Page 75 of All the Wandering Light

“Are you all right?” I said. I placed a hand on either side of his face, searching his eyes.

He brushed me away. “Fine. But I don’t—” His gaze fell on River.

“There,” River said with a dismissive gesture. “I’ve found your shaman, Kamzin. I only hope he was more successful at hiding his identity from the guards than he was from the Fifth—”

That was all he got out before suddenly, he was flying through the air.

Flying backward, hitting one of the windows so hard it cracked, and falling to the ground. The dragons snorted with alarm and sailed through the half-open inner door.

“Tem, stop,” I shouted, lunging forward and grabbing his arm. He was holding the kinnika, his hand already going for the witch bell.

“Is that it?” River was behind us suddenly, brushing shards of glass from his sleeves. His eyes shifted from Tem to the witch bell. “I wouldn’t recommend that one, personally. You might only be a half blood, Tem, but you’ll still end up with a nasty headache. You’ve felt it, I’m sure. Did you still refuse to accept the truth, afterward?”

At that, Tem’s face grew darker than I’d ever seen it. Tossing the kinnika aside, he lifted his hand, and the floor split apart.

I stumbled and fell as roots—roots—tore through the stone floor. Lusha staggered back and tripped over a chair. A window shattered, and I threw up my arms instinctively. The roots swarmed toward River, who made a sound that was somewhere between dismay and annoyance. He shook a few roots from his ankles, then turned with an exasperated curse and simply walked up the wall behind him, casting aside a basic law of nature like an overwarm cloak.

Tem faltered briefly before throwing his hand up again. A vicious wind cascaded through the broken window, sweeping me off my feet. I ducked as a table soared past my head—it struck the wall with an earsplitting crash. But River was already gone, changing into an owl and soaring through the air. He settled calmly on one of the dragon perches and gazed at Tem as if to say, Well?

“Tem,” I said, coughing. The air was choked with dust. “River isn’t—”

But Tem gave no sign of hearing me. He gave no sign of being aware of anything, apart from River. Slowly, he lifted his hand again.

The perch burst into flame.

Hungry fire spread down the stone wall as if it were made of paper. It was witch fire, dark and wrong, barely warm against my skin despite its ferocity. River made a sharp sound, not exasperated anymore, and vanished. A few feathers floated to the ground. As I watched in horror, the fire spread to a chair—and then the rug I was crouched on.

“Stop,” I shouted. I was on my feet again, sidestepping broken boards and lifeless roots. I snatched up the fallen kinnika and sounded the scorched bell as hard as I could.

Tem stumbled, his hands lifting to his ears. In that moment of hesitation, I grabbed him and pulled him to the ground. His head struck a root with a force that I felt through my hands, but I made no move to loosen my grip.

His eyes opened again and seemed, finally, to focus on me. “Kamzin—”

“Put it out.” The flames surged closer, and the air was thick with smoke. Lusha had taken up the kinnika and was muttering an incantation, which seemed to be having no effect. “Now, Tem.”

He raised himself onto his hands, blinking hard. He took in the flames as if dazed. “I—I don’t know how.”

“You don’t know how? Do what you just did, but the opposite!”

“It’s not that easy. I—” He stopped, and a wave of weariness passed over his face. His eyes drifted briefly shut before snapping open again.

Lusha screamed. A tongue of flame surged toward her. But suddenly, River was there, dragging her out of the way. He dropped her unceremoniously on the ground. He made a gesture, and the towering flames consuming the furniture went out like snuffed candles. Plumes of smoke leaped hissing into the air, and the wall hangings cracked and fell in a shower of sparks.

I collapsed onto my side, choking on the smoke that flooded the room. River grabbed Tem by the shoulders and shoved him onto a chair. A shadow uncurled like a snake, sliding up the back and wrapping itself around Tem’s arms and chest. Tem sagged forward, but the shadow caught him before he fell, and held him there.

“Here,” River murmured in my ear. He had found a flask and was pressing it into my hand. I drank too fast, spilling water down my chin, desperate to clear the smoke from my throat. I leaned into River, my hand reaching out instinctively to grip the edge of his tunic. The faint smell of wildflowers tickled my nose.

When finally I stopped coughing, River helped me to my feet. Lusha was throwing open the remaining windows, flooding the room with fresh, clean air.

“You can let him go,” I said.

“Can I?” River gave Tem a cool look.

Tem was quiet, fixing River with a gaze that still held an echo of his former fury. He glanced at me, then nodded once.

The shadow uncoiled, and Tem fell forward. I was at his side in an instant.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. His face was drained of color.