it finished discharging.

In other words, you had to catch the lightning.

There!

She saw the bolt this time: a white line that snaked through the cloud and then branched into a dozen different fingers. In the light she saw a storm beast swoop beneath it, and the bolt vanished as the guardian caught its energy and his beast absorbed it—​and then all was dark again.

Crack.

She could feel the tingle—​it was stronger to the left. Left!

Pixit flew left, beating his wings against the rain. She wiped the water from her face with one hand, then clutched his scales again, blinking fast to try to see. She heard shouts around her: “Next one!” “Ready!” “I feel it!” “It’s coming! Catch it before it strikes!”

Lightning.

Beautiful, white, branching into a hundred different lines right in front of them.

CRACK.

And then beasts were flying fast around her, past her. One bashed against Pixit’s wings. He dipped sideways, then struggled to stay aloft. Mina slipped to the side. «Mina!» She squeezed tight and yanked herself back up between his shoulder blades.

A blast of rain and wind slammed into Pixit, catching his wing and flipping him over. Mina screamed, clinging hard to him as he tumbled through the air.

Somersaulting wing over wing, he fought against the wind and rain. «Hang on, Mina!»

She held on.

She knew others were in the storm, lots of others. Jyx was somewhere. And Zek and Ferro, and all the other students and their storm beasts, as well as the guardians who’d come to harvest the lightning. But with the storm around her, Mina felt as if she and Pixit were alone.

«We can do this! Just hang on!»

Another strike, directly in front of them, and immediately crack! Pixit reared back, and Mina’s fingers slipped on the wet feathered scales. She scrambled to grab on, but with all the rain, his hide was slick.

I can’t hold on!

His feathers slid through her fingers. She grabbed at empty air.

A scream burst out of her: “Pixit!”

He dove for her. «Mina!»

His claws seized her shoulder, and she felt a sharp pain shoot through her arm. He loosened immediately, and she grabbed on to his leg.

A voice called through the cloud. “Mina?”