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From a distance, it didn’t feel like so many people. Closer, I start to wonder if I can actually take on an entire army. Suddenly, my magic doesn’t feel like enough. I hover in a cloud to conceal myself, reaching out with my power, feeling the air around the city. How far can I stretch it? Can I wrap it around the entire army? Farther and farther, I push out, until I feel all the people along the city wall and curl my magic around the edges where they stop by the shore. This is much too large. I can’t make a shield so big. What then? I can’t just catch their fire bit by bit. They need to be sent away.

I take a deep breath. If they cover too much space, constrict them. I can fortify borders… like Jamys told me about the game.

A gale builds over the water at my beckoning, circling to gain momentum so when I pull it to shore, it whips into the army with enough force to uproot trees. Tents fly away. Men brace against it, but the wind pushes them into each other, and they slide away from the shore in a writhing heap of limbs. As if with a great broom, I sweep everyone and everything away from the sea, squeezing the army together in an ever more crowded cluster.

The wind’s deafening roar is the only sound to be heard, even as the mass of people scrambles. Once I’ve illustrated my capabilities, and they look sufficiently uncomfortable, I descend to the wall. Standing above this host of my enemy, a storm of my own creation blowing my braided hair to my side, an intoxicating sense of power rolls through me—not magical power, but that which I can wield over man.

And I feel like the monster Penum paints me to be.

I hold out a hand and lower it. The gale dissipates. “This is your opportunity to return to your own kingdom.” The air carries my voice across the army. “Ceraun is under the protection of Alchos. We do not wish to go to war with you but make no mistake—if you cross us, it will be like no war you can conceive. Retreat now, before—”

Another roar from the other side of the city, but this one isn’t wind: it’s water. A wave higher than the walls grows as it races toward the shore. The wall of water slams into the left flank, crushing everything in its path. I shoot across the wall to the southern end of the city.

Where is he? But it isn’t Marcus I find. Siege towers spontaneously combust into pillars of flame as Nina struts toward me along the wall, Tomas on her heels.

“What are you doing here?” I demand.

They both shout at the same time. Bits of ‘What the hell is wrong with you?’ mix with ‘You conceited—’

“I was handling the situation. Where is Marcus?”

Tomas plants his hands on his hips. “Taking Ry to the north end.”

I roll my eyes. “Did everyone really need to come?”

An arrow flies toward us but burns and drops as nothing more than ash. “Yes,” Nina says.

“No, you did not. This is perfectly under control.”

“It’s an army, Bell!” Tomas points out over it in case I’d missed that. “You cannot take down an entire army by yourself.”

“Didn’t you say you trusted me to take care of myself?”

“This is not taking care of yourself.” The words snap out of Tomas so quickly, they could be a whip. “This is taking on too much for one person.”

An outcropping of rock juts up from in front of the city wall and slowly pushes the offending army. Marcus glides toward us along the wall as thick, tangled brambles sprout up along the edges of the now-compacted army, giving them only one way to go—away.

The stone barrier presses on, the retreat chaos made human. People trample each other, trying to avoid the thorny walls at their borders. Tomas fixes me with a hard gaze but says nothing.

“I… left a note this time.”

He closes his eyes as if summoning patience. Excellent. I’ve alienated myself from Jamys on his behalf and gotten on Tomas’ bad side.

“Where is your fleet?” I ask.

“On their way. I joined Ry and the twins as they were overtaking the bigger ships, and Marcus only sped us up.” His eyes darken. “Though there isn’t much of a reason for the rest to come now, I suppose.”

“You say that as if it’s a bad thing.”

He only shakes his head before we’re joined by Rylan, Jamys… and Urian. Tomas’ hands snap into fists, and I brush a cool breeze along his face to calm and reassure him. His jaw tightens instead.

“Thank you all,” Urian says. “It’s a true testament to the Queen to send all of you here to aid us.”

No one corrects him, but a glance at my siblings tells me Mother did not send them after me.

“It would be our honor,” Jamys says, looking at all of us except Tomas and me, “to escort you to the fortress where you can rest.”

“Thank you,” Rylan says. “We can stay only one night. Your hospitality is much appreciated.”