Page 58 of A Vow of Wrath and Ruin

“Are you not a son of the Stormlands?” Roderick yelled over the flames.

“I’m the lightning kind, not the rain kind. Ora, what is your gift?”

“I, uh, I’m not very good at it.” She wrung her hands together nervously. “That’s why I’m a scholar.”

The flames moved closer.

“Well, now would be a good time to try,” Caiden said, taking a step backward clutching the remaining books. Fear sank like a rock in his stomach.

Ora took a deep breath, and the flames died a bit.

“You’re a wind wailer?” Caiden asked.

Ora nodded sheepishly. “But I’ve never produced a gale.”

Caiden wracked his brain, trying to remember what he knew of the Court of Wailing Winds. Some had gales, some were wailers, and others were extinguishers. “Try breathing in deep like you’re sucking in smoke from a cigarette.”

“I’ve never smoked a cigarette,” she protested. Sweat glistened on her brow.

The two climbed on top of the cage. Sylph were vengeful in their retribution. They would destroy the books before they fell into the wrong hands.

“Well, you’ll have to try, or else we’ll die.”

She sucked in a deep breath, and the fire slowly began to diminish, but not enough.

“Can you blow it out?”

Her eyes said she would try. She slowly let the air out, but it did little to quell the flames. “I’m sorry, I’m not good at this.”

“It’s okay,” Caiden said, trying not to sound panicked. “Try again. Really focus on letting the air out. Let it build in your chest. That’s what I do with my lightning. I let it build in my fingertips and then release it.” The flames licked at the soles of their shoes. “No pressure.”

Closing her eyes, she sucked in another breath, magic swirled in the air. Her chest buffed, and then she let go of what Caiden could only describe as a gale-force wind, extinguishing the flames enough for them to jump through with the remainder of the books.

Roderick met them on the other side. “Give them to me. I can run faster with them.”

“Why do we need to run?” Caiden asked, not daring to turn around.

Roderick pointed to the ceiling where a swarm of angry bees loomed overhead.

“Well, I assume they’re about to dive on us.”

As soon as the words left his lips, the bees shot toward them like an arrow being released.

“Run!” Caiden yelled. They headed for the door, but their hopes of escape were quickly dashed.

“It’s locked!” Ora shouted, glancing back at the fasting approaching bees.

Caiden twisted the lightning between his fingers into the best net he could make in seconds, creating a shield. Thousands of insects buzzed as they hit the net and fell to their deaths.

“Hold these,” Roderick said, handing the books to Ora, who could barely carry them. With a kick, he knocked one of the doors off its hinges. “Go!” he yelled at Ora, who handed off the books and ran up the stairs.

“I can’t hold them much longer. Go, Roderick. I’ll follow behind.”

Roderick nodded and followed Ora up the stairs.

Caiden waited as long as he could before dropping the net and following his friends. The remaining bees swarmed around him, stinging every piece of flesh they could, even through his thick wool sweater. Poison seeped into his blood at such a rate even Illya’s gift could not protect him. He fell to his knees, grabbing at each step as the onslaught of stings continued. His throat swelled, and each breath became a struggle. His fingernails scraped against the stone, but he couldn’t stop, not when they were so close. He shut his eyes just for a moment, just to collect himself. His throat thickened and his breathing strained—the world went dark, and then a bright light shone upon him.

He blinked repeatedly, trying to focus on what he thought must be the veil, but instead, a man wearing white robes with a thick head of white hair stared back at him.

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