“I had wondered, my king,” said Evyline gravely.

A wave of screams from outside drew them out onto the terrace, where sheets of rain rippled like black veils. Atheria used her wings to shield them from the worst of it.

Audric squinted through the storm. What had once remained of the damaged beach had disappeared beneath climbing waves that must have surpassed one hundred feet, more whitecap than water. He watched in horror as great piles of wreckage swept out with the tide—bungalows and piers, the lookout towers that dotted the coastline, the market district, an entire neighborhood of apartments. With each wave, another piece of the city fell into the sea.

Ludivine appeared at his side, her expression solemn.

“How many people have died?” Audric asked her.

“Five hundred and two,” she said quietly.

“Where is Kamayin? The queens?”

“Organizing their elementals near the water, trying to fend off the worst of it.”

Audric turned at once and climbed onto Atheria’s back. He reached down to Ludivine, helped her settle behind him.

Evyline lurched forward. “My king, no!”

But Atheria had already pushed off into the wild air, and soon the terrace was far behind them. The chavaile dove through the rain and wind, dodging chunks of debris—uprooted trees, shattered wooden shutters, shards of roof tiles, black sprays of dirt and rock. As they flew, Audric surveyed the devastation below. Churning water surged through the flooded streets, carrying wreckage and drowned animals. The citizens of Quelbani climbed frantically for higher ground.

Atheria brought them to a broad stretch of road that had become the new shoreline, littered with seaweed, shells, and beached fish. Queen Bazati and Queen Fozeyah directed squadrons of elementals. Earthshakers struggled to stabilize the sodden ground. Windsingers, arms in the air, wrangled what wind they could.

And Princess Kamayin, her gown plastered to her body, the castings around her wrists flashing like trapped stars, shouted orders to a band of waterworkers gathered in a triangle. Their efforts subdued a crashing wave, shoving it back toward the sea—but more waves were just behind it, relentless and raging, and though Kamayin’s elementals fought valiantly, a helpless panic was writ plain on their faces.

They knew this was not a storm of the natural world.

They knew they might not survive it.

Audric guided Atheria down to land beside the queens, then leapt to the ground and drew Illumenor. The sun was distant, diminished by the storm and the late hour, but Audric nevertheless felt light everywhere around him. The infinite, familiar warmth of it, forever bright beyond the clouds, tugged at his heart like the rhythm of a long-beloved song.

As he focused on the connection between him and the light, on the power speeding faster and faster through his body, Illumenor began to glow. And when it had reached a brilliant shine, Audric released the tension in his body, directed his power outward, and cast broad rays of sunlight in a circle, himself the blazing heart.

He held the light in place, his mind gripping the vibrating reins of his power. The heat turned the rain to steam before it could hit the ground, and while standing within the bounds of Audric’s light, the elementals nearest him could wipe their faces and catch their breaths.

As he held his power steady, Audric glanced to his left and noticed Sanya, the soldier who had confronted him in the training yard. She was not, it seemed, an elemental. Instead, she was working with other soldiers to build high piles of debris and canvas bags filled with sand.

“Sanya!” he called out. “Bring me chains, rope—anything that can hold against the wind. The strongest things you can find!”

Sanya, her face screwed up against the lashing rain, leapt to obey, calling others to help her.

Kamayin rushed over, the castings around her wrists still faintly aglow, her soaked brown skin gleaming in Audric’s casted light. Beyond her, the queens continued shouting commands.

“What are you planning?” Kamayin cried.

Audric yelled to be heard. “I think I can break apart the storm.”

Kamayin’s gaze flitted over his sword, his arms. “You’re strong enough for that?”

An image flashed into his mind—Rielle riding Atheria out to meet the tidal wave that threatened Borsvall’s shores. How brilliantly she had burned against that dark wall of water, a beacon of hope for everyone who saw her.

He held the image close, aching with love. “I can do it. Lu, help them as you can. Focus their minds, boost their confidence.”

He expected her to protest, but she simply nodded, her pale eyes grave, locks of gold hair gone dark against her cheeks.

A burst of screams made Kamayin turn and cry out in despair.

Audric glanced back in time to see a massive wave bearing down on a section of beach some thousand yards away. The wave crested with a roar and then crashed down hard, flattening everything in its path.

“Here!” Sanya rushed over along with another soldier. Between them, they carried a length of huge, sand-crusted chain and a coil of sodden rope.

Audric called out to everyone gathered, “I’m going to release the light! Prepare yourselves!”

Elementals and soldiers alike turned back toward the storm, their expressions resolute. The windsingers raised their arms, and Audric felt the air tighten as they focused their power.

Then he released his hold on his own. Illumenor darkened, as did the beach. The rain crashed back down, and the soldiers resumed constructing their wall.

Audric climbed onto Atheria, shouting over the rain and wind, “The chain! Tie it around us! Tight, but not enough to hurt her!”

Sanya and the other soldier, Kamayin, and Ludivine all hurried forward, helping Audric wrap the lengths of chain around his legs and waist and around Atheria’s stomach until he was anchored snugly in place between her trembling wings.

Then, reading his intentions, Atheria knelt, looked over at Sanya, and snorted.

Sanya hesitated, clutching the coil of rope in her hands. “My lord…the storm will blow your godsbeast from the sky.”

Audric raised his hands, Illumenor gripped between them. “As tight as you can, Sanya. Tighter than you think you should.”

Sanya shot him a single worried look, then hurried to obey, wrapping the rope several times around his hands and Illumenor’s hilt, so tightly his hands bloomed with pain.

More screams rose from behind him, at the city’s edge, but he did not turn back to look.

Ludivine sent him a sharp hot wave of encouragement. Go, my darling.

Audric closed his eyes, sending Atheria a silent apology.

“With the dawn I rise,” he prayed. “With the day I blaze.”