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T he water stretched from where the sun rose over the toothlike remains of the Lapis mountain palace—a jagged line in the distance—to where the sun set over the drowned western mountains. In Vahly’s nightmares, Astraea flooded the land over and over again.

Eyes watering at the sparkling sea, she shook her head. No need to borrow horror. There was plenty enough to fill her thoughts. The Forest of Illumahrah was a long way off, and she had to stay focused on the goal.

Sweat from Kyril’s pelt dampened Vahly’s hands as she adjusted her grip on his ruff. The gryphon’s head lurched with every wingbeat, and his sides blew like bellows that might have a hole.

Arc leaned into Vahly. “Kyril will need a rest soon, hmm?”

“Exactly what I was thinking.”

Flying beside them in full dragon form, Amona soared straight, eyes narrowed.

Beyond her, Aitor and Nix flew in their human forms, their smaller wings working only when the wind currents didn’t oblige them.

They were all three flying smart, using the air in their own unique ways, but still, they hadn’t revived their fire magic since the lightning storm, and the quiet between Nix and Aitor meant they were tiring as much as Kyril.

Not a speck of land jutted from the waves.

Gritting her teeth, Vahly stretched her back and moved her neck to ease the stiffness that came with being in one position for so long.

Arc’s strong fingers massaged the tight muscles around her shoulder blades, and she sighed, pressing into him and relishing the feel of his powerful presence and his warm body against hers.

He tucked her braid over her shoulder. “I comprehend your motive to reserve your magical strength, but you underestimate yourself. You don’t need land above water to work. You are the earth’s master.” His fingers moved across her shoulder, his skin luminous in the sunlight.

“If it turns out I don’t have the power to raise enough land to a level sufficient to avoid the creatures lurking below, we’re all dead.”

Arc rubbed her arm and set his lips against her ear. Goosebumps rose along her neck. “Please, just attempt the task,” he said. “You can do this.” Arc leaned over, his sharp elven gaze on the gryphon’s feathered head. “What do you think, Kyril?”

Kyril squawked.

“That sounded like a Yes to me,” Nix called out.

Vahly grinned. Nix and Kyril had spent a good deal of time together when Vahly had been trapped with Astraea beneath the sea.

They’d searched Illumahrah and brought Rigel, Haldus, and Ursae safely from the wreckage of the elven kingdom.

Nix pretended not to care much about Kyril, but the warmth in her eyes that showed when she looked at him displayed the opposite.

Vahly touched Arc’s knee. “If you’re sure you want to risk it… Amona, what do you say? Should I try to raise land high enough for safety here in the wide-open sea?”

Giving her massive lapis-blue wings a quick flap before coasting again, Amona nodded. We have no other choice, Daughter . And I too believe in your power.

Vahly pushed her sleeves over her elbows then quickly grabbed hold of Kyril again. “Kyril, please circle this area.” It was as good as any.

He tipped and began to turn, the sun-touched waves sparkling like broken glass far below them.

The earth’s heartbeat echoed faintly, a match to the rhythm of Vahly’s pulse. “Amona, when I give you the signal, breathe fire, please.”

Amona circled in a wider path, encompassing Kyril’s route. Nix and Aitor hovered above.

Arc’s arms moved behind Vahly, and his air magic, both light and dark, spilled from his hands to ride the air alongside them, ready.

The earth’s heartbeat drummed inside Vahly’s chest, racing through her blood and warming the center of her forehead, palms, and stomach.

The earth waited, trembling under the seawater, wanting to rise to meet her, to obey her command.

The scent of it pushed through the ocean, impossibly strong.

She opened her mouth, then shut it again. Magic tugged at her chest.

“Now!” she shouted.

Arc forced his magic onto the water’s chaotic surface, and Amona blasted the same spot with dragonfire.

The scent of sage, sandalwood, and sun-warmed ground permeated the air.

Vahly flipped her palms upward as Kyril veered around.

The salt water spun away from the combined air and fire magic from Arc and Amona.

At last, a circle of land showed itself.

Muscles tightening in her neck and forearms, the magic coiling inside her, Vahly curled her fingers, then splayed them wide.

The ground erupted from the waves.

Kyril flew high above the rising mound that had once been part of the Jade territory boundary.

Amona circled the growing island of magically dry ground, flying expertly—sharp turns of the tips of her wings, quick flutters of just the front section, careful angling of the entire wing—studying Vahly’s work as if checking it for signs of the sea kynd.

When there was a flat stretch large enough for landing, Vahly squeezed her thighs, signaling to Kyril. They dropped down beside Amona, who reared up and blew dragonfire into the daylight, the heat warping the air around her slitted eyes. Nix and Aitor joined in.

Vahly and Arc slid off Kyril’s back as he roared. Vahly winced, ears ringing.

“Take it easy, gryphon.” She patted his side. “You’ll deafen us all.”

Amona raised her scaled eyebrows at Kyril, who now stood taller than Amona.

Nix and Aitor were laughing about the roar, doing their best to mimic the strength of Kyril’s lungs, and the scene reminded Vahly of nights at Nix’s ciderhouse back when their friends were alive and the worst they had to worry about was a tavern brawl. Vahly’s chest ached.

The surrounding water settled, lapping at the new land gently, but every wave looked like a shark’s fin or a sea kynd’s head clearing the surface.

“Maybe we should be a touch quieter,” Vahly suggested, although she was fairly certain the cacophony of the waves covered all noise.

Aitor laughed. “Allow us a little celebration. We are a fourth of the way there, by all estimations.”

Amona sat back on her haunches and stared in the direction of the ruined Lapis palace. She didn’t seem inclined to shift into human form for conversation, so Vahly let her be.

Vahly gave Aitor a smile. “I suppose we should enjoy the successes when they come.” She looped her arm in Arc’s and joined the group’s circle.

Nix pulled a pair of dice from her pocket. “Who’s up for a game?”

Vahly accepted the dice from Nix and rolled them on the rough ground. “I call sevens.”

It was her lucky number, and she was betting it all.