“The cyclone back there took it out of me,” he admitted. “I’m going to need a moment to recover.” He looked around at the small vessel. “And I really don’t like boats.”
“Ah, prone to motion sickness?”
At his nod, she replied, “Well, at least this thing will be slow and steady.”
Isla watched as Andrew boarded and balanced effortlessly at the rear. She couldn’t help noticing how perfectly he shifted his weight, lifting the quant and pushing against the riverbed with precise, fluid strokes that sent the punt skimming across the water like a blade. It seemed he too needed a break from using his Aetheric gifts. He was doing this the good, old-fashioned way.
For a few minutes, all was peaceful as they gathered their strength. Isla felt useless—the only one who hadn’t even lifted a leaf, while her friends showed the fatigue of having wielded their powers to protect her.
Her heart jolted when she spotted another punt gliding toward them, a shadow slicing through the pale moonlight. She was facing the rear, and Andrew hadn’t yet noticed their company.
“Andrew, we’re being followed.”
He looked back, then turned, his eyes locking onto hers, and she saw how tired he looked.
She couldn’t let him struggle alone this time to defend her.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Hold on!” Andrew shouted.
Isla barely managed to think how she could help as she grasped the side of the punt with white-knuckled hands when it suddenly surged forward, icy water splashing across her face. Juliette squealed. A punt was meant to be a slow, leisurely glide along the river—an afternoon of romantic calm, not chaos. They weren’t the Royal Navy, and this was certainly not a motor torpedo boat used to race across enemy waters.
The rival punt accelerated in answer to their challenge. An unnatural wave rose over the side of their own boat, towering as if they were suddenly in the middle of the Arctic Ocean instead of the calm waters of the River Ouse. It crashed down on them, icy spray stealing Isla’s breath.
She caught sight of Andrew dropping to his knees, palms still glowing, drawing the river water to propel their punt with astonishing speed.
“They have an Aqua Wielder!” Jimmy cried.
“Yes, I gathered that,” Edmund muttered, gripping the boat as it rocked precariously. He looked a little green right before he vomited over the side.
Andrew maneuvered them to avoid another wave.
Isla thrust her hands toward the riverbank, her palm green. A tangle of weeds and water plants leapt into the air, twisting toward their pursuers like a boomerang. The green mass wrapped around the man standing at the back of the rival punt,blindfolding him as the weeds wrapped securely around his head. The boat veered sharply, tipping the blinded Wielder into the water, and the waves subsided. Isla saw eight men left in the punt.
Another pursuer summoned his own weeds to nudge their punt back on course. Isla’s eyes widened as he launched a vine like a lasso, attempting to ensnare Andrew—but missed.
Andrew’s breath grew ragged. “I can’t keep this speed up!”
Whereas before their fight had been an explosion, a surge of energy—like a cavalry charging at full gallop across a battlefield—now it demanded endurance and precision. Each Aetherian had to focus on pacing themselves. Even the strongest among them could falter if they pushed too far, risking collapse or a temporary loss of their abilities. The battlefield had shifted from wild force to careful, calculated exchanges, a test of stamina as much as skill.
“Andrew, stop,” Juliette said. “One of us will swap with you.”
“I will,” George said. Their punt slowed, and George hobbled forward, trading places with Andrew and grabbing the quant so Andrew could catch his breath, but the exchange cost them precious time, and their pursuers closed the distance.
As they passed beneath a centuries-old bridge, Isla had an idea. Shadows deepened for a heartbeat, the night air thick with tension, before they emerged into the silver glow of moonlight. The vessel wobbled as she shifted, making Edmund groan. Placing a palm on Andrew’s leg and another on Edmund’s shoulder, she let her palms glow, channeling a steady flow of energy. A faint warmth pulsed through them, a careful infusion of her Terra power that, she imagined, worked like a surge of nutrients and oxygen to fatigued muscles while clearing mentalhaze—something science might describe as accelerating natural recovery—leaving both their bodies steadier and their minds sharper than a moment before.
Edmund nodded his thanks, looking less green as he thrust his palm forward, and a jagged bolt of lightning shot from his fingers, scorching the front of their pursuers’ punt. He launched another, striking a man’s arm; the shout of pain cut through the night. Edmund moved to summon a gust of wind, but a thick curl of smoke whipped toward his face. Coughing and choking as it focused its attack on his nose and mouth, he tipped to the side, unable to breath, nearly toppling overboard—Andrew and Jimmy’s quick hands caught him just in time.
Isla’s eyes widened as she watched Edmund slowly suffocate. She looked to her friend, but Juliette’s focus was on those chasing them. She looked angry—not a very Juliette look. Her pale blonde hair caught in the moonlight, a halo of warmth around her. But her palms began to glow an unnatural black, deeper than the shadows of the river at midnight. Smoke coiled from her hands, thick and writhing like living ink, and moved with an almost sentient purpose along the surface of the water, wrapping around their pursuers’ punt like a shadowy serpent.
When a rival tried to hurl a fireball, Jimmy lifted his palm and used a gust of wind to snuff it out just in time. Isla looked at him. “Just a Wielder,” he muttered with a shrug, his eyes still on the chasing punt.
Juliette’s fingers of smoke lashed out, strong and unyielding, gripping the rival punt with the force of a hundred hands. The boat shuddered, twisted, and with a loud splash, flipped over, sending its occupants falling into the dark, icy river. The black smoke lingered above the water like an unnatural fog, a silent warning.
Edmund choked out a ragged breath, coughing, and drew in a deep, steadying inhale. Juliette watched him with concern in her eyes.
Adrift and punt-less, the eight men struggled toward the shore.
