Silence. The howling of the wind between the peaks is growing more inhuman with each inch the sun falls in the sky.

Olani is the first to speak. “Is that really what you think?”

I’m not like her or Isolde. I’m not a warrior, and I never will be. What I am is a danger, just as much to myself and everyone I want to defend as to our enemies. Besides, I remind myself, I don’t want to be a warrior. I don’t want to hurt anyone.

Too late for that.

I bury my face in my hands, blinking away tears that rudely try to force their way up my throat. I just want all this to be over.

But I’ve already said that so many times, I don’t want to hear it again.

Raze sighs, and I feel a brush of warmth as he edges closer. Gently, he pulls my hands away from my face, forcing me to look up at him.

“Look,” he says, bending down so I won’t have to stretch my neck to see his face. I can’t meet his eyes, so I alternate between his almost-grown-back-in eyebrows and over his shoulder. “You’re doing fine. We shouldn’t have put so much pressure on you. Just...try it again.” He gives my hands a squeeze before releasing them. “We’re all here for you. You don’t have to be afraid.”

I look into his eyes for the space of a heartbeat. “That’s exactly what I’m afraid of,” I reply. But I turn around, focusing once more on the bottle.

“You’ve got this!” Olani encourages.

“Yeah!” Isolde whoops, voice echoing off the rocks. “That’s my sister!”

I breathe out a shaky laugh, reaching for my magic. This time, I don’t try telling it exactly what to be. I don’t pull it back as it rushes forward. I just give it direction, a nudge.

Heat washes over my hands. The force of it almost knocks me down, but I push back against it. My magic is free to go, but it is not free to rule over me.

This time, my enchantment takes the form of a small, bright yellow ball of flame that envelops the bottle before extinguishing in a flash behind it.

The glass cracks, bursting in on itself with a crunch and a whine.

I let my hands flop to my sides, small drops of cold sweat breaking out on my brow. I’m shaking, but I’m fine. We’re all fine. For once, I mastered my magic and not the other way around.

So why is there a coil of disappointment lingering at the back of my neck, the impulse to set the forest ablaze lingering in my outstretched fingertips? I pull my hands back to my sides quickly, even as that voice whispers, Do it. Stop this farce of control and embrace it.

Everyone stares at me in varying degrees of shock.

“Better?” I say pointedly, ignoring the tremble of my voice.

The tide of their excitement washes over me, covering the eerie sound of the wind and floating my anxieties away. I know I can’t afford to lose my worries forever. My cautious streak is the only thing that’s kept me alive this long. But for a moment, it feels good to pretend.