Cyrene and Dean made it above deck just as the first wave crashed on board. She almost lost her footing as water sloshed over her dress and under her silk slippers. Dean caught her at the last minute. He shoved her toward the railing.

“Hold on!” he cried over the sound of the storm.

Wind whipped her hair around her face and whistled in her ears. Her heart was still hammering after what had happened. Then, she looked all around her in horror.

The water that had been a little rough when they first went out on the water was now devastating. Thick black clouds hung overhead. Sheets of rain could be seen in the near distance, and it was traveling fast. The waves themselves were already ten feet high and growing. She dipped with the rocking of the boat, thankful for her sea legs.

“When did this start?” Dean called to one of the crew working on the deck.

He had huge frightened eyes. “Just now, Your Majesty. It came on so suddenly. We had mostly clear skies, and then, out of nowhere, the world erupted.”

Dean shook his head. “That’s impossible.”

“I saw it, too, Your Majesty,” another sailor confirmed.

Cyrene felt sick about what the sailors had said. The storm had just come upon them. With no expectation for a storm of this magnitude. Her hands were shaking with the realization.

“Dean…” she said shakily. She could barely be heard over the wind.

“Not now. Let me find out what’s happening. Go below deck, and get out of the rain,” he said.

“Dean!” she cried.

He turned to her with concern in his eyes. He took her hands. “Please, go below deck. We have a very small crew, and this looks like a full-blown hurricane. I have to help get us to safety. I don’t think there’s time to get us back to the capital.”

“I can help,” she said warily.

“No. Even if you were a sailor, you don’t know these waters.” Dean shook his head. “The Creator must be punishing us.”

“What? Why?” she demanded.

“Brigette threw the ring in the holy water without a prayer. She did this.” Cyrene was about to open her mouth to protest, but Dean shook his head. “She’s cursed us. Now, please, get somewhere safe.”

Dean ran off to help the sailors on board, but she could see that it was no use. The waves were too high. The hurricane was coming in too fast. The rain was too heavy.

And she had done this.

When she had pushed her magic out into the world, she had called forth this storm. She, Matilde, Vera, and Avoca had been working on pushing a storm out into the ocean to prevent Ahlvie and Orden from being pursued and to hopefully prevent the Byern army from coming into open water after her. Matilde and Vera had told her that it would never be of full magnitude because they couldn’t go out on open water, and they didn’t want to push Cyrene too much. She was the first magical user in two thousand years with abilities to control the weather…and she had just brought a hurricane down on top of herself.

Dean could try all he wanted to get them to safety, but she had to do what she could to try to stop this. No matter what happened, she couldn’t unleash this on the world.

Bracing herself against the wind and rain, Cyrene reached into herself for her magic. She nearly gasped when so little of it came to her. She had used so much to draw in this hurricane, and she hadn’t even meant for it to happen. She had been so caught up in Dean that her magic had just worked its own way, feeding off of her adrenaline and energy to create something beautiful…and terrible.

Cyrene held on for dear life as the boat dipped and curved with the force of the waves. She dug deeper and deeper into her core, demanding more energy. She needed to control it, contain it. There were consequences for tampering with the weather, especially to this degree. She didn’t want to find out what would happen if she couldn’t stop this. But she hadn’t used this much magic without being linked to Avoca since she had fought off the Indres. And that felt like a lifetime ago.

More magic filled her veins, but it wasn’t enough. She could almost cry. It definitely wasn’t enough. She was depleted and drawing this much out of her reserves was painful. She could feel it singeing through her fingertips and down to her toes. If she drew more, she could black out…or worse, burn out.

But she couldn’t stop.

She swirled the water back in the way it had come. When she had released before, she hadn’t even thought about it. It had left her body, fully formed. Now, she needed to counteract everything she had done, and the scary part was that she didn’t even know how to do it. They had only worked on starting the disaster…not fixing it.

Fear pricked at her. She didn’t want to let this thing run its course.

“What are you doing?” Cyrene heard Dean yell, even over the sound of the wind.

That broke her concentration, and she felt some of her magic dwindle. She contemplated ignoring Dean’s call, but then she heard an unexpected voice.

“Did you think you would just get away with it?”

Cyrene frowned. “Robard.”

How had he gotten on board? She hadn’t seen the crew, but she was sure that Dean would not have included him as part of this. Her stomach dropped. She had a horrible feeling about this. Holding on to her magic as best as she could, she gave up her position on the deck and dashed toward the sound of Dean’s voice.

She found Dean and Robard squared off on the slippery deck. They both had their swords in their hands, and their feet were planted in defensive positions. She was facing Dean, but when he saw her, he actually looked fearful. That must have gotten Robard’s attention because he turned around and lunged for her.

Cyrene screamed and dived out of the way. On instinct, she called up a wave to push him away from her as she ducked and rolled. Her shoulder was already throbbing from the impact. When she looked back up, Robard was a few feet away from her, drenched from head to toe. He looked at her as if he couldn’t believe what had just happened.

“Witch!” Robard called. He regained his footing and looked ready to attack her. “Is this why you’ve been harboring her? She’s a black magic user?”

Cyrene nearly laughed at him, but she wanted to get as far away as possible from him. He had murder in his eyes. She scrambled to her feet and dashed to Dean. He held his sword high to protect her even though it was clear that she could hold her own. At least until she depleted her energy source.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Dean said.

“She just used an evil spell on me.”

“I did nothing of the sort,” Cyrene said defiantly. “All I did was keep you from attacking me!”

“What is this all about, Robard? Why are we fighting? You used to be like my brother!”

“Like your brother,” Robard cried. “Close but never close enough. You were promoted as an officer first, and you became Captain first. You’ve gotten everything because you are the Prince.”

“I’ve worked hard for what I’ve achieved. Maybe if you stopped complaining and put that energy into something worthwhile, you could have made Captain instead of trying to cheat me into it,” Dean cried.

“I put everything into my training. I came from nothing and worked harder than anyone. I lived in the training facility, but it was never enough. There was no way I could ever be the prince. Then, she walks into your life,” Robard cried, pointing his sword at Cyrene, “and suddenly, everything is just perfect. Now, you’re going to wed, and once again, I have nothing.”

“What does Cyrene have to do with anything?”

“Because the Queen, your mother, refused to give me Alise’s hand!” Robard roared. “I did everything I could to show her just the kind of person Cyrene was. Then, even when she is forced to go back to where she belongs, you find a way to get around it.”

Cyrene gasped. “Wait, this was your doing? Did you send the letter to Byern?”

“I had Alise officially send it,” Robard taunted. “But everything was my plan, and it would have worked, too, if Dean hadn’t proposed!”

“You dirty bastard! Can’t have everything you want, so you try to take away my happiness! You will pay for your sins.”

Then, Dean hurled himself at Robard.

It was as if Cyrene were watching the two fight in the sand pit to see who would become Captain all over again. Except, this time, there was no general to determine the winner, and she doubted either of them would stop before the killing blow.

Robard countered Dean’s attack, and then they paced together in a choreographed dance. They knew each other’s strengths and weaknesses. The last time she had seen their sword fight, Dean had won, but Robard had forced him to concede to his weakness. He couldn’t kill his friend. Cyrene saw that Dean was not going to have that problem today, but Robard seemed confident. Recklessly confident. If he overestimated Dean’s ability to forgive him, then he would be in a world of hurt.

Cyrene hurried out of their way so she could fix this. Because she had to fix this. She concentrated on what was going on around her and felt her powers push out into the atmosphere. She didn’t know what she was doing, but she had to try.

Holding on to her powers with a tight leash, she propelled them outward until she could feel almost a residue of what she had done before. Her powers were everywhere. In every drop of water and every air current and every cloud. The ocean teemed with her magic. It was too much and not enough. She could have sat in this trance forever, like a purgatory for her powers.

Then, she felt it…like a thread that connected everything together. Her energy was depleting. She wasn’t strong enough for this. Maybe with Avoca to bolster her, she could have done it. But, now, her breathing was labored. Her body ached. A fever burned through her system. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth against the distant sound of swords clashing together.

Still, she latched on to the thread and began to unravel it. She took one piece and pulled it apart and then the next. The boat rocked, and she fell forward onto her knees. The wood beneath her fingers singed, and she gasped as she realized she had burned the wood.

Everything was relying on this one moment, and she had to keep going. She picked at the thread until she was trembling and writhing in agony, lying on her back. If she didn’t stop and let it go, she wasn’t just going to burn out her powers; she was going to die.

But there was so little left. She could do it. She could right this wrong.

She opened her eyes to try to gain just one more ounce of strength from the world around her. She tried to pull from the great giant ocean, but she had to have the energy for it. She pushed herself to her knees and prayed for this to all end.

Then, she heard a squelching sound and watched as Dean’s sword slid through Robard’s body. He dropped to the deck, and blood pooled all around him. Dean sank to his knees. She couldn’t tell if it was the rain on his cheeks or hot tears streaming down his face, but what she did know was that Robard was dead.

For an instant, she reached out toward the blood and the heat and life force calling to her on the deck. She could feel Robard and his body and the power within him. She could take it. So easily. She could use it to fix this catastrophe. She could right the world with that much power.

She breathed in, feeling the tingling subside in her body. She almost did it. She almost let go. But she knew there were consequences. Robard, no matter how awful, didn’t deserve that. He had called her a dark witch, and if she used his essence to stop this hurricane, even for a good cause, he would be right.

Forcing aside the lust of that feeling, she concentrated on what she could control, and with her last burst of energy, she pushed her magic out into the world. Her body fell back onto the deck just as their ship wrecked onto land. She went flying, but before she landed, her body gave out, and she fell into darkness.