No, she told her aching body. I am a force unconquerable.

The gilded wall rippled, shifting—first invisible, then an array of countless shimmering gold specks, then invisible again. The wave spun, slid back into the ocean, then crashed forward again, smaller now.

“Gently,” she whispered over and over, her body trembling. “Down, down, down.” She doubted the words helped the water settle any faster, but if she didn’t speak, she would collapse. Hearing the hollow sound of her own voice reminded her of the world beyond this wall and this wave—the people below her whose lives depended on her strength.

Audric and Ludivine, watching from the hills.

Ilmaire and Ingrid, hopefully brought to their knees by the magnificence of her power.

Her eyelids drooped, her vision flickering. She was not a girl shivering with rain and anger—no, she was a conduit. The world passed through her body, and by doing so, it grew sharper, bolder. It listened to her will and obeyed. She breathed, and it breathed along with her. She shook, then held fast; so too did the wall of her creation. She moved her fingers, like stroking the spine of an upset hound, and watched the water diminish.

At last, when the wave had flattened and the sea calmed, debris strewn across the shores and the call of gulls returning tentatively to the air, Rielle lowered her aching arms. The movement made her cry out, her muscles stiff and her blood rushing painfully back down to her fingers. She longed to collapse against Atheria’s neck and let the godsbeast take her to some quiet mountaintop cave, as she had done that first day when she had saved Rielle from death, and wrap her in the nest of her wings.

But instead she whispered into Atheria’s sea-soaked mane, “Take me to Audric, my dear.”

Atheria obeyed, diving back down toward the city. Rielle watched through watering eyes as the drenched streets neared. Buildings of white stone tucked into the mountains; sharp, narrow towers piercing low clouds; rooftop gardens, elaborate and green in the diminishing mist; trees pelted flat by wind and rain. The sky was dark, and lanterns flickered tentatively to life throughout the city. Hours had passed, Rielle realized with a dim note of alarm. The edges of her body returned to her—her fingers wind-chapped and swollen, her mouth parched and sour.

They broke through a mist of cloud and approached a wide, flat stone plaza near what appeared to be the castle’s main gates. Hundreds of people had gathered, crammed into every spare inch of space. They followed Atheria’s progress, and as she descended, the crowd’s wild roar grew deafening.

But Rielle, shivering with cold, could only concentrate on one thing—Audric hurrying toward her, and Ludivine just behind him. A group of uniformed soldiers followed them, including Prince Ilmaire and Commander Ingrid.

Rielle tightened her raw, aching fingers in the tangles of Atheria’s mane. “If they try to hurt us again, we will show them no mercy.”

Atheria whickered doubtfully, and the moment her hooves touched stone, the crowd pressing close around them, Rielle dismounted and dropped unsteadily to the ground. Ingrid’s soldiers directed the crowd away from her, giving her and Atheria room, and as Prince Ilmaire approached, Rielle lifted her chin and prepared a cutting remark that she hoped would erase the smile from his face.

But she did not have the chance to so much as say his name.

Before she could, he knelt before her, bowing his head, and the others around him followed suit—the royal guard, the soldiers who had threatened them in the village hills, a group of people in elaborate robes whom Rielle assumed were Borsvall’s Grand Magisters.

Last to bow was Commander Ingrid, with a murderous glare—but bow she did, as the gathered crowd cheered in response. They flung their sodden scarves and hair ribbons upon the plaza’s stone. Along the rooftops surrounding the plaza, spilling out of windows and onto terraces, they stamped their feet and waved their arms, reaching for Rielle as if desperate to win even a glance from her.

Rielle turned to Audric and found him smiling down at her. Only at the sight of his face did she realize how exhausted she was, how close to collapsing. She had stopped a tidal wave in its tracks. She had tamed the sea.

She laughed a little, breathless, and when Audric and Ludivine moved to kneel like the others, she shook her head and took their hands in hers.

“Not you,” she said. “Never you.”

Then, with Audric and Ludivine at her side, her fingers laced through their own, Rielle lifted her arms to the sky and listened with satisfaction as the crowd’s cries of adulation shook the stone beneath her feet.

• • •

Rielle dreamed of waves as big as the world—endless waves, with voices that yawned and wailed.

She walked through them easily, a child splashing through puddles. They subsided at her touch. She dwarfed them. She towered over the world. She held it, curious, in her palm.

Then Ludivine’s voice—soft, regretful—coaxed her awake, back to the spacious apartment to which Ilmaire had escorted them hours before. They had bathed and rested, all of them sprawled together in the apartment’s largest bed, and now Ludivine was speaking, brushing Rielle’s damp hair back from her face.

We must go quickly, she said. We cannot linger here. I’ve had time to read the air while you slept, and now I understand.

Go? Rielle raised herself up, rubbing her eyes. Go where?

Ilmaire’s coming, and Ingrid, and an escort of guards.

Rielle tensed. “Audric,” she said, shaking him gently. “Wake up.”

There’s no need to fear them. You’ve won their loyalty. Ludivine paused. Well. Truthfully, Ingrid’s is still to be won. But she won’t make another move against us. Not for now. But, Rielle, the Gate… Ludivine’s fear crowded the edges of Rielle’s mind like a new, gathering storm. That wave, it was of the Gate. And more waves will come, more storms, as each day passes.

A slow-crawling chill pushed Rielle fully awake. What do you mean?

“Rielle?” Audric murmured, voice hoarse from sleep. “What is it?”

I will tell you more, said Ludivine, and Audric as well, once we’re alone. But for now—we need a ship. Their fastest ship.

Rielle touched Audric’s arm. “Lu says Ilmaire is coming, and Ingrid too. They’ll be here soon.” But Tal, Queen Genoveve, everyone at home, they’ll be worried, they’ll want us home at once.

They will have to wait, Ludivine said firmly. We must visit the Gate as soon as possible and assess the damage my kindred have done to it. Before it’s too late. Before anything more disastrous happens.

Rielle swallowed with difficulty. Before more angels escape?

We cannot delay was Ludivine’s quiet reply.

Then, a knock on the door. A guard announcing the arrival of Prince Ilmaire and Commander Ingrid.