Without thinking, Alara immediately bolted in the direction of Quenti’s energy. Had she actually found her? As she rushed through the trees, all she could picture was Emaru’s proud face and Ardo’s wide smile as she came back with the mischievous magite.

She kept the threads of her magia softly held at the back of her mind, letting them direct her where to go as she dodged around trees through the thickening forest. The rush of the nearby river gurgled just out of sight as she broke through the trees into a wide clearing.

And out in the open stood the object of her quarry.

Quenti whipped around as Alara emerged from the trees. Her face went white at the same time as a wide smile stretched across Alara’s face.

“You’re here!” Their voices rang out in unison.

Quenti took a step back, her eyes darting around. “Who are you with?” She asked sharply.

“We came to find you!” Alara said, ignoring Quenti’s question. “El’dyo, I was worried you had gotten yourself kidnapped by bruyas.”

Without warning, Quenti launched a jet of water toward Alara, ducking into the forest on the other side of the clearing. Alara dodged the haphazard attack and bolted after the rogue magite, automatically sending out the threads of magia to track her.

“Quenti, stop!” Alara tripped over the roots of a tree and felt a sharp throb in her knee, but jumped up and kept running. A minute later, she broke out of the forest, Quenti standing frozen ahead of her.

Here the river rushed loudly, drowning out the sounds of the forest behind them. Alara stepped toward the other girl and noticed she was standing on the edge of a cliff, the river rushing a few dozen feet down below.

“Go away.” Quenti’s voice was cold.

“Quenti, we came to help you.” Alara’s knee was throbbing from her fall and she was losing patience with Quenti’s foolishness. The girl was clearly trying to get kidnapped or eaten.

Quenti let out a bitter laugh. “Help, me?” In one smooth motion, Quenti pulled an arrow from the quiver across her back and nocked it into a bow, aiming it directly at Alara’s chest.

Alara hadn’t even noticed she’d had a bow and quiver on her until that moment. She took an instinctive step back. She had no idea whether or not Quenti was any good with the weapon, but with her being just a couple of yards from the arrow’s point, she didn’t have to be.

“We’re not here to hurt you,” Alara said, donning her best diplomatic tone. “Emaru’s back at the village; we can help with whatever trouble you’ve gotten yourself into.”

“Emaru’s here?” Quenti’s face somehow lost even more color.

“Of course. I told you. We were all worried.”

Quenti looked like a animal caught in a trap. Her breath was quick and her eyes wide. Alara feared that she would accidentally let the arrow loose at any moment. But, against her own survival instincts, she took a step forward.

“Quenti, we need you to come back.” Alara took another step, holding up her hand and gently pushing the nocked arrow to the side.

To Alara’s great relief, Quenti slowly let the arrow loose and dropped the bow to the ground.

“Good. Now let’s go.”

“You really shouldn’t be here,” Quenti said, her voice soft as she glanced over her own shoulder at the rushing water below. “I don’t want to have to hurt you. Just let me go.”

Alara sighed deeply, both in exhaustion and as a way to delay having to respond. She had no idea what was going through Quenti’s head, so no way of knowing how to calm her, and she wasn’t exactly trained in the art of diplomacy.

Just as Alara opened her mouth to speak—though she still had no idea what she was about to say—the snapping of twigs sent both their heads spinning toward the tree line.

Ardo stepped out first, his face red with the exertion of running. Two more councilguards followed, spears lifted and poised to strike.

Alara immediately felt a wave of relief and let her lips form into a smile. She met Ardo’s eyes and saw the ease she was feeling reflected in his own gray irises. He stepped forward and Alara immediately felt Quenti’s arm wrap around her waist. She felt a tug at her belt and the cold metal of the dagger she had found earlier pressed against her throat.

“Don’t come any closer!” Quenti’s voice was strong, but Alara could feel her hand trembling.

Alara’s stomach dropped and she froze.

Ardo’s drawn bow and his arrow was pointed at the pair of them, his eyes as wide as Alara’s as they looked at each other across the clearing.

“Let her go. Now!”

“Put your bow down and I’ll let her go.”

Alara could see Ardo’s arrow lower an inch, but the other two guards didn’t move, their spears still pulled back in the ready position.

“You will let the girl go.” One of the other councilguards barked.

Alara’s heart slammed in her chest and she could feel her pulse beating hard against the edge of the knife. In the deep recesses of her awareness, she felt the heat of magia building within her. A soft voice whispered inside of her to release the energy and strike out at Quenti, who still held the dagger close against her neck. But Alara looked between the two councilguards who had their spears leveled at Quenti, and could see the hate in their eyes. To them, Quenti was likely nothing more than a common bruya at this point. She wasn’t sure they had gotten the memo from Emaru that the girl needed to come in alive and well. Given the situation, releasing her wild magia wouldn’t help anything. She and Quenti might both end up with spears in their chests.

“Can we all just calm down?” Alara choked out.

“You have three seconds to drop your weapons!” Quenti yelled, ignoring Alara completely. “One—two—”

No one moved, although Ardo’s eyebrows were drawn tight together.

“Three.” Quenti stepped back, pulling Alara with her.

The councilguard on the left growled, “Ardo, shoot. Now!”

Alara’s eyes went wide as the councilguard took aim, but she saw the hesitation flicker across his face as he held the bowstring taut. In the same moment Alara’s eyes met his, Quenti had taken another step backward.

The world fell away.

One moment, Alara could feel the grass against her sandled feet, and the next there was nothing. The air rushed past her ears and she wasn’t sure if she saw or imagined Ardo dropping his bow and running toward her as the cliff rose up in front of them.

Alara let out an involuntary gasp and waited for the impact, her eyes closed tight. But there was nothing. Alara suddenly recognized that the world had stopped spinning even as the air continued to rush around her. She opened her eyes to find the river still a few feet below their floating forms. Quenti still had a tight hold on Alara, although the blade was now gone from her throat.

Looking up, Alara could see the edge of the cliff where they had just been, now a dozen or so yards above them. She could just make out the pale face that was Emaru, her hand thrown out over the cliff. The councilwoman was using her magia to keep them from falling any farther. A wave of relief hit Alara before she saw the strained look on Emaru’s face. She didn’t have the energy to pull them both back up.

“Quenti. Let Alara go. Please.”

There was silence and Alara wondered what calculations Quenti was making in her head. She felt the grip on her arm loosen, but in the same instant, Quenti’s arm around her waist tightened. Alara had just enough time to see the other girl’s arm stretched out toward the river before the icy wall of water hit them, propelling them forward.

The grip of Emaru’s magia slipped from them and though Alara might have heard a yell, it was quickly drowned out by the icy waves. Her eyes stung and she yelled, choking as water sprayed around her. Fighting against the arm around her waist, Alara tried to break away from Quenti, but was outside her element. In the water, Quenti was clearly at an advantage.

Alara twisted and managed to pull her elbow back, jamming it sharply into Quenti’s side. She heard a gargled gasp and felt the grip on her waist loosen.

In triumph, she pulled away, kicking her legs against the rogue magite.

And then for the second time, the world dropped out from under her. She felt Quenti’s hand clasp onto her wrist just as they hit the bottom of a waterfall with a crack.