Gripping her rune stone, she pulls on its sizzling flow of elemental amplification power. Then she lifts her other hand, palm out to the river, along with the entire line of Asrai, and draws on her river’s power. A cool, potent current of it streams into her in a glorious, invigorating rush.

My sweet river.

She can sense Fyordin’s connection in it, part of the river’s power tethered to him. She stiffens, striving to wall off Fyordin’s aura as she gathers the Vo’s energy.

“Deploy your Asrai’myyr!” Fyordin charges.

A line of waterspouts explode into being along the river’s surface, most thin and compact, Asra’leen’s a slender, reverse waterfall encircled by glittering rainbows as it spouts white foam high into the sky.

Tierney hurls her gathered power toward her palm, pulse quickening in a flash of panic as she catches the backflow of Fyordin’s kindred power in it. Their combined energy blasts from her hand to the Vo and forms a thick waterspout, its violently churning column of water thrusting up to collide with the low-slung clouds above. It whirls wider and wider in a strengthening typhoon, consuming all the other waterspouts in its chaotic, lashing pillar.

“Draw down your power!” Fyordin snarls as he stalks toward her.

Tierney yanks her hand down and drops the rune stone, severing her connection to the spout, the quick break feeling like the slash of a whip against the underside of her skin as Fyordin’s power slingshots through her and back to him. The waterspout falls apart with a huge splash that slaps onto the terrace, drenching all of the assembled Asrai.

Soaked through and breathing hard, Tierney reluctantly turns to find Fyordin’s eyes storming with fury as he stares her down. “Control your water sourcing, Asrai!”

“I didn’t mean to draw on your power,” Tierney growls back. “It just happened.”

Fyordin’s gaze turns cyclonic. “No. You let it happen. Control your power, Soldier-Apprentice Calix, as we’ve practiced. Or you will not deploy!”

Anger ignites in Tierney, fierce and tidal. “You’re supposed to be teaching me how to control it! What we’ve practiced isn’t working!”

Fyordin’s magic slashes through hers as their joint aura rampages around them. A dark cloud breaks free of Tierney’s control to form over her head.

She curses under her breath as Fyordin eyes the cloud with obvious aggravation. He takes another confrontational step toward her, his water-slicked face less than a handspan from hers. “It’s not working because you’re acting against my power, not with it,” he seethes. “You’re trying to claim the Vo River as yours and yours alone when it has claimed us both. Put the river before your petty territorial dispute. The Vo decides who it bonds to. Not you.”