Page 83 of Claws of Death

“Oh, you definitely had it,” I inform her. “Worse than the last three times.”

That earns me a chuckle from Clio.

The three of us have been spending the past two days working on Kaira’sspark of fire, as she once called it. After her stealing a Flame’s fireball at the estate, Clio has been pushing her to test her powers.

She hasn’t lit a single piece of straw, nor a candle or twig. What shehasdone, however, is burn my palm. Three fucking times.

It all started with Clio’s suggestion to reheat her tea, which she was floating in front of her after it cooled down over a training session. When Kaira managed to bring it up a few degrees, I had the stupid idea to pull on the flicker of water magic still remaining within me from Vala’s gift and have her heat a drop of it so I can make a boiling projectile out of it.

She managed. Gods, she managed so fast I can’t catch up and get the water to rise from my skin before it scalds my palm.

“Next time, try water that I’m not controlling,” I tell her with a grumble that sounds too much like a grudge I’m not actually holding. I’m happy she’s making progress; I just don’t appreciate the pain. With a smile, I add, “I can always pick it up later.”

Clio has been watching the whole thing, offering her ice magic to stop the burn on my skin and observing with amusement and interest.

With a sigh, Kaira dips her finger into the water glass next to her and lets one drop settle on the wood of the windowsill. For long moments, she stares at it, but it doesn’t turn into steam the way it does in my hand.

Clio sits up, copper braid sliding over her shoulder as she tilts her head. “Try again.”

Small lines of concentration form on Kaira’s forehead before she gives up.

“That’s interesting.” The female stands from the couch, circles the table, and joins Kaira by the windowsill. When she touches the water drop, nothing happens.

“It’s not even lukewarm.” I don’t mean it as an insult, but Kaira’s shoulders drop with disappointment anyway. “Try again when Ayna is controlling the water.”

With a grimace, I summon another drop, this time letting it hover in the air to escape another scalding.

Within a breath, steam replaces the drop.

“How is that possible?” Both Kaira and I ask at the same time.

Clio shakes her head. “I have no idea. I’ve never seen an ability like this.” She studies Kaira for a long time then turns to me. “Every fairy is different and has unique talents. Tori can read minds and melt stone; I wield ice. Recienne has the strongest affinity for name control I’ve ever seen and then some.” She notices us both looking at her with distress. “Oh, don’t worry. Even if he likes to use the threat of name control against people he wants to intimidate, name control doesn’t work on Crows or Flames. It’s the creatures with little to no magic that need to be afraid of it, and you both have plentyof power.” I remember the first day at the Fairy Palace, how Recienne had pointed out he knew all of our names like that was a threat, and I shudder. “Besides, in case you haven’t realized, my brother wouldn’t harm a fly if he didn’t need to.” She rolls on, dismissing objections lingering on our tongues. “It could be something about your blood connection that allows Kaira to siphon your power.”

Siphon.

It hits me like a rock in the head. “Make an ice crystal, Clio.”

Clio snaps her fingers, conjuring a snowflake out of thin air, and lets it hover above her palm. “Sure. Why?”

“Now melt it, Kaira.” I nod my encouragement at my sister, and she hesitantly reaches out her palm the way she always does when attempting to use her power.

The snowflake implodes into a wisp of steam.

“Siphon.” I beam at her. “You can use your fire, but not to create flames. Your power siphons magic that is already in use and transforms it into heat. It has nothing to do with us being siblings.”

Kaira’s jaw drops. Before Clio can start asking questions, I summon my Crow magic and let a thin ray of silver rise from my palm. “Siphon it,” I order.

Kaira’s mouth presses into a thin line the way it always does when she is holding back words, but she raises her hand, and the silver light dances above my fingers, fluttering and swirling with heat like an illusion in the desert.

“Fucking brilliant,” is all Clio has to say.

The door to Herinor’s bedroom creaks open, and the male stands on the threshold, studying thespectacle above my palm with surprise and pride. “Couldn’t agree more.”

The news of Kaira’s secret power makes the rounds in our group faster than the feared wildfire the Flames are able to spread. For the first time since I met Kaira, she practically glows with confidence, even when she hasn’t explored her skills enough to understand the boundaries or limits. We’d be helping her with it, each and every last one of the Crows, and even Tori or Recienne, but the time to leave for the rebels’ hideout has come, and Clio, Tori, and Recienne are awaiting us in the throne room.

When we leave our chambers, dressed for battle and armed to the teeth, Myron walks close by my side, his hand brushing against mine every other step and his gaze focused on what lies ahead.

Buttery afternoon light filters in through the open balcony doors, the scent of fall in the air despite the green treetops in the gardens. The floor of black and white marble contrasts the glimmering pillars and the plain, carved stone throne stands out like a sore thumb in this space of pomp and glory.

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