Page 209 of Carousel

We have been swarmed.

“I don’t think we can only target the enemy ships.”

“No,” Dezeeves agrees. “They will all need to be halted.”

Our magic won’t be strong enough for this. Nowhere near strong enough.

I know that.

Drake knows that.

Why does Dezeeves think it can?

But, as Drake’s magic is already warming my clammy palm, I have no choice but to try.

I see the white lights. Feel the pressure in my head, the stabbing in my scars, the fire in my veins. I cast the magic between us outwards through the glass, like a fishing line into water, even though the sensation it brings on in me is more like I’m the fish being dragged out.

Cease your fire, I command the air. Cease your fire.

The ship nearest to us twitches as it chases Riss. Stops, barely.

But then the ship is moving again. At least freezing it momentarily has given Riss time to swerve up and out of its line of fire.

But now the enemy ship is too close to the Osimidite Chamber.

My eyes widen.

It’s the Rhavnan ambush all over again.

Drake groans, like I’m causing him pain. I meet his eyes, which are stone cold. His jaw is locked.

“I’m trying,” I promise him.

“No,” he snarls. “You are working against me. Work with me. It should not feel like you are fighting me. It should feel⁠—”

“Like what?”

“Like giving in. Letting things be the way they’re meant to be.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“Try,” he strains. “Or you’re going to get Riss – and maybe all of us, once she’s gone, since she’s the only one doing any damage out there – incinerated.”

“If we die, it won’t be because of me,” I hiss out of the corner of my mouth, in Dezeeves’ direction.

Dezeeves chimes in. “You have accepted the union, and your duty, have you not, Ara? I had thought that is why you came. And why you sent Cosmer away.”

“Yes,” I say. “Obviously.”

Outside, Riss is circling back around again. She aims at the same ship, which is now facing the Chamber.

But a familiar hawker ship soars into the scene, beating her to the kill with a single perfect shot.

My heart – and my magic – surges. Cosmer.

Seeing his ship, Riss’ termite does a sort of dance in the air. I’ve seen the exact manoeuvre before. She’s challenging me, Cosmer had said. I can almost hear Riss’ own nasally voice talking to him over the radio. It’s going on the winners’ board.

Mediocre at best. Cosmer would reply. I give it a five.