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“I’d be nothing but delighted to! Shall we open her up and take a peek, then?”

Fire inside the library was determined to be a fool’s game. With the book in hand, and a few others that Eldacar deemed necessary for their task, they found a safe spot near the western border, inside the shield. And just as she’d done with the replica of her obsidian dagger, she began to ask her powers to mold a piece of silver. Though she’d not yet learned how to object bend without her fiery embers and flames, it didn’t deter her from molding the silver in the shape she intended.

With the spark of white flames, what she envisioned began to take form. Until those flames slowly burned out, and the object laid steaming on the wood.

Yet, a small piece of her fire and dancing sparks remained within it. The essence captured. Without the help of Eldacar’s book, the object would be merely a decoration, nothing more.

Only, this piece was meant for something greater, something muchmore. Her white flame danced within a small crystal—inside its new case. It would burn until her own light would be snuffed out and she called all her powers home to her.

They were both silent for a moment.

Awestruck. Speechless.

“It’s absolutely splendid, Alora. Perfection.” Eldacar’s gentle voice cracked in an excited whisper. “An exquisite gift. One to be truly treasured.”

Pure amazement flashed in Alora’s eyes as she beheld it there on the table. Months ago, she would’ve never thought something such as this would be possible. And with a grin, she turned to Eldacar. It was satisfying. Seeing her power and what it let her do—what she asked it to do. Trusting each other to create such a magnificent item that beheld even greater power. A symbol of great importance and strength. A symbol of the High Prince’s legion.

Placing the item in her bag, “You know what this needs?”

Eldacar shifted his glasses and shook his head.

“Wrapping. All gifts need wrapping.”

He hadthat look in his eyes. The one that replaced the silver gleam and traded it for muddy-gray dullness. The one that she’d seen occasionally that he’d try to hide. More often escaping when they were alone. In the annulus. In the inn. Heard the tone of his voice when he would speak—or try not to.

Arms crossed and face tight, Garrik leaned against a tree, hidden in the shadows of a vast forest behind him that concealed an obstacle course Thalon was participating in. Alongside him, soldiers climbed tall towers, leaping onto platforms from various heights, attempting rope ladders and bridges, and performing incredible maneuvers to knock fellow opponents off.

From high above, the sunlight was disturbed by flying silhouettes. She spotted Deimon flying beside Isleen, avoiding incoming faeries with wings, swerving and weaving; an incredible smile spread across his face as he held a ball in his arms. Sports. A flying tackle ball game.

Wings collided with wings, limbs tangled as he was hit. The ball bounced between arms until finally swooped inside a ring of fire controlled by one of the Mystics in the Wingborne. Though she didn’t know the rules of the game, from the shouts of victory, one team gained a point.

Alora couldn’t help but smile.

But Garrik vaguely stared into the sky, his eyes clouded. The shouts and clanging of metal far above didn’t seem to break his attention. He was far off in a distant world.

Alora looked across the field at him as she walked.Why don’t you join them?Remembering his shadow wings.

Silence.

Hey?A burst of cobalt magic wasn’t even enough to stir his focus to her.You okay?

Thalon’s demanding voice scolded some soldiers who lost their footing … and foolishly, almost their heads atop a raised platform. The wooden boards beveled when he jumped and landed, tearing a sword from one of their hands before tossing it to the ground far below. “Go get your blade. The climb should get your head back on straight.”

With a swift kick from their swords-master and immediate obedience, the soldier jumped to a lower platform before climbing the long rope down to his weapon.

Garrik shifted his feet, and a muscle flexed in his cheek when his eyes rapidly blinked. Then, she finally felt that gentle caress in her mind.Apologies. Did you need something?

Alora half-smiled walking beside Eldacar, whose eyes were watching the flying tackle game before he veered off in the direction of the bursting magic.No, I’m fine. Are you okay?Frowning,her attention stirred to Thalon, not daring to mention the way they both emerged from Garrik’s tent with obvious signs of a fist fight.

He hesitated.No. But I will be. Did you enjoy your time with Eldacar?

By that time, she’d closed the distance, passing an incredible pit of doom—Jade’s newly hewn coliseum—and stopped under one seemingly sky-high tower. “Very much so.” Alora patted the leather bag by her side. “Come with me. I want to show you something.” And offered her hand.

Garrik uncrossed his arms and half-grinned, taking it before she pulled him out to the coliseum edge.

Alora crouched down, swinging her legs over the side to sit, scanning the ruins below when Garrik did, too.

Jade was defending the attack of a group of five females. They had her circled, back against a crippled pillar. Sparks illuminated the darkness as harsh and brutal clangs of metal resounded up the dirt-hewn walls.