Claire flexed her wrists to test the rope bonds, but the overseer knew his knots too well. He’d tied them so tight that the rope cut into her wrists and she gritted her teeth against the pain. As the burly overseer had stood over them mockingly, she’d considered setting the man’s clothing alight, but she’d hesitated the barest moment too long, afraid that if she was too slow or the man reacted quickly, he and his soldiers would kill Jemroth before she could overwhelm them. It hadn’t taken the soldiers long to truss the four magic users like chickens for the oven. Everyone that is, except Lotte, who was still unconscious on the floor of the wagon.

“What did you do to her?” the overseer had snapped. Turning to a soldier, he’d muttered, “She’s nothing but a slip of a servitor.” With a click of his fingers, he ordered the soldier to check Lotte’s pulse.

“Still breathing,” the man confirmed.

“Good. Pass me that water skin.”

Claire could have crowed with delight. They thought Lotte wasn’t with them. Now if only the exile would wake up. She hardly dared breathe or even make it too obvious she was watching as the overseer tipped half a skin of water over Lotte’s face.

Lotte’s eyes shot open. “Wha—” she spluttered.

The overseer crouched beside her. “It’s all right. You’re safe now.”

“Safe? But—” Lotte’s expression clouded over.

“Don’t try to talk. We know what happened. She,” the overseer glanced over his shoulder at Claire, “used magic. I assume you rumbled to her being more than she seemed and that’s the reason for the fireworks display.”

Through lowered lashes, Claire scouted out how much attention was on her. Not much. Say yes, she mouthed at her friend.

“I … yeah.”

“Can you get up to come with us?”

Lotte shook her head weakly, eyes wide.

“Mph,” he uttered as he stood again. “I’ll need to leave you then so I can tell Eidan the good news, but I’ll make sure you’re well rewarded for this morning’s work.” He swivelled around to Gareth, Jemroth and Claire. “And this lot won’t touch you, I promise. These three men,” the soldiers started forward at his words, “will sit crouched beside them with a knife. Any hint of funny business from one of them and they’ll find themselves with slit throats faster than they can croak the words of a fancy spell.”

Claire struggled against her bonds for the show of it and he laughed. She settled for a sneer as one of the soldiers took up position beside her, heavy hand at her neck and a gleam of steel too close to the skin for comfort. She swallowed nervously.

“Sit tight,” the overseer said, admiring his handiwork. “Won’t Eidan be pleased when I tell him I’ve found spies in our camp.” He spat at Claire’s feet and walked towards the front of the cart. “We’ll be back quick smart. You won’t get a chance to miss us.”

He turned, as out of the corner of her eye, Claire saw Lotte wink. Hope burgeoned. Lotte was many things, but she wasn’t stupid. Her friend must have faked exhaustion to fool the overseer into complacency and now, Claire could tell from Lotte’s fierce expression, he’d pay for his assumptions.

The overseer got as far as leaning down to jump out of the cart before he fell to his knees, clawing at his throat, the veins in his forehead bulging. To Claire’s delight, the man holding a knife to her neck immediately followed suit and two more resounding thuds let her know a similar thing had happened to the other guards. She breathed deeply. The air seemed a little thinner than usual, with a minty freshness which cut through the taste left by Claire’s own fire magic, but otherwise she felt fine. Somehow, Lotte had found a way to cut off their enemy’s air supply, and theirs alone. If Claire’s hands had been unbound, she’d have punched upwards in victory.

She glanced over at Lotte. The girl had stumbled to her feet, legs wobbly but face resolute. As Claire watched, she reached down to her boots, a thin bronze knife sliding out to sit firm in her rigid hand. Without a word, she shuffled over to Jemroth and the soldier who had fallen to his knees, cheeks red and sweat pouring off him as he struggled to breathe. Before anyone could say a word, the thin knife plunged and twisted at the man’s heart, killing him.

Claire was sure the horror in Jemroth and Gareth’s face was reflected in her own. She couldn’t just watch as Lotte’s sudden feral brutality consumed her. “Stop,” she cried. “These men have been lied to by Eidan. They don’t know any better and they’re defenceless. Knock them out and tie them up. We don’t need to kill them.”

“Witch,” the overseer gasped, a clenched fist shaking against the wood as Lotte stared blankly at Claire, eyes filled with a terrible darkness.

“Listen to me, not to him,” Claire tried again, desperation threading through her words. Lotte’s emptiness scared her. “This isn’t who you are. Don’t you want to finish what we’ve started in the right way?”

“The only thing I want no one can ever return to me,” Lotte said, her voice filled with bitterness. “Eidan, and those as thoughtlessly obey him, took ’em away forever.”

Claire knew she meant her family and felt a pang of sadness. Once this was over, poor Lotte deserved all the happiness life could bring, but for now Claire had to snap her out of her strange mood. “I know it’s hard, Lotte, but revenge won’t bring your family back. There’s rope in that corner. Bind Eidan’s men and free us, then let’s get out of here.”

Lotte blinked, her knife dripping blood onto the cart’s floorboards. Shadows crossed her face, but at last, she nodded, normal colour returning to her cheeks and her eyes clearer. Within minutes, she’d tied up all four guards, then hurried over to slice through Claire’s bonds. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I dunno what came over me. I were so mad.”

Claire massaged her wrists and then her ankles as she was freed. “I understand. Your family meant a lot to you just like mine does to me, but I’m glad you stopped the bloodshed.” She smiled up at Lotte, hoping to smooth things over. “We all owe you our thanks. We’d have been dead meat without your quick thinking.”

“I should have trusted you when Claire first asked me to,” Gareth’s small voice came from further in the cart. “I’ve never been more grateful to be proved wrong about someone.”

Lotte got to her feet with a start and quickly freed Gareth while Claire grabbed some bread from a supply bag and began to eat. She watched as the pair eyed each other like they’d never met before. Gareth offered a hand to the surprised girl and Lotte quickly grasped it in a firm grip.

“I’m sorry for being a nasty piece of work where you were concerned,” Gareth said. “I let prejudice blind me, and then when Claire found out Bron was the one to sell us out and that you were House Ushanan, I was too proud to admit I’d made a mistake.” He caught Lotte’s eyes with a solemn stare. “Now I see that you’re as good as anyone from Maellwyn House, exile or no exile.”

Lotte gave an abashed, “Thanks,” in response.

“Hey,” Jemroth grumbled from opposite them. “This is all very touching, but my limbs are so cramped I might end up with serious damage if you don’t free me soon.” He paused, clearing his throat, his tone becoming contrite. “I’m sorry too, Lotte. I persuaded Gareth he shouldn’t trust you, even when he wanted to waver. Forgive me?”

Lotte grinned, “Sure.” Soon, she’d freed Jemroth too and the pair and Gareth stared at Claire expectantly. “What now?”

Impatience burned within Claire, making it hard to concentrate. “Someone will raise the alarm about fire appearing out of nowhere and Eidan and his advisors will eventually figure out an overseer is missing and when they put two and two together …”

“We should run,” Jemroth said. “Grab some horses and get to Gwenivere.”

“No!” Claire said. “This plain is empty for miles and miles. Eidan would notice our horses and follow us. There’s no point doing anything until we close the Rift, because once we’ve succeeded in that, it doesn’t matter if we live or die. At least Kelnarium itself will be saved.” She flung bread and cheese at each of them. “Swallow that. Fast.”

When they’d done so, she reached out to rest one hand on Lotte’s own and the other on Gareth’s. “We must end it, here and now. By the Saura, by the Nereus, by the Gofannon and by the Crian.” She drank in each of their faces in turn as they all linked hands; Lotte grim but ready for anything, Gareth shaken but prepared, even Jemroth, his healthy scepticism overridden by loyalty.

“I’ll count us in,” she said, hoping she sounded braver than she felt. “No matter what happens, try to stay with the spell.” She paused, sorting through words to find the right ones to say. “And before we do this, I want you to know, you’re all amazing. I couldn’t have made it this far without every single one of you. Yes, we’ve all got on each other’s nerves and made mistakes, but we’ve picked ourselves up again and tried our best. Gareth, you were a huge help to me when I accidentally injured Sleath and Jemroth, your knowledge of Kelnariat was invaluable. As for Lotte …” Her throat closed over. She wanted to say so much. How Lotte had mended her brokenness over Liz, how she’d believed in Claire and followed her even when she hadn’t had to, how she’d thought quickly and got them out of rough situations every time. “Just thanks,” she said at last. “For everything.”

Lotte grinned. “No problem.”

Claire closed her eyes. “One, two, three, four …” She’d just managed to connect to learth and weave with Lotte when Gareth’s own cord sped towards them far too fast. Before she could yell at him to slow down, he collided with her.

-They’re here- He howled. –Go-

Claire managed to untangle Lotte and herself, head throbbing. Somehow, she made herself open her eyes and take in the cart. Nothing. What was Gareth playing at?

She whirled around, stumbling to her feet and dragging Lotte up alongside her. Gareth and Jemroth already raced ahead. Their urgency told her there was no time for questions. Something was wrong.

Claire followed them as they leapt outside the cart. Her mind raced as she clutched Lotte’s hand tightly. Which way to run? The land was barren in every direction. North, South, East and –

She came face to face with a soldier. Without a moment’s hesitation, Claire prepared to hurl fire at him, only for him to step aside as many hands clutched at her arms. With a smirk, one of Eidan’s councillors closed the gap between them. She recognised him right away, his cruel eyes and beaked nose distinctive. Wallis.

A whole troop of muscular soldiers surrounded him, brandishing brass headed spears and long blades.

He eyed her hungrily. “Eidan wishes to speak to you.”

Lotte punched and kicked wildly as soldiers lifted her off the ground.

“Use a spell,” Claire screamed.

She conjured up her own flames, letting them lick at men’s cloaks and tunics, but there were too many of them. She had to think smarter. Remembering Maen’s lessons, she ran through her options and couldn’t help but grin. She had just the thing. Salamanders, aid me, she thought as she put her plan in motion.

She knew she’d heated up the ground when Wallis howled, dancing about like his shoes were made of blades. As Lotte squeezed air from lungs and Claire heated land and blood, painstakingly slowly they pushed through the wall of human flesh separating them from freedom. Almost there, Claire thought. A couple of metres more and—

“Stop!” Someone cried from behind.

Claire spun around. A second man dressed in councillor garb had Gareth on his knees, melted ice pooling at their feet where Gareth had started to work a spell, his neck tipped back as the man held him by his hair. It was Wallis’s right-hand man, Heath.

“Surrender or I smash his necklace,” Heath called. Gareth’s shirt had come unlaced and his vial hung loose, bared for all to see.

Behind Gareth, Jemroth had managed to create fissures in the earth, preparing to crack the land asunder, but at Heath’s words he paused, letting his hands fall to his sides, then be bound in front of him.

Claire glanced back at Lotte in desperation. Her friend struggled as many hands clutched at her dress and at her own long hair. “Give it up, Lotte,” she said quietly. “It’s no use.”

She let her spell die out and made herself stand still while she was bound yet again.

“Gullible fool,” Heath crowed behind her. “Take that one to Eidan and kill the others.”

Her heart slammed. What had she done? Behind her, Gareth cried out. Seconds later, something smashed, Heath’s laughter ringing in her ears as she was swivelled around to face him.

Gareth sprawled, grimy and pale, the rope at his neck no longer attached to its vial. He patted his palms along the hard ground, ignoring glass shards sticking into his skin in his frantic race to recapture lost seawater. Without it, and this far away from the sea, he would die in hours, even if Heath didn’t kill him first.