There. It tugs in my chest, and I feel a burst of energy. I coax out the part of myself that responds when I call, desperate for a gasp of air after so long below the surface. For any release.

Yes!

No, I tell my magic, reining it back to the tips of my fingers. Less. I ball my hands into fists and then stretch out my fingers again, sliding the magic into balance. Into a focused concentration of what I want it to be.

I’ll start with a breeze. I’ll try not to remember Aris’s green eyes going glassy as the breath left her lungs. This time, instead of a raging storm, I’ll make it something precise, wielded as intentionally as Isolde wields her blades. A burst of wind rushes forward, skimming happily under my palms.

On the rock, the bottle wobbles, but it doesn’t explode or crash over or anything exciting that would have us picking fragments of glass out of our faces for weeks.

I let out a cry of triumph, pumping my fist in the air. Everyone else cheers half-heartedly. I mean, I know it wasn’t spectacular, but I thought that was better than actually smashing the bottle. It was control.

“What’s wrong?” I turn to my audience—Raze less than half a step behind me, Isolde and Olani still sitting by the fire.

They all hesitate, meeting each other’s eyes, then mine, then the rocks behind me.

Finally, Isolde speaks. “I think we just expected a little...more.”

Olani scrapes the bottom of her bowl, her face scrunched with concentration. “You’re a very powerful enchanter, Seelie.”

Raze frowns. “A refreshing breeze is nice and all, Iselia, but...it’s not going to help anyone in a fight. I can tell you’re holding back. You’re still scared of your power.”

My left hand curls in the folds of my skirt, and my jaw clenches tight. “Well, wouldn’t you be?”

He studies me carefully, pushing his messy hair away from his face. “You have no idea what I’d give to have what you do.” His words are bitter and jealous but delivered in a dissolving package of sugary cheerfulness, which strikes me harder than if he’d yelled at me.

My face warms, and I hope the blush won’t show up in the dark. “I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

Isolde crosses her arms, leaning forward. “Well, you might have to.”

“Especially not any of you.” I stare at my sister as the words escape, refusing to even glance at Olani or Raze. I don’t care how they react. “For Fate’s sake, look at me.” I hold my arms out and pull up a sleeve to reveal more of my scarred skin. It’s still sinking in for me that this isn’t going to heal, not the way it was before, and the sight makes my stomach turn. “It’s all fun and games, knocking over bottles and trying to bend magic to my will, until something like this happens to one of you. It’s not—” My voice breaks. I take a deep breath, swallowing the heavy silence, and try again. “It’s not worth it. I’m not worth it.”