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V ahly’s heart screamed as she lurched forward to try to grab the sword.

Enclosed in a five-foot wave and suddenly recovered, Astraea cackled as her coral spear flew into her hand. The water—holding the sword, the Sea Queen, and the coral spear—flowed backward, then dove over the cliffs. She was gone and with her, any chance of restoring the balance.

Arc was spinning air magic already, and he appeared to fly after her. Kyril lunged, then soared out of sight in pursuit behind the dragons.

No. That hadn’t just happened. It couldn’t have.

She’d been given the key to saving all the good kynd in the world, and she’d been outwitted and let it slip from her hands.

Without a fight. Without a word. Vahly had lost the oaken sword.

Astraea had the weapon now, and she was in the ocean, which meant she’d do her best to destroy the sword if the job could be done.

Reaching the edge, gasping as she skidded to a stop, Vahly watched as Arc struggled against the spray of water rising where Astraea must have plunged back into the sea.

The dragons didn’t breathe fire, Nix and Amona shouting into Vahly’s head about fearing to scorch the oaken sword.

Arc dropped to the rocks, his distant form shuddering beside the foamy claws of the ocean.

Kyril plunged into the water, going after Astraea, and the sight of his disappearing tail dropped Vahly to her knees.

Nix! Please!

Nix flew directly at Vahly, who jumped onto her back, narrowly avoiding the crystalline spines along the dragon’s neck and back.

Vahly pulled her dagger from her baldric and commanded the earth to follow Astraea and raise her up.

The scent of the sleeping ground under the sea tickled her nose.

A sandy mound with bits of blue coral and a floundering black fish appeared through the raucous surface, but Astraea was nowhere to be seen.

“Kyril!” Where was he? What was he thinking?

Nix swooped low where the sea kynd on both sides were beginning to fight again, raising swells of spelled salt water and shooting spears through the air. I don’t see him. What should I do, Vahl?

Vahly was going to be sick. Return to shore. We can’t get hit right now. I can’t think. I don’t know what to do.

They veered west to see Aitor grabbing Arc gently in his talons. Soon, Aitor was flying to the cliffs to meet Vahly and Nix.

But Kyril…

Clenching her stomach with a hand, Vahly leaned over Nix’s head, tears threatening to blind her.

Amona roared and blasted Astraea’s warriors with a massive band of fiercely orange dragonfire that peeled back the water in great plumes of steam. Shrieks and cries rose.

Kyril burst from the parted water and the steam, soaking wet and struggling to fly.

He was alive! Vahly’s magic pulled taut, and she willed strength to him, not at all sure if the power worked that way or not.

The gryphon shook his wings midair and trailed her as they returned to the coastline, soaring over the sight of Larisa breaking through her stone hand barrier and leaping over the cliffs to the water.

Vahly, Kyril, Arc, and the dragons tumbled to a rest at the Sacred Oak in either one moment or an eternity. It was impossible to know how much time had passed. Vahly rushed to Arc as the sound of wings and shouts filled the late day sky.

Eux, the Jades, the Lapis, and the elves riding atop three Call Breakers landed in the high grass, tucking wings and transforming quickly.

In human form, Eux threw open a bag and quickly donned a loose shirt and wide trousers before hurrying over and giving Vahly a quick bow.

Vahly barely glanced up. Arc’s eyes were opening, but he looked gray around the mouth, and his hand was oddly withered. “Tell me what is going on with you. Right now. No more being the tough one, elf. Spill it.”