Tamri rose from a crouch, embarrassed that she’d dived for cover instead of trying to help the Fire Queen. She also could have used the Watermight in her body to shield herself, but she still wasn’t used to having easy access to it. She flicked bits of broken glass from her damp coat.
“Are you hurt?” Dara asked, sounding as calm as if they were still discussing ancient folktales.
“No. But the storms are getting worse,” Tamri said. “Ever since we left Thunderbird Island, they—”
The doors banged open, and a swarm of Archive Stewards charged into the hall, exclaiming in horror at the sight of the water-damaged documents. They rushed to rescue the books and loose papers, using their long vests and flowing trousers as towels. In the ensuing commotion, Tamri was pushed away from the Fire Queen.
A young steward called Quell glowered at her as if blaming her for the storm damage. Or maybe she was just noting Tamri’s Pendarkan appearance—olive skin and dark hair. Soolens typically had dark-brown skin, and both men and women often wore their black hair long. The southern coastal lands of Pendark and Soole had always competed over trade from the lands beyond the Bell Sea, and recent clashes in contested waters and raids along the coast had increased their animosity. Tamri was under the protection of the Vertigonians, Soole’s allies, but that didn’t mean the Soolens wanted her there. She took shelter behind a hanging platform. Maybe she could sneak out before anyone noticed.
Lightning flashed outside, and Tamri stiffened. She counted her heartbeats until the distant thunder rumbled. It was still far away. This storm would get worse before it got better.
At least it was ordinary lightning, not the magical substance—she hoped. Tamri and Dara had spent the last three weeks combing through all the available information about the Lightning substance with the help of the Archive Stewards, Princess Selivia, and the Wielder-scholars she’d met on Thunderbird Island. They needed to learn how the substance functioned in order to keep it from spreading. Tamri’s experiences had proved useful, but no one would know more about it than the man who’d been ensnared in its intoxicating glow. The man Tamri had pulled from its jaws. She was curious about what he’d say.
“Let’s get to the workroom before Latch changes his mind,” Dara said, joining Tamri by the platform when the mess from the broken window had been cleared up. Someone had secured a heavy shutter over the broken window in place of Dara’s temporary shield, and the Fire sphere floated beside her once more. “Thunderstorms have to make him nervous.”
That makes two of us.
They left the Archive hall and hurried down a columned portico bordering a large flooded courtyard. Wind howled across the sloping roof and sent rainwater cascading over the stone walkway. The courtyard must be a nice place for the Stewards to read in good weather, but Tamri hadn’t seen any of that since arriving in Sharoth. The storms assaulting the coastal city reminded her too much of those desperate moments inside the cavern. She’d hurled the Lightning away, acting on instinct, on pure terror, and forced its white-hot beams to strike the stone wall instead of her flesh. When she could no longer resist, it had crackled through her body, sparking along her skin, making her hair frizz.
Ever since that day, Tamri had found herself wishing for another taste of the Lightning’s fizzing intensity. Its blazing, shrieking power. Most of all, she wanted to know if she could still control it.
“Tamri.” Dara stopped at the door to the workroom and rounded on her. Tamri jumped—then tried to pretend she hadn’t.
“Yes?”
“Our alliance with Queen Rochelle and Crown Prince Chadrech is delicate.” Dara lowered her voice as Quell and a group of Stewards swept past her, still fretting over the damaged papers, and entered the workroom ahead of them. “They’ll be watching for signs we might break our promise to seal the Lightning back in the chasm. Latch was unconscious when we agreed, so we need to be careful.”
“You think he’ll still want to use it?”
“Possibly,” Dara said. “Or he may want to continue investigating the substance. We can’t encourage him.”
Wind gusted over the portico, misting their faces, and thunder rumbled in the distance.
“Don’t you want to try the Lightning before we lock it away?” Tamri asked. “Just to see what it’s like?”
Dara looked at her seriously, making Tamri feel as if her brain was being peeled open and examined, all her intentions and fears and wishes laid bare.
“The more I learn, the more certain I am that it’s far too dangerous to touch, even for a moment,” Dara said. “Don’t you think so?”
“Right. Of course.” Tamri tucked her thick hair behind her ears. “I was just curious.” In truth, Tamri had imagined bringing Lightning back to Pendark to Wield against King Khrillin. He would have to let Gramma Teall go then.
“Just be careful what you say in there,” Dara said. “The Soolen royals will stop you from leaving tomorrow if they believe you’re heading to Thunderbird Island to disturb the chasm. I’d hate for you to be delayed when—”
“Wait. Tomorrow?” Tamri interrupted. “You’re still letting me go?”
Dara blinked in surprise. “Of course. I promised to help you find your grandmother. I put her in danger by forcing you to break the oath bond like that.”
“I . . .” Tamri swallowed, not sure what to say. The Fire Queen had put her grandmother in danger, but it was thanks to her that she was free to try rescuing her too. Despite Tamri’s past betrayals, Dara treated her as a true apprentice. She was strict and demanding but also fair. She didn’t hold what Tamri had done while under Khrillin’s oath against her. Still, part of her hadn’t quite believed she’d be allowed to go. “You don’t need me now that Lord Latch is awake?”
“I think we can manage for a few weeks,” Dara said. “Let’s learn what we can from him now then send you on your way before Heath decides the dragons need another week of bedrest.”
“Right. Let’s do it.”
Dara put her hand on the door, which was carved with scrolls and desert roses. “You’d better give me your Watermight. Prince Chadrech dislikes Pendarkans enough without you going armed to meetings.”
Tamri withdrew the Watermight reluctantly, feeling weaker as the silvery-white substance passed from her hand to Dara’s. The Fire Queen formed the Watermight into another sphere, keeping it separate from the Fire. The substances looked similar only in shape. The Watermight was light and ethereal, its icy glow somehow both sharp and insubstantial. The Fire blazed hot and insistent, molten gold that could cling and burn. Tamri still wasn’t used to the latter, despite the Fire Queen’s teaching.
But the Lightning? That she might still master. Only one other person in living memory had used it with as much success as Tamri had, and he was waiting on the other side of that door.
“Let’s see what Lord Latch has to say.”
2
Tamri followed the Fire Queen into the workroom, which was far more crowded than usual. Scholars occupied every chair around the long table, and Wielder-soldiers in slate-gray uniforms gathered along the walls, hiding the elegant tapestries depicting scenes from Soole’s history. The Archive Stewards were still worked up over the storm damage in the main hall, and the murmur of voices competed with the drumbeat of the rain.