But with zero barriers between us, with my soul wide open to all of them, I didn't siphon a cup of water; I broke the dam.
"NO!" The scream ripped from my throat, but it was harmonized, a chord struck by five voices.
I thrust my hand out, palm flat, aiming not at Athena, but at the space between her and Elias.
Dragon fire didn't just shoot from my hand; iterupted.
It wasn't a stream of flame. That would have been too simple. What came from me was a solid wall of black and gold flames, hot enough to vaporize iron instantly. It slammed into Athena with the force of a freight train, catching her mid-lunge.
She didn't get burned.
She got blasted.
The goddess was lifted off the ground and thrown backward, crashing into a row of empty thrones with a sound like a collapsing cathedral.
But the fire didn't stop.
It poured out of me, a torrential, unchecked river of combustion. It hit the obsidian floor and the stone didn't melt; it ignited. The fire climbed the curtains of woven starlight. It raced up the pristine marble columns. It licked at the ceiling, consuming the painted constellations.
"Aria, stop!" Kaelen’s voice came from outside and inside my head simultaneously.
I couldn't. The valve was stuck open. I was channeling the Dragon Prince’s millennium of hoarded rage, and it feltgood. It felt like breathing after holding my breath for a lifetime.
"The roof!" Thane bellowed, shielding his face as chunks of burning plaster began to rain down.
Hera shrieked. It wasn't a regal sound. It was the shriek of a homeowner watching her house being destroyed. She threw up a hand, summoning a shield of white light to deflect a falling beam that was entirely engulfed in black flames.
"You little pyromaniac!" Hera screamed, her eyes wide with genuine shock. "Stop this! You'll bring the whole palace down into the Void!"
The heat was instantaneous and suffocating. The air turned to steam. The sweet scent of ambrosia curdled into the stench of scorching sugar and burning velvet.
"Grab her!" Flynn yelled, diving through the smoke.
I felt his hands on me, not through my own skin, but through his sense of touch, the fever-heat radiating off my body. He tackled me, knocking me sideways.
The physical impact jarred my concentration. The stream of fire sputtered and died, leaving me gasping, my throat feeling as if I’d swallowed charcoal.
The High Seat was an inferno. The flames were eating the very magic of the structure, defying physics, spreading faster than thought. Thick, oily smoke billowed down from the ceiling, obscuring the furious form of the Queen.
"Well," Flynn coughed, dragging me to my feet, his eyes streaming tears from the smoke. "That's one way to change the drapes."
"I didn't... I couldn't..." passed through my lips, looking at my hands. They were trembling, soot-stained and glowing with faint, dying embers.
"We have to go," Kaelen roared, appearing out of the gray haze. He grabbed my other arm. "Now! Before she realizes the fire won't kill her!"
On the far wall of the throne room was a massive expanse of stained glass depicting the First War. It was the only thing remaining intact after Hera’s outburst, but now it shattered as the heat warped the frame. The pressure difference between the burning room and the void-storm outside sucked the glass fragments out into the night.
"The window!" Elias shouted, pointing to the jagged hole where the glass had been. "Jump!"
"Are we just jumping off things now?" I wheezed, letting them drag me. "Is that our only strategy?" I also wanted to know why it had to be the window furthest from us, but then I realized we were still penned between Athena and Hera.
"Strategy is for people who aren't on fire!" Flynn yelled back.
We sprinted for the opening. Behind us, a wave of force slammed into the floor, clearing the smoke in a ten-foot radius around the dais. Hera stood there, unscathed but apoplectic, her white eyes burning brighter than my flames.
"Seize them!" she commanded the empty air, or perhaps the shadows themselves.
We didn't wait to see who answered.
