Or’myr’s fireline ignites with a potent rush of lightning, and I’m astonished by its strength, wondering, again, if Tierney has any inkling of her effect on my enigmatic cousin.

Or’myr swallows, reaching out to Tierney, his composure fraying. “So...um,” he stammers, “you’ll need to take my hand.”

Tierney shoots him a quizzical look, then nods and slides her hand into his.

A startlingly powerful confluence of magic hits me as Or’myr’s fire aura crackles out to meet Tierney’s water power in an invisible, heated explosion of violet steam. Their gazes lock tight, both of their eyes widening. A shiver runs through them both, the two of them seeming shocked by their magic’s heated amplification. Or’myr murmurs a spell, and they appear to get a hold of themselves as he focuses Tierney’s power into a steadier stream toward the crystal he has pressed to my abdomen.

“On my mark.” Sage holds her palm up as Trystan and Lucretia bring the tips of their wands close to Or’myr’s stone and murmur spells. “Go,” Sage orders, and their wands touch down on the amethyst.

I gasp as a hard rush of Tierney’s power storms into me at the same time I’m flooded with Trystan’s and Lucretia’s water magery. Feeling submerged in oceanic depths, everything shimmers around me and I let out a wavering breath, my waterlines strengthening until they hold as much power as my earth-and firelines.

Or’myr holds up a hand. “It’s level,” he says, the lavender water rune now rotating in a blur.

Trystan and Lucretia retract their wands and step back, along with Tierney, her eyes meeting Or’myr’s for a brief, magic-shivering moment as his violet lightning aura forks around her, and I’m surprised to sense Tierney’s Asrai power coursing out toward him in a rushing tide.

Forcibly reining in his besotted magic, Or’myr places the amethyst on the wind rune. Fain shoots me an affectionate smile as he steps forward with Thierren and they feed magic into my windlines, a tempestuous current blowing through me as my wind rune speeds to a blur.

“Your turn, Sagellyn,” Or’myr announces. He moves his stone to the motionless rune.

Light.

Sage’s violet eyes meet mine, a look of deep import on her face as she places her wand’s tip onto Or’myr’s stone, closes her eyes, and begins to sound out a series of spells.

Violet light rays from the rune as a fire strike of purple flashes through my lines.

Sage draws back her wand and Or’myr removes the stone, all five elemental runes now lit up lavender and whirring against my skin, which has glamoured to violet, my fastlines once more hidden from view. Sage’s eyes flick over the runes, as if she’s reading a complicated mathematical formula, my sense of the momentous building.

“What now?” I ask.