Bellanca turned back to Eryx, her joy immense but still incomplete. “You might think my friend living will make me go easier on you. You’re wrong.”
Eryx glared at her. “If I still had a knife, I’d have planted it in your hide while your back was to me.”
“If you’d still had a knife, I wouldn’t have turned.”
“How?” he growled. “How are you doing this?” He tried slicing his sword through her fire again, burning himself when the metal turned red hot in his hand.
“It’s useless,” she told him. There was no cutting this cage. She kept the magic flowing infinitely, and she had power to spare. “I could let you slowly bake for days.”
The ground suddenly shook ominously somewhere in the heart of the square. Worried, she looked over her shoulder. The tremor kept going, growing, and people started to scream and run. Some fell, and some pushed and shoved their way through the lurching crowd. On the left-hand side of the square, a crack snaked up a huge column and dug into the marble roof of Hera’s temple. Chunks of stone tumbled down and hit the stairs. People scrambled out of the way, pushing into the crowd. Just as the tremor shook Bellanca’s feet, the quake faded, but scared new Magoi had no control over their power. Their magic jumped forth in visceral reaction, magnifying the chaos and danger in the square.
Her stomach dropped as fire roared and rose and burned. Water spit into the air, but it was rarer than fire magic and didn’t do anything to counter the panicked flames. A sudden wind howled, and another quake shook the ground. It wasn’t as long as the first one, but it was more violent and cracked the marble underfoot and rattled the temples all around. The big, twin statues of Apollo and Artemis marking the base of the castle road fell over and shattered, spewing marble chunks toward the crowd. Atlantians screamed and ran, tripping and crawling over one another and injuring themselves on the now jagged ground.
Bellanca watched in horror as pandemonium swelled along with out-of-control magic. She couldn’t let go of Eryx to help. If she took her focus off her fire, she’d lose the cage.
“Carver!” She whipped her head toward the altar but foundhim already running toward the edge of the crowd. He leaped onto one of the short pillars that usually marked the perimeter around Eryx’s sacrifices and raised his sword.
“Stop! Calm yourselves!” The shiny metal glinted in the sun, drawing attention, as did Carver’s deep, commanding voice. “Youcontrol your magic. It doesn’t control you. Pull it back inside. Gather it deep into you and keep it there.” He half turned and pointed his sword at her. “Look at the control your future queen has. She caged a murderer in fire. She hasn’t burned a single other soul.Thisis what you can have. Magic. Control. And a queen who fights for you!” He turned back to the crowd, pointing his blade at them now. “Now calm yourselves and spread out.”
Bellanca held her breath. Would it work? She carefully watched the square, and what had just been a jostling mobdidslowly calm. A lot of people still forced their way out of the area, but the bursting, burning magic dimmed and no earthquakes rattled the ground. The tension inside her eased. It wasn’t perfect, but it was better.
Carver nodded his approval to the crowd. “Fire mages, go to Zeus’s temple. Get away from other people and from anything that’ll burn.” He glanced at Silas, who still stood near the front of the crowd. “Silas—you’re in charge of them. Lead them there. It’ll be cool and calm.”
Silas raised his sword high and then pointed the tip toward the biggest building on the square. “Fire wielders, to the temple!” he boomed. Several people started moving, some still sparking and flaming. The crowd parted for them, eager to get them out.
“Pav!” Carver shouted, searching for the unit leader and the men who’d come with him. They signaled from the steps of Athena’s temple, and Carver pointed to Pav with his sword.“Earthshakers!” he yelled out over the crowd. “Go with Pavlos to the castle gardens. Get away from all these buildings. Now!”
Pav lifted his sword to signal to Atlantians to follow. “If an ancestor ever had earth magic, or you think you do now—with me!” He bounded down the steps and moved toward the base of the castle road, followed by the men who’d come with him. He kept his blade high, a signal to follow. Only a few people moved, but they raced away, and the crowd hurried them along.
Bellanca’s worry lessened as the magical population in the square thinned. But there were still hundreds of people crowding the area, and underlying the constant din, she heard the injured pleading for help.
She called over to Dex. “Use the amulet to help the wounded. But pace yourself,” she warned. “Little by little. And anything non-life-threatening can wait.”
Hearing her, Carver waved Dex over and showed him to the crowd. “If any family member ever had healing magic, go to Apollo’s temple and find Dexios.” Turning to Dex, he said, “Show them what to do and start healing anyone who’s been hurt or burned.”
“Help the injured to Apollo’s temple!” Bellanca shouted. “All healers—MagoiandHoi Polloi—go there to see how you can help.” Apollo was the god of healing. Maybe he’d look favorably upon their efforts, and she’d be damned before she thought Magoi healers were the only ones with skills.
Carver turned, and their eyes met. A second later, he leaped off the pillar and plunged into the crowd. He’d help calm Magoi and bring the wounded to the temple. She’d finish off Eryx. It was their unspoken deal.
She turned back to Eryx, violent anticipation thundering through her blood. He strained against her magic, the burns she’d already given him blistering and red and as ugly as hischoices in life. Despite the new Magoi in the crowd dispersing, a huge audience still watched them, paying attention to her every word and move.
She had witnesses. She had Eryx right where she wanted him. Too bad she couldn’t kill him twice.
Or maybe she could. She could incinerate the obol he must have somewhere on his body and doom him to the wrong side of the River Styx.
Just as the vengeful thought bloomed in the darkest part of her heart, a huge rumble rolled toward them over the ocean. Frowning, she lifted her gaze and saw the great barrier crash down. Her eyes widened as water rushed into the trough surrounding Atlantis, frothing, roiling, and violent. Panic hit her like a thunderclap, and she took an involuntary step back. The ocean would close over them. It would submerge the island. No one could survive that.
The temple square vibrated again, and she gasped, spreading her legs for balance. But the movement was different this time, gentler, more controlled. The ground didn’t split. Itrose.
Her heart raced as the island climbed along with the water. In awe, Bellanca let her cage waver, but Eryx was too fixated on the ocean behind him to notice. She pulled her focus back in and shored up the magic just as the terrifying influx arrived. Water crashed against the outer port, and huge plumes of spray flew over the lower walls and drenched the land protecting the mouth of the harbor. Big, powerful waves pushed through the narrow port entrance, rocking boats and making bells jangle, ropes snap against masts, and wood groan in protest. Water finally slammed into the wall below them, the booms echoing and the waves crashing violently back out. The island moaned a last, heavy sigh and then settled, the turquoise sea still churning around them.
Trembling from shock and excitement, Bellanca couldn’t stop staring at the unbroken horizon. Residual fear still hammered inside her, but the ocean spread out before them, uninhibited by any barrier, and a landmass rose from the water in the far, far distance.
Her heart thumped wildly. Could it be Thalyria?
“Atlantis has risen!” Carver shouted behind her.
The crowd echoed his cry, screaming their fierce and frenzied happiness over and over. The earsplitting rejoicing raised goose bumps on her arms. Her heart thundered. She didn’t turn, but she listened, and satisfaction flooded her just like the ocean had flooded the huge basin around the island. This was everything Atlantians had wanted and needed for generations. Their island—no longer sunken, no longer punished.
