Han crossed against traffic to Southbridge, slipping and sliding down the muddy slope to the riverside garden. Dancer slumped against Cat, eyes closed, his brilliance faded to a dull glow.

“He’s done in,” Cat said, raking back his wet braids and peering anxiously into his face.

Han sat down next to them, taking hold of Dancer’s amulet and feeding it a little power from his depleted supply.

Dancer opened his eyes, feeling the rush of flash.

“That was amazing, what you did,” Han said. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Dancer smiled. “You jinxflingers always underestimate the power of earth magic,” he whispered. “The focus is narrow, but within that range…”

“It’s earth magic and high magic together,” Han said. “It just shows what we could do if we’d quit snarling at each other.”

The rain was finally letting up, though water puddled everywhere. And here came Raisa and Speaker Jemson descending toward them. Jemson carried a basket in one hand.

Raisa skidded to a stop in front of Dancer and Cat, a kelpie of a queen in sodden finery. “Fire Dancer,” she said. “I must admit, I had doubts, but you have exploded them. You saved Southbridge and maybe the rest of the city.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Dancer said. He nodded toward Jemson and Han and Cat. “It wasn’t only me.”

“Thank you, all of you!” Raisa said, gripping Dancer’s hands, then Han’s, then Cat’s, then Jemson’s.

Jemson unloaded his basket, handing out bread and cheese and a jug of cider to Dancer.

But Han couldn’t eat—not with his stomach roiled with worry. “Cat. Could you come with me to the old temple? Hallie, Talia, and a bunch of people were holed up in there. They may need help.”

Cat looked at Dancer. “Go,” he urged. “I’m feeling better. I just need to eat and rest some.”

“I’ll see that he’s well cared for,” Raisa said. She touched Han’s arm. “Take some guards with you. And be careful.”

Han and Cat led a half dozen bluejackets into the smoldering ruins, snaking around obstacles. They headed away from the river, toward the Market Temple. Along the way, they smothered flames and directed survivors toward the bridge. Han hoped his magic had held, and he’d managed to salvage something out of all this.

They passed through a charred wasteland, fuming smoke. Han’s optimism diminished, drained away by devastation. Cat pointed out one landmark after another—all gone. Many were sites of past crimes and street fights.