Suna wyri suna wira . . .
Outside, the howl of the wind sounded like a child’s scream. The winged cat cowered behind the counter, shielding himself with his bright green feathers. She heard a crash—a tree falling? The dock breaking? A roof cracking open? Concentrating, Kiela pronounced each syllable as precisely as she could. Around her, the others did the same.
Virrinaya tri virona
Muria rysana verisinasa . . .
She felt Bryn’s hand tighten in hers as they heard the rush of water on the streets outside. As Larran had said, this storm was worse than the last—they should get to higher ground. But not until the spell was complete.
Sey govana
Suna wyra veri myana!
They reached the end, raised their faces, and looked at one another.
“Again,” Kiela said.
Verisinasa tri biasa . . .
Kiela felt wetness on her toes. She looked down to see seawater seeping into the bakery through the open door. The level of water in the street had risen to the top of the steps. The town was flooding. Soon it would be inside every house. And she didn’t know when it would end. Perhaps not until all of Caltrey was swept away.
She spoke the words louder.
Beside her, she heard Eadie’s voice hitch as she stumbled over a syllable. The winged cat darted toward her and curled around Eadie’s front hooves. Strengthened by the encouragement, Eadie continued, her voice clear and strong.
They kept going.
A third time.
And then: silence. The wind’s screams died to a whisper. The water on the floor of the bakery receded, and Kiela glanced to the door to see that the flooding was flowing out of the town like it was being pumped back into the sea.
“Did . . . did we do it?” Ulina asked. Her voice was rough. All of them had been shouting. Kiela hadn’t even realized she was too. She swallowed. Her throat felt raw.
Slowly, they released one another’s hands.
Eadie sat down hard on her hindquarters. “I faltered. I failed.”
Kiela shook her head. “I think it worked.” She didn’t hear the storm screaming anymore. The wind was dying, and the walls were no longer shaking as if the world wanted to tear them apart. At her feet, the tabby with green wings purred. Picking up the cat, Kiela cuddled him as she took a deep breath and then exhaled. The air tasted like the salty sea.
Bryn rushed to the door and peered outside. “The sky’s clearing! It’s . . . well, there’s no rain and thunder.” Her voice shook a little.
Raising her head, Eadie asked, “What is it?”
“Come see,” Bryn said, stepping outside.
Carrying the cat, Kiela followed her, with Larran. Caz and Meep scooted outside at her feet. They all emerged into sunshine. Everything was dripping wet—from the roofs, down the walls. The stones glistened with water. And flowers were falling from the sky.
Blossoms of white, pink, blue, purple, and yellow drifted down in lieu of the rain and lightning. It looked like a celebration. With a delightedrrr-eow,the tabby cat leaped out of her arms, spread his green wings, and flew into the petal-filled sky, catching blossoms in midair. Laughing, Kiela stretched out her arms and spun as the flowers danced all around them.
“Everyone will know it’s magic the second they see this,” Radane said quietly. She hadn’t left the bakery. She hovered by the doorway, just out of sight.
“They’ll know it’s magic the second they realize they didn’t die.” Kiela caught blossoms on her open hands. She lifted them to her face and inhaled the soft perfume. It smelled like the heart of summer. “Come and see this!”
Shaking her head, Radane retreated into the bakery.
With a worried glance toward the dock, Bryn followed her inside.
Out on the wet cobblestones, Larran caught Kiela’s hands and swung her in a circle. A half-dozen cats swooped and danced above them. Consequences might come soon, but for now . . . flowers were falling like the miracle they were, and Caltrey was safe.
