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The queen immediately stopped shaking, her lips tipping up into a sharp, deadly smile as she said, almost sweetly, “Now you get to meet Sarana and Torvin.”

Galdric frowned and opened his mouth —

But the only thing that came out was a scream.

The rings had caught fire, the flames blazing up his arm to cover his entire body.

It lasted all of five seconds, the ancient magic powerful and near-instant, before both Galdric and the rings were nothing but ash.

Kiva stood there, staring down at the pile of gray on the carpet, certain she was going to vomit.

But she didn’t have time, because Navok roared,“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?”

And then all hell broke loose, since Flox decidedthatwas the moment he was going to protect his charges, the silverbear leaping forward to sink his teeth into Navok’s leg.

The Mirraven king yelped and automatically used his dagger to swipe at the creature — but in doing so, Tipp became free.

Which was what Ariana had been waiting for.

“NOW!”the queen yelled, and suddenly, water, wind, and earth were erupting in the room, with her own magic along with Mirryn’s and Oriel’s shooting straight for the anomalies.

Kiva acted instinctively, using the chaos to lunge forward and grab Tipp, hauling him backwards to duck behind the crystalline piano. From there, she peered out to see the anomalies returning fire on the Vallentis royals, ice spearing through the air, marble falling from the ceiling, wind tearing through the room. Xuru was throwing his flames with abandon, causing the carpet and couches to catch alight, the smoke cloying even after Ariana’s water snuffed the blazes out.

All the while, Navok continued slashing uselessly at Flox, who was bounding between his legs and attacking with claws and teeth, the image of which would have been hilarious if the room hadn’t been exploding around them.

Kiva realized then: the Vallentis royals had been biding their time until Tipp wasn’t at risk of Navok’s blade, and now they had been unleashed. Even against an overwhelming number of opponents, they werea force to be reckoned with, having trained their whole lives for a magical battle like this, just like —

Jaren,Kiva realized. She had to get to him. But first —

“Ariana!” Kiva cried, waving to the queen, who had been forced to the far side of the expansive room, where she was holding ground in front of the fireplace.

The monarch was surrounded though, too distracted to hear Kiva’s call.

Oriel, however, was close enough to come running, and he dove behind the piano with them, wide-eyed but still sending his magic out to help his family.

Knowing what she had to do, Kiva looked at Tipp, holding his scared eyes as she ordered, “Don’t move from this spot, do you hear me? Not until it’s safe.”

At his immediate nod, she looked to the young prince and begged, “Look after him.”

“I will,” Oriel promised solemnly, before lobbing a boulder at an anomaly who had noticed them hiding and was headed their way. The rock struck the man hard in the head, taking him off his feet — and he didn’t get up again.

Kiva didn’t linger, rising from her crouch and sprinting across the room. A gust of wind slammed into her, but it did nothing, the magic in her amulet protecting her. But then a wave of water came from one of Navok’s anomalies, crashing against her and pushing her to the ground. Mirryn was there in an instant, tugging her up and throwing out a hand, sending the anomaly flying.

“All right?” the princess asked over the sounds of shattering glass and cracking walls.

“I need to get to your mother,” Kiva choked out, drenched and coughing.

“I’ll cover you,” Mirryn said, propelling Kiva forward.

Running again, Kiva dodged as much of the magic as she could, aware that she couldn’t risk the amulet becoming depleted. Not if it was what she thought it was.

Finally arriving across the room, she sought shelter behind a crimson chaise next to the fireplace where Ariana stood tall and proud, fighting anomaly after anomaly, even as more poured into the room from the hallway.

“It was never the rings, was it?” Kiva called to her, remembering the queen’s words —Sarana knew this might happen one day— along with the single flick of Ariana’s eyes, when her gaze had moved downward for the briefest of seconds.

Toward the amulet.

“It was, once,” Ariana panted as she jumped over a whipping vine before slicing it in half with an ice blade. “But instead of giving them away, Sarana had replicas made, a dead-man’s trap should anyone seek to use them. She melted the real rings down, keeping them in our family to protect us in other ways.”