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My control is stronger. I no longer feel a frantic uncertainty even as the hunger grows for more, the fire surging wider and hotter. Jin’s shield wavers—but he holds it in place, sweat streaking down his face. All the while my fire leaps higher, devouring the vines, leaving ash in its wake. A bitter char throttles my lungs, the others are coughing but don’t falter—fighting back, until all that remains of those accursed vines are their blackened stems, their thorns burned away.

I’m struggling to stem the fire, to halt the flow of magic. Now, before the soldiers notice. Dian edges closer, her lips forming words that I cannot hear through the ringing between my ears. Jin swings to me, sheltering me from sight as he seizes my hand, his power spilling forth to help me tether it. Slowly, it drains away, leaving me cold. Spent. Empty. The soldiers don’t seem to have noticed, most occupied with their own injuries and helping their comrades. Prince Zixin is pale, though he’s seen this before at the palace—my heart sinking as I find Shenming staring at me, his expression mirroring shock and fear. And I’m suddenly glad we are far from the Elders.

“Where did the fire come from?” a soldier asks.

“My herbs,” Dian says quickly. “A concoction I’ve been experimenting with.”

Shenming doesn’t correct her, calling out instructions to the soldiers. “Help the wounded. Prepare the camp.”

Once they move away, Dian observes, “This power has grown, yet you control it more easily.”

“Jin has been helping me,” I admit. “With him, I’m learning to harness it.”

“At what price?”

I look into her face. “Don’t worry about me, Sister. I know what I’m doing, and he won’t harm me.”

Her gaze flicks behind me—Shenming is approaching us, his expression guarded. “The flames weren’t Dian’s herbs. What is this magic you wield?” he asks quietly to avoid the others hearing. “Our people do not possess the power of fire.” He seizes my hand, inspecting the root of my ring, his eyes going wide. Though dyed, glints of gold emerge, only visible beneath closer scrutiny. “This bears the mark of the Sun Dragon. What have you done?”

Jin grasps his arm. “Release her, Captain Shenming,” he says, in a voice filled with menace.

Shenming’s expression is stern as his grip over me loosens. “I am duty bound to inform the Elders.”

Dian moves between us. “Don’t you dare, Shenming.”

“Don’t tell them yet,” I say to him. “The Sun Dragon gave me this magic to help us escape the Iron Mountains. I will relinquish it at the waterfall, it will aid his recovery too. The dragon will be safe.”

“There will be no reason, then, to inform the Elders of anything,” Dian adds with emphasis.

Shenming’s mouth thins, not offering any assurance. “For now, I must see to the wounded and call for aid.” He plucks the stopper from a porcelain bottle, a purplish smoke tinged with a medicinal scent spiraling into the skies, in the direction of Mist Island. “Reinforcements will come. We should rest for the night.”

As he leaves, Jin starts after him, his eyes dangerously narrowed. Dian blocks his path. “Don’t hurt him, Lord Jin-Yong. I will persuade him to keep silent.”

“What if you can’t?” Jin asks harshly.

“Then I’ll let you persuade him,” Dian replies. “My sister’s safety comes first.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

SOLDIERS UNPACK SUPPLIES, THE WOUNDED TAKEN TO REST. Dian and I lead our mounts to the river to quench their thirst. Dinner is a watery porridge, garnished with salted fish. I barely taste it, exhausted. The moment my eyes close, I fall into a dreamless slumber—only stirring once it’s dawn.

I quickly head to the river to clean my face and teeth. When I return, a soldier offers me a piece of sesame flatbread baked over the remnants of last night’s fire. Captain Hong and Jin are deep in discussion. He has changed into a black robe, the sleeves tapering into wrist bands laced with leather. As Shiji joins them, sitting beside Jin, her unbound hair falls across his arm. While I don’t think he likes her that way, my chest twists at the sight. Turning my back on them, I walk toward Dian at the other side of the camp.

My sister is inspecting some plants, the dragon slung to her back. As I approach, she glances up at me. “Shenming won’t mention anything about you and the Sun Dragon’s magic in his report to the Elders.”

“How did you convince him?”

“I reminded him the magic is under your control, and that you’re traveling to the waterfall to surrender it. We can’t afford any delay, should the Elders summon you home.” She pauses, then continues, “Shenming isn’t blind to his duty; I trust in his judgment. Above all, he wants to protect our people and the dragons.”

Dian plucks a cluster of wildflowers, placing them into a wooden crate. “These flowers are also found in the Amber Forest; Ruilin would like them. I’ll leave them with the returning soldiers to bring to her.”

I’m glad Shenming doesn’t see the wistful look in my sister’s eyes. “What about Father? Any gift for him?”

She points at a handful of fleshy roots by the side. “I found some licorice root. It helps improve moods and detoxify the body,” she says with a grin.

“You’re lucky you’ll be far away when he sees them.” I squeeze her hand briefly. “Thank you for coming with me.”

“You are my sister. This is my home. How could I not come?”