“The symbol of transformation and will. How fitting for this occasion. Well, good luck. I hope you burn bright today!”

I gulp. She hopes I burn bright? With four elemental fires, she has no idea….

The crowd applauds again, and Henry and Grace—the two kids who volunteered earlier—cheer the loudest. Jo steps forward and tosses me his lighter. “May you have beginner’s luck, kid,” he says. The lighter has one of those flick tops and the words NOT YOUR AVERAGE JO engraved on the front. I throw him a grateful look.

Then, as Austin raises the metal cage back into the sky, I cautiously approach the inmyeonjo.

Her eyes are piercing and unnaturally still. They blink once in the time that I’ve blinked ten. And I suddenly realize it was a bad idea to go last. She is now angrier than ever, having been singed, squashed, and scraped by the others. The creature lowers her head in a predatory way and opens her wings to their full width. She lets out a snarl/squawk and scratches the ground with her talons.

“Make your move, child,” she says with a hiss.

I look down at my hands. The lighter is shaking, and I realize it’s because I’m trembling. There are over a hundred pairs of eyes on me, and I have no idea what I’m doing. In the absence of a plan, I decide to take my new gift for a test drive. What have I got to lose?

I grab hold of Hattie’s heart vial. Then I repeat her line under my breath. “Sometimes you gotta burn your fingers to enjoy the s’more.”

I rub my wrists together, and, as the heat ignites on my right arm, I watch the gifted mark glow red. I flick the lighter until a small flame appears, and then close my eyes.

Taeyo said to imagine floating in the sea—to be one with the water. So I visualize lying on my back in the Pacific, looking up at the sky. I try to relax and stoke the flame. But when I think of the Pacific, I remember the summoning gone wrong and my sister’s unconscious body floating in the ocean. I recall dragging her limp body onto the sand and feeling more frightened than I ever had before.

The inmyeonjo chuckles and my eyes snap open. The lighter flame hasn’t grown—it has died out.

“Is that all you’ve got?” the bird-woman calls out. Her movements are rapid and jerky, taunting me.

“Don’t give up!” I hear someone yell. I think it’s Taeyo.

I grit my teeth and try Austin’s method. I reignite the lighter flame and stare intently into its core. I don’t blink, I don’t breathe, I just channel my entire concentration into the small flickering fire and will it to grow. Just a little.