“I know, I wore them once.” Vi glanced up at her father, then to Taavin. “It took a bunch of fire to get them off me.”
“Then I’d try fire,” Taavin suggested. “If Adela really is from the Dark Isle, her initial training may be closer to that of a Waterrunner than anyone on Meru—like your training with fire. But you may want to hurry.”
“Are you ready?” Vi looked to her father. Fire shouldn’t hurt a Firebearer… but her magic seemed so different from his that there was a twinge of worry she may actually harm him.
“Yes.”
Vi placed her hands on the shackles.
The ice was so cold it burned her skin. Even the initial flames Vi pushed forward were snuffed in a puff of steam. She narrowed her eyes, pushing through the barrier. More flames, more power.
“Taavin,starys,” Vi ground out through clenched teeth. Her magic was hardly making a dent on its own.
Without hesitation, he uttered, “Juth starys.”
A glyph appeared around her hands and her father’s. It swirled slowly in orbit above the shackles. Fire blazed inward from its outer rings in a breathtaking display of power. Vi was a wildfire compared to the measured elegance that was Taavin.
Fire around her. Fire within her. Fire within her father.
Call it forth, she silently pleaded. Sweat dotted her brow. Adela’s power would be stunning if it weren’t so stubborn.
All at once, the ice shattered, dissipating into steam before it could even hit the ground as water. Taavin’s glyph vanished, but Vi’s and Aldrik’s hands were still engulfed in flame. Her father shifted his grip, taking her hands in his. Flames danced up their forearms, illuminating the grimy jail cell in bright yellows.
They slowly stood, the fire remaining on her father even after their hands dropped.
“Are you ready?” Vi asked him.
“To get out of here? More than ever.”
She nodded at her father and turned, starting for the exit. Taavin fell into step beside her, his long strides almost putting him out in front. Aldrik took a step and stumbled. The sound of his body hitting the open bars of the jail cell rang in Vi’s ears.
“Father!” She hurried back over to him. “What is it?”
“He’s weak.” Taavin assessed the obvious.
“I can’t say they were the most mindful about how much, or what, they fed me,” he said grimly. Aldrik’s eyes, full of sorrowful dread, swung to her. “I’m sorry, daughter… after you came all this way…”
Don’t consign yourself to die!She wanted to scream at him. Not after all she’d gone through. Not when the pieces of her family were finally all within reach. He was like a firefly: brilliant, blazing, and fading all too soon.
“You will not apologize to me,” she said firmly. “You will move.” Vi looked back to Taavin, a plan quickly forming in her head. “Taavin, I need you.”
“Anything,” he said hastily. Perhaps a little too hastily, judging from the sideways look her father gave her.
“Put my Father’s arm around your shoulders. Support him. Get him to the boat.”
“Vi—” She wasn’t sure which one of them said her name first in that disapproving tone. But Vi wasn’t about to let either finish.
“One hand, managehalleth—heal anything you can on him before moving, then sustainmaphon the same hand to stint his pain so he can push through.” Vi knew pain was only a small factor. Exhaustion and malnutrition were the bigger ones. But she could only do so much. “With your other hand,durroe watt. Only focus on those two. Conceal yourselves and get out of the city. Don’t dosallvas.”
“Why notsallvas?” Taavin asked slowly, horror already creeping into his voice. He knew what she was planning. He knew it from his sad eyes to the slight tremor in his words.
“I’ll be making enough of a commotion that it won’t be needed.”
“You can’t do this.” He took a step toward her. Vi held out her hand, slowly walking past him with a straight arm barring him from coming too close, as though he was some wild animal.
“I can, and I will. Because you both need to get out of here alive and you and I both know you’re no fighter.”
“Vi, these pirates are deadly and well trained,” her father cautioned.
