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Chapter one
Thin cushions of air catch my feet as I creep down the hall. My shoes don’t hit the floor, and I make no sound. Creating the buffers beneath each footfall takes little effort. The air around me practically anticipates my wishes like a well-trained pet. Mother says it’s because I don’t force it, that being friendly with elements makes them more cooperative.
Noises ring through the palace as servants clear breakfast trays and clean every already-pristine surface. They’ll be busier than usual today. Even the small family celebration of the prince’s birthday is a special occasion. After all, this is the precursor to the coronation to officially mark him as the heir—the very reason I float toward his chamber now. Past paintings in gilded frames and ancient tapestries, I approach my target in silence. A flick of my hand slides a wall of wind under the door, encasing the entryway. I open the door and close it behind myself.
Prince Rylan sits at his desk facing the window. He’s likely engrossed by some report or something, confident in his belief that no one can sneak up on him. It’s adorable.
Wind chimes tinkle delicately over my head—a rather useless alarm from within my shield. You’ll have to do better than that to catch me.
I still the air around them and drop the shield. My lips press together as the anticipation reaches its peak.
“Happy birthday!” The air works with me to amplify my voice.
Rylan jumps up, throwing the chair halfway across the room. The entire palace shudders with his shock; his green eyes are like saucers when he wheels on me. “Gods, Ara! We’ve talked about this!”
I collapse onto a featherbed of air in a fit of laughter.
“It’s not amusing.”
Between chortles, I say, “Oh, but it is. Your face…” Wall hangings continue to sway slightly from the quake. If I weren’t already tearing up, I’d cry from sheer pride.
The door swings open, and two figures appear. “What happened?” Marcus demands.
“Arabella happened.”
“Arabella can’t shake the palace.” Nina sighs and glances at the wind chime. “When did she figure out how to get past your alarm?”
Rylan crosses his arms and glowers at me. “I was about to ask her that.”
Another fit of giggles totters my shoulders until a shock of cold water hits my face. I gasp and jump to my feet. “Marcus, that was completely unnecessary!”
“Everything you do is unnecessary. Perhaps I’m learning from your example.”
Ry rights his chair and sinks onto it. “Of all of us, Arabella is the sibling you want to emulate?”
I pull a warm gust to dry my face and run my hands through my damp locks, blowing heated air through the strands to evaporate the water. “Silly Marcus, there’s only one among us worth modeling yourself after, and he is your future king.”
Rylan rolls his eyes. “What do you want, Ara?”
“To bring you a gift, of course. It is your birthday, and I am your favorite sister.”
“No, you aren’t.”
“Well, at least I’m Nina’s favorite sister.”
“Having no other options will do that.” Nina smooths her yellow dress as she sits by the vacant hearth. A fire springs to life without wood or kindling.
“Nina.” Rylan’s voice takes on an annoyed sense of authority. “It’s too warm for that.”
“Ara?”
The request is understood without her voicing it. I cool the room so we can all be content. As much as my brothers and sister complain of the turmoil I cause, I’m always the one to clear the air between us.
We fall into a routine without any cues: Marcus fills the kettle with a snap of his fingers, I float it over Nina’s fire, and Rylan pulls some leaves from one of the many plants in his sitting room.
“Aside from a heart attack,” Ry says as they wither and dry in his palm, “what is my birthday gift? Shall I don armor before receiving it?”
I waft the dried leaves into cups on the table near the fireplace. “Armor would be about as useful against me as your ridiculous wind chimes. Here.” I flick my fingers toward him, forming an airy halo atop his head.
