Han drained the cup and set it aside. Willo refilled it, seeming determined to drown him in it, until Elena impatiently motioned her away.

Elena slid her thumbs under the two cuffs. With a quick twisting motion she ripped them away and dropped them on the ground. Han stared down at his arms. The skin on his wrists was fish-belly pale where the cuffs had blocked the sun.

Then heat ripped through him, welling up from within and penetrating all the way to his fingers and toes. If he’d had any doubts about the story he’d been told, it was blasted away in a heartbeat.

It reminded Han of the time he’d drunk a cup of Lucius’s product on a dare. Lurid images rolled through his brain, colliding behind his eyes. His hair stood on end and flame rippled over his skin. Sparks dripped from him, burned holes in his shirt, scorched his leggings. He stretched out his arms, thinking he must look like one of the flaming straw men the clan erected at the harvest. What if he set the lodge on fire? It was built of wood, after all.

Panicking, he pushed himself up onto his feet and blindly staggered to the door, out into the cool night air.

Han heard Elena shout, “Fire Dancer, go after him, help him.”

Han felt incandescent, illuminated, lighter than he’d ever felt before. He was a flame in a lamp of a body that threatened to dissolve at any moment. He extended his hands, and they glowed in the darkness, bone shining through flesh.

Then Dancer gripped his hands, power flowed between them, and that somehow stabilized him.

“Blood and bones,” Dancer said. “You can’t just turn it loose like that. Settle yourself, or you’ll burn down the whole camp.” He thrust something hard and cold into Han’s hands. “Here. Try this. Release it slowly, and this will take it up.”

It was the amulet Dancer had been given at his naming ceremony, the clan dancer surrounded by flames.

Han took a deep breath, let it out, and focused on the amulet. Magic seemed to flow into the carving through his hands, and the rivulets of flame under his skin died to a trickle. In a matter of minutes he felt drained and less incendiary.

“Thank you,” Han whispered, handing the amulet back to Dancer.

“I’ve learned a few things by trial and error,” Dancer said. “You can store magic in these things and save it for later.”

“Will that cause a problem?” Han asked. “My magic—your amulet?”