She scowled. “Why’d you stop?”

Annika grabbed Sylvi in a tight hug. “Are you okay?”

“What’s the matter?” Sylvi asked, struggling to disentangle herself.

Annika’s cheeks reddened. “Nothing. I … Sorry,” she mumbled to Eryk.

He shrugged.

“I’ve just never seen anything like that up close.”

He picked up his stick and dragged it back through the current of the stream.

“Listen,” Annika said, “I’m sorry. I—”

She was interrupted by the sounds of voices. Three boys crashed into the clearing, shoving at one another and laughing. Annika stepped away from Eryk, her shoulders tense.

“Come out to practice, Annika?” asked the tallest of the boys when he saw them. He had the same red-gold hair as the Ulle. “You certainly need it.”

Annika took Sylvi’s hand. “We were just leaving, Lev.”

The boy glanced at Eryk. “You’re the other shadow summoner, aren’t you? You came with the Black Witch.”

“Don’t use that word,” Annika snapped.

“What’s the big deal?”

“If you’d seen a drüskelle raid, you’d know. Come on, Sylvi, let’s go.”

“I don’t want to,” said Sylvi.

Lev grinned. “Don’t leave on our account.” He twisted his wrists, and two little gusts of air spiraled to life, lifting pine needles off the ground and forming tiny cyclones. They whirred over the creek, gathering water, then bounced free to spin over the forest floor like tops.

Sylvi clapped her hands and chased one down the bank. “You make one, Annika.”

“Yeah, you make one,” said Lev, exchanging a knowing glance with the other boys.

Annika flushed a deeper red. She took a breath and raised her hands. The water swelled from the creek’s surface in a shivering arc. Sylvi gave a triumphant whoop. As Annika twisted her wrists, the water spiraled slowly left, then collapsed in a splash.

The two boys burst out laughing, but Lev just shook his head.

“Weak,” he said, “just like your father. You should spend more time training and less time playing with that runt.”

Sylvi frowned. “What’s a runt?”

Lev bent to look Sylvi in the eye and smiled. His voice was friendly, warm as honey. “You’re a runt, lapushka. Small and stunted and useless. A little otkazat’sya mistake.”

Sylvi’s lip trembled. Eryk stood, unsure of what he meant to do. His mother wouldn’t want him to get involved, particularly in a conflict with the Ulle’s son.

But before he could say a word, Annika gave Lev a hard shove. “Leave her alone.”

Lev smirked. “She shouldn’t be here. This is a Grisha camp.”

“Some people don’t show their power until later.”

“She’s otkazat’sya, and you know it. One more weakling in a family full of weaklings. She should go. Hell, you should all go. You can’t carry your own weight.”

“That isn’t your decision.”

“No, it’s my father’s decision. Maybe we should just drown the runt now. Put her out of her misery.” He took a step toward Sylvi.

“I said leave her alone.”

Annika raised her arms and, maybe because of her anger, the water whipped from the creek surface in a slash of stinging spray. But she was no match for Lev. With the barest wave of his hand, the water dissipated into mist.