“Andrew?” Isla’s voice came, soft, as if she were emerging from a fog.
He helped her to her feet just as a Terra with glowing green palms advanced. Andrew unleashed a cascade of water, drenching the man under a waterfall, the best he could manage while keeping Isla steady. Then he encased the two of them in a shimmering igloo of ice, creating a safe haven around her. He drew her close, their breaths mingling in the cold air.
“Isla, are you okay? Did they hurt you?”
“I’m fine,” she murmured, shivering. “I just need a moment. I remember thinking the Ventus was manipulating my thoughts ... It all felt like a good idea, to, you know—hand myself in to keep you all safe.” She shuddered. “The feeling was so overwhelmingly powerful.”
He brushed damp strands of hair from her face. “I’m so sorry. It was awful to watch. And it would never be a good idea to lose you.”
Isla stepped back slightly, her gaze sharpening. “What about Juliette? Is she all right? I heard her scream.”
“She was unconscious when I left. Jimmy was trying to revive her.”
“We have to help.”
Andrew nodded. He didn’t want to take her back out there, but they couldn’t hide—his ice shelter would not stop the Terra he had just drenched or the other Aetherians from the bank. He drew a deep breath, squeezing her hand.
“We can do this, Isla. Together.” He heard the crack of emotion in his voice. “But if anything happens, know that through every lifetime, my heart will find yours.”
She looked at him. “And my heart will always be waiting. It took me a while to figure out that we are good together, and it’s taken until this moment to truly believe that death cannot stop what we have. We’re Fated.” She nodded her head, indicating the outside world. “Shall we head out into the melee together? Just because I have accepted that we will find each other again in the next life doesn’t mean I’m not going to fight for our chance at happiness in this one.”
He leaned in and gave her a short fervent kiss. Pulling back, he looked at the incredible woman before him.
For a heartbeat, the world fell still, the tension hanging in the cold air. Then he let the ice around them melt, causing a muddy puddle on the rich English soil beneath his feet. He stepped forward with Isla at his side, ready to face whatever came next.
Chapter Forty-Nine
Bedlam ensued as Isla emerged from the igloo. Edmund and George were on land now, struggling. Outnumbered. They were losing. She felt afraid, but then she felt Andrew’s hand give hers a squeeze. He steadied her, and in return, she infused healing and energy into him. Being with him helped her feel stronger. For a moment they stood hand in hand—frozen, analyzing how to insert themselves into the fray.
Edmund had a cut across his cheek, and George’s leg looked as though it was causing him considerable pain.
The battle had roared like a symphony, each clash of power a drumbeat, each burst of fire or lightning a shrill note piercing the chaos. At first, the tempo had been wild and untamed, like the opening bars of a tempestuous overture, with every Aetherian striking in a frenzy of raw energy. Then, the tempo had softened, a hushed interlude where movements were measured, calculated—each strike and counterstrike a delicate bow across strings, every step timed as if in rehearsal. And now finally, the crescendo had hit: a blinding volley of wind, water, and fire, a surge so overwhelming it felt as though the entire orchestra had risen at once, each element contributing to the final, breathtaking climax.
Enough. She would not allow more pain to be inflicted. Love, friendship, selflessness—it was all worth fighting for.
Isla felt it—the unmistakable pull in her chest, the moment when her soul seemed to align perfectly with Andrew’s. Two frequencies locking into harmony, their power merging until it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began. She’d read about it—a resonance lock, when Fated Aetherians became more than themselves, their energies amplifying with every shared heartbeat. The Aether between them surged, alive and thrumming, their elements no longer separate threads but one unstoppable current.
She dug deep into her emotions; letting them flow through her, she lifted her glowing palm, causing the ground to shake.
A deep rumble rolled beneath the attacking men, like the approach of some ancient beast. Cracks split the earth in jagged veins, racing outward from where they stood. She focused, making sure the splitting earth avoided where her friends stood. With Andrew’s hand in hers she felt powerful, her mind clearer, her love overflowing. With a sound like thunder, the ground split open, their enemies falling into its depths.
They rolled and tumbled in the pit, immediately trying to recover and starting to climb free, but Andrew’s frost thundered into the fissure, slamming down in a glittering cascade. Ice roared, sealing them in a jagged glacier that pinned them all the way up to their necks, as if a fragment of some fallen comet had entombed them. The five of them looked around, blinking and stunned. Injured but alive.
The night stilled. The air reeked of earth and sharp frost. Isla stood trembling now, her hand still clasped in Andrew’s. Together, their power had crashed down like a world-ending strike.
Edmund glanced at them panting for breath, shaking his head with a wry grin. “Well, that was ... impressive. I’ve never seen a Terra manage to open the earth.”
Andrew straightened his glasses, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Not all of us were born to bench-press a punt, I’m afraid; we have to use other methods to demonstrate strength.”
Edmund gave a deep laugh that echoed across the quiet grounds. Isla smiled at the detective, joining in his relief that the skirmish was over. But then she sobered.
“Where’s Juliette?”
Edmund glanced back toward the boat, his smile fading into his usual stoic mask. “She came to when we left the river. Jimmy stayed behind.”
Isla hurried forward, dodging the large gaps in the ground she had created, her heart skipping—unsure if Jimmy could be trusted. But as she neared the water, relief washed over her. There, sitting clinging to the edge of the punt, was Juliette—with Jimmy gently blowing them ashore. She looked like a pirate guiding her boat to the docks, where waiting hands had caught the mooring rope, ready for the vessel to thud against the planks. Juliette was chatting animatedly with Jimmy as if they were discussing the latest library acquisitions rather than a life-or-death escape.
“Need a hand, librarian?” Isla called, half laughing.
