soldiers, reaching higher than the buildings around them, fed by nothing but Aurora’s fear.
A house on the edge of the village caught fire. More people screamed, and the flames swelled again. They were too hot, too strong. Stop, she thought, but the flames swelled, as though driven by her panic.
She dove into the forest. As she ran, she dodged brambles and tree roots, racing for the stream. She leapt over the mud by the bank, the water splashing as she landed, and ran. Steam rose around her.
A tree with low-hanging branches stood ahead. Aurora scrambled up, the bark digging into her palms. She climbed and climbed, until the branches shuddered under her weight.
In the distance, smoke rose into the air.
The whole village was burning.
The baker had helped her, tried to protect her, and she had burned her shop to the ground.
She should keep running. Follow the flow of the stream as far as she could, before the guards caught her. But she could not move. She stared at the flames, so fierce now that they reached above the trees. She could not look away.
It had come from her. She had not decided to use magic. She had not wanted to set things alight. But the panic had taken over, and now . . .
She had done this. She did not know what else she was capable of, if she did not get her magic under control.
She stared, and she stared, as the fire burned itself out, and the sun rose and fell in the sky.
She had to go back. She had to. Even with the guards, she had caused this. The fire was hers. She had to help.
But it was dark before her legs agreed to climb down from the tree. She followed the stream back, each step cautious, certain the guards would snatch her at any moment.
She saw no one.
The stench of smoke and burned wood got stronger the farther she walked. And then the end of the forest was in sight. The world beyond was black, hidden by the lingering smoke that formed a blanket across the night sky.
She crept to the edge of the trees. There were no soldiers waiting. There was no one.
The village was nothing but ashes.
TWO
SMOKE STUNG AURORA’S EYES AS SHE STARED AT THE village’s remains. A few buildings clung to life, with half-collapsed walls and charred beams, but otherwise, everything was destroyed. Everything was gone.
She couldn’t have done this. She couldn’t have. Her magic had always been so small before, a candle, a flash of flame. She had shattered the fountain in the square before she ran, but she couldn’t burn down an entire village without a thought.
She hoped the baker had escaped. She hoped . . . she hoped many things.
Aurora stepped to the edge of the tree line. She could see no one, but surely some would have stayed behind, to salvage what they could, to mourn what they had lost. She took another step. A branch snapped under her foot.
“What was that?” a man said, from somewhere in the ruins. A survivor, or a guard? If he was a survivor, she had to help him. He could be trapped. But if it was a guard . . .
A hand clamped over her mouth. Aurora gasped, the sound swallowed by her captor’s palm. She jabbed backward with her elbow, twisting, reaching for the fire. . . .
“Shh, Aurora.” Her captor—a woman—murmured in her ear. “It’s me. It’s Nettle.”
The singer from the Dancing Unicorn. She should have been miles away in Petrichor, not lurking in the forest, not grabbing Aurora in the dark.
“Do not move,” she said, so quietly that Aurora barely felt the breath against her ear. “There are two guards on the other side of the village.” She loosened her grip on Aurora and reached for something on the ground. Aurora could not see what she did next, but she felt Nettle’s arm snap out, the air shifting as something flew past her cheek. There was a small thud, and a groan of straining wood, as one of the charred buildings shook.
Two guards came into view, torches held high. The flames illuminated the wreckage—charred fragments were falling from the wooden beam that Nettle had struck.
The beam creaked. One of the guards glanced at it and let out an exasperated huff of air, but the other continued to look around. “I know I heard something,” he said.