As soon as Marina opens fire, Dust comes screeching down from the sky. Now in the shape of a gray-winged falcon, the Chimæra rakes its talons across the face of one of the warriors holding Adam.

The Mogs shout and scatter. They’re totally confused—it must look like their turret has been possessed by a ghost. Phiri Dun-Ra has the presence of mind to squeeze off some blaster fire that deflects off the turret’s windshield, but then she ducks for cover. Marina continues to strafe them, although she’s careful to avoid the area around Adam.

With Dust taking down one of the warriors, Adam elbows his second captor in the stomach. When he doubles over, Adam shoves him backwards, right into the invisible border around the Sanctuary. With a flare of cold, blue energy, the shield surrounding the temple reveals itself—it’s like a giant electrical web stretched into the shape of a dome. The Mog flares up like the tip of a matchstick when he hits the force field. His body leaves a coating of ash that seems to float in the air once the shield disappears again, until a gentle gust of wind blows it away.

Freed from his captors, Adam throws himself onto his stomach. Right away, Marina swings the turret around to take out the Mogs cluttered around him. A few of them, including Phiri Dun-Ra, have made it to the cover of one of the parked ships. Even though they can’t see us, they return fire on the turret. Our gun soon begins to belch smoke and rattle dangerously.

“It’s overheating!” I yell. “Jump!”

Marina and I dive in opposite directions as the turret explodes in a cloud of acrid black smoke. We’re visible and without any cover to speak of.

Before the surviving Mogs can take aim, Adam pounds his fist against the ground. A tremor ripples in their direction and knocks the Mogs off their feet. I use the distraction to roll beneath one of the other ships, already channeling my Legacy to call down a storm.

The sky darkens and it begins to rain. Out here in the jungle, it’s a cinch to call up this kind of weather, but I’m still a few seconds away from channeling lightning and I’m not sure I’ll be quick enough. Phiri and her troops are already drawing a bead on me, their blaster fire scoring the wet dirt in front of my position.

That’s when a fist-sized hailstone strikes Phiri right in her bald head. She falls back, shielding herself.

I notice Marina hiding behind a stack of crates. She’s focusing intently on the raindrops, turning them to ice around the Mogs and knocking them senseless with hail. I feel the storm above reach a boiling point and let loose with a jagged stripe of lightning. Phiri manages to dive aside at the last second, but her last two warriors are electrocuted into dust.

And then, to my surprise, Phiri Dun-Ra runs. Without even a look over her shoulder, the Mog trueborn bolts into the nearby jungle.