The arrow punches into the nearest dragon’s head, and the beast veers east then explodes with a crackling boom into a churning ball of green flame.

Olilly gapes at the sight as a draft of heat slams into them.

“Holy gods,” Nym’ellia breathes out as two more dragons advance and Fyon nocks another arrow. “I’m glad you’re a metal sorcerer.”

“It comes in handy,” Fyon agrees, raptor-focused as he fires again and hits the second dragon, triggering another fiery explosion that has Olilly gaping anew. “Get inside, all of you,” he sternly directs, but Olilly remains frozen.

A hand wraps tightly around her arm and she jerks up her head to meet Kirin’s stare. “Let’s go,” he says, urgent and encouraging at the same time, decidedly taking her hand in his.

Emboldened, she sets off at a sprint with him and Nym’ellia toward the ship’s prow as another explosion sounds behind them. They rush inside her bedroom, and Olilly freezes again as her eyes light on Kirin’s hateful father, Zosh Lyyo, slumped on her bed, holding a cloth to his bleeding head.

He meets Olilly’s gaze, and she recoils at the sight of the awful man. He seems dazed, blinking at Olilly’s and Kirin’s linked hands with a look of pure cognitive dissonance. Little Ghor’li has somehow found her way in here as well and is huddled in a corner, her sapphire eyes wide with terror as she sobs, and Olilly’s heart twists at the sight.

She lets go of Kirin’s hand and moves toward the child just as the ship pitches and she falls sideways against the room’s circular window, Nym’ellia and Kirin slamming against it to either side of her. Ghor’li screams and scuttles to Olilly, clutching at her tunic. Olilly pulls her into a protective embrace, the entire ship jostling and vibrating, as she’s suddenly so overwhelmed with fear and outrage she can barely pull in a breath.

The ship levels off, and she rounds on Zosh Lyyo, remembering the slurs he hurled at them. How he told them they should get out of the Eastern Realm.

Noilaan for the Noi.

“Now do you see?” Olilly lashes out at him. “Do you finally understand what we were running from? Why we had no choice but to come here?” Her eyes sting with tears as the pent-up outrage breaks through. “Why did you have to call us names for it? Why?”

Zosh Lyyo meets Olilly’s gaze, his whole face tensing, and Olilly can’t tell if it’s with anger or remorse.