The prickle of power becomes a pulse; the pulse becomes a surge. It flows within me, a flood of cold that washes through my body in a great tide, then crests on a wave of recognition.
I am no stranger to this sensation.
I have felt it many times before.
On the sandy shores, whipping at my skirts, spraying salt and brine across my skin as I peer out to sea. On the mountain’s summit, the icy chill crystallizing each breath in my lungs, freezing each inch of exposed skin. In the dead of night, whistling through the trees, carrying an electrical storm on its wings. In the pink-stained dawn, stirring the fragile new blooms of spring flowers.
Wind.
Air.
Sky.
It thrums inside my skin, a live current. I cannot control it—I do not try. But as it surges through me, instead of trying to push it down, to keep it in, to contain it as I always have before…I reverse course. I push outward. I let it loose from the hold I’ve maintained for twenty years. And as I do, I cast out a desperate plea to whatever gods are listening.
Let me breathe.
Wind erupts from me in a shock wave, a violent vortex blasting out from beneath my skin. The sky itself screams with the force of it, loud enough to shatter my eardrums.
Or is that me screaming?
I can do nothing but cling to the saddle pommel as waves of wind move through me. Ripping me from the inside out. I think my skin will tear, my soul with it. The cold in my chest is so strong, I nearly lose consciousness.
Something drips down my face. Blood, I realize, tasting it on my lips. It leaks from my nose like I’ve taken a fist to it, spilling onto my pretty white cloak like ruby tears. With the tang of copper on my tongue, I hold on to the pommel, riding out the currents as they reverberate outward in an unchecked tempest.
I focus on my breath. In and out, out and in. Again and again and again, until the shock waves subside. Until I can breathe again.
I can breathe again.
The air is clear of smoke.
My eyes crack open. The sight that greets me is a shock to the senses. The fire blazes not twenty paces away, a wall of flame and death that pins me up against the icy riverbank…but it is no longer advancing. Something holds it at bay. An invisible boundary, one made of impenetrable air, pushes back against its relentless pursuit. The flames lick at it hungrily, sparks crackle at its base, fumes furl with malice…but the inferno comes no closer. I have blocked its path.
But for how long?
The Remnant at my chest aches like an open wound. I would not be surprised to find it bleeding through the fabric of my dress. My head spins from the nosebleed as much as the dizzying sight of my…I don’t know what to call it, exactly.
Fence?
Barricade?
Shieldcomes closest, I suppose. A shield of solidified air.
I tell myself to move, but I’m too terrified to do it. Terrified that, should my focus slip for even a moment, the wall that holds my death at bay will fall. Even as I hesitate, I can feel my strength waning, my energy draining. I have no idea how to properly wield my power. It was blind luck, more than anything else, that saved me.
I pray that luck holds as I press my heels to Onyx’s flanks and urge him to walk on. His head swings back and forth, his bridle jangling. He does not like this situation any better than I do. But he is nothing if not loyal. At my urging, he trots a few steps away from the fire, his back rigid with tension beneath me. As though he, too, is waiting to see if the wall will fall away or follow us.
My stomach flips when I first see the flames lurch, devouring the patch of untouched earth that appears the instant my airshield shifts forward. Hands shaking on the reins, I pull Onyx to a stop once more, testing a theory. The fire’s advance halts as soon as we do.
It’s holding.
Relief crashes through me. It seems safe enough to keep moving. If I were a bit less cowardly—or a bit more reckless—I might ride straight through the wildfire, back to the camp, back to the Widow’s Notch, trusting my power to keep death at bay. But it is terrifying enough to see the flames pressing at me from one direction. The thought of them on all sides…pushing in from every angle…
I shudder and look away.
For now, I will get to safety. I will find shelter. And when the fire has burned itself out, I will make my way back into the smoldering ashes. I will find my friends.
Find Penn.