For a heartbeat, time fractured. His mind plunged back in time, unbidden. He was back in a sun-dappled conservatory, glass panes dripping with condensation as exotic plants reached toward the light. Isla stood in white lace, a crown of flowers in her hair, her voice steady as she pledged her life to his. He could still feel the way her fingers had tightened on his, strong despite their delicacy, as if she was the one anchoring him to the world. He had kissed his bride then, surrounded by the scent of roses and earth, believing with unshakable certainty that no force could part them. That certainty roared back in him now—he would not let death, nor time, nor fate steal her away early this time.
His own powers couldn’t undo the work of another Aqua Summoner, but he could help Juliette force a way through. She was still hunched over the ice, fire pouring from her palms in a furious effort to save her friend from the frozen barrier. The flames gnawed a ragged circle like an auger boring down into a frozen fishing lake.
Andrew threw compact ice, one after the other, onto the middle of the circle, hoping the impacts would crack the ice. Isla had floated off, no longer directly beneath them. At one point, he got too close to the heat as he tried to locate her body, and the searing heat of Juliette’s flame scorched his arm.
Edmund stood over them, his face grim, his hands outstretched. A violent gust of wind funneled down to meet the central point of the circle, adding to Andrew’s efforts. It also fed the blaze, turning it into a roaring furnace. The ice around them cracked and groaned beneath the assault. Still, the barrier held, mocking them with its thickness. Andrew threw harder, teeth clenched, sweat mingling with the steam rising around them. He could just see Isla’s pale face off to the side through the distortion of the ice.
“Hold on, Isla,” he whispered, as the three of them fought against the ice. The struggle had lasted only moments, yet fear crushed his chest as if hours had passed. Too long—he had waited too long to tell her, to explain the truth of what she meant to him. Now he might never have the chance in this lifetime. And the thought of waiting until the next to hold her again was unbearable.
With a thunderous crack, the ice gave way, and all three plunged into the pool. Andrew surged forward, letting the water guide him, the cold cooling his burnt arm, cutting through the freezing water until his hands closed around Isla. He hauled her upward, breaking the surface with her head cradled against him, her skin cold, her body limp and blue in his grasp.
Andrew guided the water, and he and Isla whooshed through the pool as the water gently lifted and then lowered them both onto the poolside. Edmund climbed out. Juliette darted for the changing rooms at Edmund’s sharp command of “Towels—now! We need to get her warm the moment she breathes again!”
Yes, she needed to breathe.
Edmund dropped to his knees, already placing the heel of his hand against Isla’s sternum. “Andrew, with me. I’ll work her chest—get ready to breathe for her when I tell you. We’ve got to keep her heart and lungs moving.”
Andrew swallowed hard, nodding, his hands trembling as he brushed wet strands of hair from Isla’s face.
“Steady, man!” Edmund barked, pumping down hard and rhythmically. “She needs you calm. On my count—you breathe, then I press. One ... two ... three!”
Andrew bent without hesitation, sealing his mouth over Isla’s, forcing his breath into her cold lungs. He pulled back, desperate eyes flicking to Edmund.
“Again,” Edmund ordered, his voice sharp, commanding the rhythm of life itself.
Andrew drew back from the second breath, watching for even the faintest stir of life. Edmund’s hands pressed down again, steady, relentless, each movement a drumbeat against the silence.
“Come on, Isla,” Andrew pleaded, his voice breaking. He bent again, sealing his mouth over hers, willing her to breathe, to stay.
For one terrible second there was nothing. Then—her body jerked beneath his hands. A harsh cough tore from her throat, followed by a splutter as water spilled from her lips. She gasped, ragged and desperate, dragging air into starved lungs.
“She’s back,” Edmund croaked, relief cracking through his sharp manner. He pulled his hands away, already shifting to helproll her onto her side, his strong hands steadying her as she trembled. “Easy, Isla.”
Andrew moved closer to her, his hands hovering over her chest. With how long she had been under, he feared secondary drowning. Her heart was now pumping and she may be back with them now, but he wanted to make sure it stayed that way.
Edmund went to lift her— “Hang on a moment,” Andrew said.
He closed his eyes, concentrating. Slowly, he sensed the last traces of water trapped in her lungs. His power flowed like a cold current, coaxing the liquid out in gentle pulses, letting it stream harmlessly up and out of her mouth without putting too much force on her fragile body. Isla coughed during the process, weakly, shivering. Andrew laid his hand on her arm, steadying her—he wanted her to feel safe. He murmured her name, guiding the water to exit her lungs until the harsh rasping subsided.
Only when Andrew felt her lungs clear of excess water, her breathing steady and more confident, did Isla try to sit up. Andrew assisted, cradling her carefully against him, his chest heaving as though he’d run miles. “Easy, Isla. You’re all right. Breathe for me, love, just breathe.”
Her lashes fluttered, eyes unfocused, but her fingers curled weakly into his sleeve as though she knew exactly who held her.
Juliette came running back, arms piled high with towels, her face pale with panic. She dropped to her knees beside them, wrapping one thick towel around Isla’s trembling shoulders and pressing another to her dripping hair.
“Oh, thank heavens,” she breathed as she saw Isla was conscious, tears streaming unchecked as she tucked the fabric close.
Andrew barely loosened his hold, his arms still locked around Isla as though letting go meant losing her again. She shivered violently against him, her skin like ice, her breathing shallow but real. He pressed his cheek to her damp hair, eyes squeezed shut in relief. He’d lost his glasses somewhere in the pool. His vision was a little blurry.
“All right,” Edmund cut in, brisk and steady. “She needs a doctor, and quickly.” He crouched down, sliding his arms beneath Isla with the surety of a man accustomed to command. “I’ll carry her; with your burnt arm you won’t manage.”
It was gracious of Edmund to say that his burnt arm was the reason Andrew wouldn’t be able to carry Isla and not his physique. Still, Andrew hesitated, his grip tightening before sense broke through. He couldn’t carry her all the way to the university’s medical wing, and carrying her on a slab of ice would only add to her problems. Reluctantly, he eased Isla into Edmund’s hold, his hand lingering at her arm until the very last moment.
Edmund rose smoothly, lifting her as though she weighed nothing, her wet hair spilling over his arm. “Juliette, throw another towel over her and get yourself dry as well. Andrew, do the same. You also need a Terra to look at that burn. When you’re finished, come and meet us.”
Andrew shook his head, jaw tight, refusing to leave her side for even a second.
Edmund’s sharp eyes cut to him, leaving no room for argument. “Move now. The quicker you warm up and get healed, the quicker you can see her. You’re no use to her half frozen and blistered.”
