Tierney glares at him, thrust into emotional chaos over being river-bonded to someone as infuriating as Fyordin. Someone so intractably prejudiced against all Gardnerians, including her beloved Gardnerian friends and adoptive family who recently immigrated to Voloi. “You’re the last person on Erthia I want to share the Vo with,” she lashes out, crystal clear that she’s crossed the line into insubordination.

“I’m well aware,” he snarls back, his power a riptide. “But the fact remains—true Asrai do not work against their waters!”

“I’m sick of you insinuating I’m not a true Asrai!”

“Then behave like one!”

The cloud above Tierney’s head spits out threads of lighting. “You want me to work with your power?” she fumes, moving toward him. “Fine, Fyordin.”

Incensed beyond reason, Tierney grips Fyordin’s muscular upper arm. Wresting hold of their joint power, she raises a palm to the sky and hurls it upward, whipping the clouds into motion.

The sky darkens to roiling slate, then darkens further as the cloud frenzy blows out fierce gusts of wind. The Vo’s waves grow choppy as countless bolts of lightning scythe down over the river, the Wyvernguard, and the city of Voloi in a series of explosive, dazzling white cracks.

Stunned, Tierney gasps and releases Fyordin just as he reaches up to grab hold of her in turn, his grip firm around her upper arms, the anger in his eyes vanished, only a look of astonishment remaining as torrential rain breaks out over the city.

“That was extraordinary,” Fyordin breathes as their powers cyclone around each other.

“Asrai Fae’kin!” a voice booms, and they turn.

A soldier is striding toward them, sharp face unforgiving. “You are both summoned to Commander Ung Li’s chambers immediately.”

Ung Li’s eyes belie her calm demeanor as their spike-haired commander stares at them from behind her indigo, dragon-marked desk in her tower chambers.

“Commander Lir and Apprentice Calix,” she says. “Are you not sworn to protect Noilaan?” Her mouth is set in a tight line, as if she’s restraining herself from killing them both.

“We are,” Tierney answers in unison with Fyordin as their water powers covetously eddy toward each other. Tierney yanks her power back, enraged and flustered by his damned Asrai effect on her. She shoots Fyordin a sidelong glare to find his lip giving a slight, obnoxious lift that makes her want to blast magic at his ridiculously handsome face.

“Does raining lightning down on Voloi seem like something you would do to protect it?” Ung Li inquires.

Remorse spears through Tierney.

“No, Nor Ung Li,” both she and Fyordin answer as Tierney fights the urge to shoot him another glare.

“Commander Lir,” Ung Li states, clasping her hands on the desk before her. “I’m relieving you of your position as Commander of the Asrai Division.”

Tierney can feel the sudden undertow of outrage rip through Fyordin’s power.