12

WES STOOD IN THE CENTER OF THE FIRE, holding back the heat from the flame. It danced around them, wild and furious, but when he held out his hands it flickered and stilled. You will not burn us. You will not devour her, he said to the flame. I know you. You have burned inside me. I am part of you now.

“Let’s do this,” he said to Nat, cocking his head toward the battlefield. “Together.”

Nat nodded and reached her arms out to the sky so that the white flames shot up in the air. Wes sculpted the drakonfire into mighty columns, and Nat sent them hurtling across the battlefield, forcing the soldiers away from the people who were still coming out of the city. She sent the soldiers running back to the portal, back to New Kandy and the gray world where they belonged. Her fire shot up through the clouds, incinerating a column of drones.

Walking in the protective circle of drakonfire, the two of them made their way across the battlefield to rescue the refugees of Apis. The citizens of the once-fair city were fighting back, turning guns into smoke, showering the soldiers with hail made of boulders, setting fire to their vehicles, their tanks, and their drones. Their general had been felled, but there was someone else leading them now.

It was Liannan, holding up a bow and arrow and letting the arrows take flight, Shakes astride behind her, brandishing a stolen automatic rifle. The rest of the crew followed, shooting back at those who aimed at the beautiful golden-haired sylph.

Liannan’s silver arrows cut through a line of soldiers. Her people fought well, using magic against bullets, weaving illusions, making the soldiers fire at places where no one stood, making them attack one another or their drones. They filled the sky with illusory smoke, with clouds shaped like a drakon, with swirls of brightly colored mist, confusing tanks and their automatic sighting systems.

But even magic had limits. They could distract the soldiers, fool them sometimes, but when it came to ground combat, they were badly outgunned and outnumbered. Soldiers hacked at the smallmen and showered the sylphs with gunfire.

Vallonis was losing.

Wes focused on holding and controlling Nat’s drakonfire. Like lava flows, the fire cut through the battalions, separating them from the sylphs and the city they were abandoning. He marveled at how well they worked together. It was as if they had one power, one strength, that they both wielded.

But it wasn’t enough. It would not be enough to forge victory from defeat.

The sylphs were easily mowed down by automatic weaponry. Their feared heartrenders could not stop the tanks from rolling over everything in their path. Whole families fell dead on the grassy plain, and more would join them if the assault continued much longer.

Wes caught Nat’s eye.

“I need to burn,” she said, her voice hollow. “Go. Shield them from the fire. Protect them from me.”

Wes did not argue. He knew what had to be done. She didn’t have to ask because he already knew. He was holding her back, he knew, limiting her power.

There was no other way out of this battle than to let her burn.