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A flush creeps over his face. “No,” he says at last. “But she has been kind and generous. I will regret disappointing her once she learns of my deceit.”

Close to the beach, Jin sets down the oars, letting the current bear us to shore. We climb from the boat, cold water swirling around our ankles. Shenming and Jin drag the boat higher onto the sand, pulling it beneath a thick undergrowth of bushes.

“It’s a full moon tonight,” Dian remarks, pointing above.

In the dark sky, the luminous orb emerges from a bank of clouds, casting our surroundings in silver and white. Haunting and ethereal, like walking through shadows.

“This way.” I point where the jagged silhouette of hills looms. Though the discomfort has subsided here, the magic churns impatiently within—as though eager to be freed.

I walk onward, picking my way through the unkempt grass and rocks. Ahead, a wilderness of trees towers like giants, seeming to close tighter and block our path.

A sudden rustling shatters the quiet, fear shooting down my spine. Snakes. Dozens of them, gliding forth at breathless speed. Eyes of yellow and green, red scales mottled with black. Their jaws stretch wide as they swing our way, their fangs glistening. Are they guarding the waterfall? Or are they the island’s natural inhabitants that we’ve disturbed?

As a snake springs at me, I grasp my sword, swinging it wide—glad to have this weapon as part of my disguise. Light envelops us from Jin’s shield. I shout a warning as a snake leaps at him, but his blade arcs to slice the creature in half. As the remnants of the snake fall to the ground, a drawn-out sigh reverberates through the air.

Blood splatters along Jin’s arm, his skin blistering, turning an angry red. “The snakes are venomous,” he cautions us. “Don’t spill their blood or let them bite you.”

Dian tosses him a bottle of ointment that he rubs over his wound, the blisters subsiding. More snakes are gliding through the clearing, circling us. Dian’s fingers gleam, vines sweeping from the trees to lash the creatures. Yet their fangs slice through the vines like ribbons, their venom disintegrating the stems.

Dian’s power surges again, along with Shenming’s, tearing branches from the trees now—raining them on the snakes—yet they snap the moment they brush the creatures’ scales. Each time the snakes lunge against our barrier, Jin tenses with strain.

“We can’t defend against these creatures; they regenerate.” He gestures at the snakes whose wounds are healing. “Only those dead remain so.”

“Strike quickly, without mercy.” Shenming holds his sword at the ready as light gleams from his other hand. Magic streams into the roots of the trees, tearing crevices in the ground. As a few snakes fall into the deep cracks—the earth rumbles, seemingly in fury.

“This island is fighting us,” Dian says slowly. “It resists our attacks, protecting these creatures.”

The snakes slither closer, their glassy eyes revealing no fear. The crevices Shenming tore in the ground are closing, the trapped snakes pushed to safety by an unseen force. Grass grows over the few dead creatures, weaving together like a shroud. Another wrathful groan reverberates, like the island is mourning the dead.

“Avoid killing more,” Jin instructs.

“How do we stop them from killing us?” Shenming swings the flat of his blade at one to slam it down, yet it springs forth again.

“Fire.” The magic is already gathering, flames surging from my palms—a wretched satisfaction filling me.

“The branches. Set them alight.” Dian’s power surges into the trees. As pieces of wood scatter around us, flames stream from me to set them alight, forming a fiery barrier around us.

We grasp the sturdiest branches, swinging them wide as we press onward—the snakes recoiling at the flames. Jin’s shield shudders as it shifts, arching over us, concealing the fire and smoke to avoid being seen from afar.

The flames around us sweep higher. Heat flashes, curving through the air. A wind stirs, spreading the fiery branches wider, striking the snakes. Their hissing grows louder, frantic. More of my power erupts, hotter now, a wildness surging through my veins as Jin strains to conceal the monstrosity of my creation.

The snakes rear back—then glide swiftly away. The grass quivers, the last of them disappearing as abruptly as they appeared. Still, the fires don’t abate, devouring the grass, creeping over the trees. I fist my hands, knowing I should stop—yet relishing this exhilarating freedom, a rash triumph flooding me at wielding this unfettered power.

Dian reaches for me but halts. With the dragon, she must be careful. “Enough, Yining,” she urges me. “The snakes are gone.”

I barely hear her through the ringing in my ears, the power coursing through my veins—heady, intoxicating. Consuming.

“Stop,” Jin says forcefully. “You’re endangering yourself. Your sister. The dragon.”

Yet the monster awakened within doesn’t care about anyone.

“Extinguish the flames so Jin can release his shield.” Dian’s voice cracks with despair. “Listen to me, Sister.”

The last word—it penetrates my daze, yanking me from the heedless thrill. I make myself look up at Jin, his face pale and drawn. My hands fist as I wrestle with the magic like it’s alive. At last, it yields, wrenched back under control. A gasp slips from me as the flames waver, faltering, then die out… leaving me utterly spent, with the lingering bitterness of regret.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

THEY ARE LOOKING AT ME, UNCERTAIN AND NERVOUS—MY sister, Jin, Shenming. Afraid… as they should be. What if one day, I don’t stop? I am becoming the monster I’d feared. A shudder runs through me. I’m still repressing the echoes of this magic, the urge to unleash it again—as the time draws closer to when I must relinquish it. I smother the whispers in my mind, the selfish impulse to hold on. This magic isn’t mine. I won’t let it harm those I care for.