The dawn bloomed clear and bright. Claire could see for miles when she looked outside their moving cart, an early morning breeze having blown away the campfire smoke. The landscape was tough as nails with black patches stretching out on either side of the baggage train, but it was the sight above her that was spellbinding. The sky gleamed with strong primary colours. Scarring the horizon, a long black crack ran along its entire width. Smoke wisped at its torn edges.

“The Rift,” Lotte breathed, as she peered outside the cart’s curtain over Claire’s shoulder.

Gareth ignored them. Though last night Claire and Lotte had shared the good news about Lotte’s latent magical ability, neither he nor Jemroth had been too pleased. Claire longed to pull a face at him, but she knew it wouldn’t help.

“We’ve no time to lose,” she said to Lotte instead, letting the curtain fall back into place and pretending she hadn’t heard Jemroth’s pained sighs up ahead where he directed the horses. Eidan’s servant boy had taken pity on Claire this morning, thinking her overworked given he’d watched her pretend to stagger away from him back to camp the previous evening. He’d taken over driving her cart when the baggage train had begun to move again which had suited Claire perfectly because now she, Lotte, Gareth and Jemroth were all together as they neared their final destination. “Like I explained yesterday, I don’t know the first thing about House Ushanan spells, but Lyssa taught us how to connect and draw on each other’s learth as Kelt did and that’s all you’ll need to learn to help me close the Rift.”

Gareth sniffed and turned away.

Claire raised her voice. “And you, Gareth, shall help. When Lotte and I can connect, you must add yourself to the braid.”

He muttered something under his breath but didn’t deny her.

She turned her attention back to Lotte. “Plump up some blankets and lie down. Breathe in and out slowly like you saw me do in the mountains with Lyssa.” She waited for Lotte to do as she asked, the exile’s eyes wide with interest.

They had a few hours before they reached Gwenivere’s party, so Claire had decided now was the time to practise. This was their one shot to get it right. As soon as the army made ready for battle, Claire and the others would have no choice but to try and close the Rift, regardless of how prepared they felt. Or how on-board Gareth and Jemroth were with Claire’s plan to use Lotte.

“I’ll be right next to you,” she made herself go on, crossing her legs, arm brushing against the basket of bread and cheese she’d taken out of the supplies bag to ensure all of them could restore their strength after the working. “Now, when I do this, I imagine fire flowing through and beyond me and let the power rush through my body. I know it’s there, but I don’t use it. Then, when I open my eyes, the world is changed, tinged with learth. How is it for you, Gareth?”

She counted ten seconds passing before he turned around and answered. “I do the same as you, only I imagine water coursing through my bloodstream.”

“And Jemroth?”

“I think his is less concrete than ours. More about the acknowledgement of his flesh and the connection it has to our world.” He forced a smile. “I’d say his method relates most to House Ushanan because air is just as all-present.” He shuffled closer to Lotte and Claire, his sudden helpfulness a form of apology. “I think we’ll need to experiment. Lotte, once you’re in that meditative state, notice how the air touches your skin and your reaction to it. Are you warmer at its presence? You’ll feel learth as an extension of yourself.”

Claire shot him a grateful grin. “Good one. Lotte, are you OK to start?”

“As ‘OK’ as I’ll ever be,” she said. “But I ain’t completely in the dark.” She laughed as Claire shot her a puzzled glance. “The Crian taught me how to summon her and honestly, it sounds like she were gettin’ me to draw on magic. I’d sense this kind of disturbance in the air and a pull in my chest and do this breathing stuff like yer describing.”

Claire studied her face for a moment, then nodded. “Lie back and tell me when you’re ready for instructions.”

She closed her own eyes, feeling feverish. At first, flashes of thought swirled, making it impossible to concentrate. The Beast, Marcus, Grandfather, Eidan, Lotte and Gareth. Fear, anger, frustration, sadness and hope. She was so close to winning this thing.

She willed all thought away as Lotte whispered, “Ready.”

Claire counted out loud until she heard Lotte’s breathing fall into a steady rhythm. “Imagine the wind on your face and caressing your skin. Imagine the air as a physical thing,” Claire began.

The cart rocked and Jemroth shouted out in alarm, sudden force ripping around Claire and making her hair stand on end. She opened her eyes to find Lotte looking apologetic and Gareth’s cheeks pale as goose bumps formed up his arms.

“Sorry. That weren’t meant to happen,” Lotte explained.

“I don’t know. A mini tornado is pretty cool,” Claire laughed the incident off as she flung a hunk of bread to Lotte. “Eat that, then try again. You don’t want to recreate what you imagine. You want to feel it become part of you.”

“Yep. Got it.”

Though they repeated the exercise many times with varying results (the worst result being when Lotte accidentally cut off their air supply) eventually Lotte figured out how to access learth without using it.

At Lotte’s peaceful expression, Claire’s shoulders slumped to normal height. Contemplating what she’d do if Lotte couldn’t get the hang of this technique hadn’t been fun. Now their real challenge could begin.

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Claire imagined burning fire deep within her, spreading through her veins, taking her consciousness with it so it was freed into her surroundings. She heard a sharp click. In the blackness of her mind, she saw a streaming rope of red and orange rush out of her mouth, her hands, her legs to float around the cart.

She pictured Lotte, her unique blend of silver and pearly white, and wanted to crow when she saw Lotte’s colours rise to meet her. Perfect, she thought, and before her friend could get any closer, she twined her own essence into Lotte’s ethereal stream, remembering to keep her mind disengaged unlike when she’d first practised this with Gareth.

-Hello- she sounded.

-Is that ya, Claire?- Lotte’s awed voice echoed back.

-Yes. Stay with me. I’m going to get Gareth to join us. No- she hastened as Lotte began to fade in and out. -Keep concentrating on me- She waited for her friend’s colours to re-establish themselves before glancing about the silvery cart for Gareth.

His essence hovered nearby, familiar blues calling to her. Gingerly, he wended his way closer, pausing over hers and Lotte’s combined braid. Before Claire could wonder what it was he waited for, something slammed against her mind.

Lotte panicked, slipping this way and that like an eel while Gareth came dangerously close to dive bombing her memories again. Head aching and colours threatening to splinter, it took all Claire’s energy and skill to keep the three of them wound tight. Any second, she’d lose them, any second …

-Stop it-she screamed, pressure building in a band around her forehead and temples. -You’re hurting me-

-Can’t help it-Lotte sounded. -Nothin’s workin’ right-

-I can’t either- Gareth called. -Without a Dream Mage to watch over us and this close to the Rift, I fear our magic is too unstable-

Claire gritted her teeth -At least there’s no sign of the Beast yet-

-Don’t tempt fate-

The colours of the Rift opened impossibly before her, as though the roof of the cart no longer existed; the hard ground beneath it cast in planes of shadow and light. How could she see outdoors when she was seated on a wooden floor with animal hide coverings stretched above her? Even as she pondered, the landscape stretched out wider.

-Don’t think of it- sounded Gareth sharply. –Think of Lotte and I-

Claire tried to, but every time she conjured up Lotte’s elven face, fear of the incoming Beast drowned the images out and cast her like a floating buoy back to the yawning cavern of the Rift. Traitorous thoughts infected her like spores. The last time she’d lost control of a major working, she’d almost killed a man. And if she lost either of the two people enmeshed with her today …

-Come on- Gareth growled.

-Trying- Pain ripped through Claire’s fingers as she dug them into the wood in a bid to distract herself. Every time she focused on Gareth by the ocean or Lotte threading her mother’s necklace through reverent palms, the Beast’s cackle and Sleath’s burnt face ripped through it like a match curling up paper and blackening the words and images held on its creamy page.

-Quick- Gareth’s voice sounded. –End the spell-

Something ripped at her mind and she scrunched her eyes shut, biting down so hard on her tongue she tasted blood. As stinging tears squeezed from the corners of her eyes, the Beast hovered above her with the rent of the Rift behind it like a hungry crack, about to eat them all.

-End it! By the Nereus, you’ll kill us all-

In rising alarm, Claire forced herself to think of Gareth. The braid they’d carefully woven remained intact. She un-wove Gareth first, peeling his essence out of the braid. With his experience in learth, he could dive straight back into a working to help her. Then, she turned her attention to Lotte. The exile’s terror manifested as a slipperiness.

-Stay still- Claire screamed in exasperation, not daring to check where the Beast was in relation to her, even as its cackle reverberated through her whole body. At last, Lotte was separate to Claire, but how much time did Claire herself have to escape?

She tried to reel her cord back inside herself, but she found it hard to concentrate on the learth singing through her blood. The Beast followed, sending colour after colour chasing her; spears of multi-coloured light that dazzled and would have delighted in any other circumstance.

A spear made of garish lime, psychedelic blue and eyepopping red pierced her and sent her sprawling upwards.

Gareth screamed. Something sharp dug into Claire’s corporeal flesh. Agony bloomed as hard pressure made her tingle. The feelings grounded her. What was she doing? Up was down and down was up as she sailed through unnatural sky. She was getting further and further away from Eidan’s baggage train. If she didn’t do something, she’d die.

With a vicious wrench, Claire ripped away from the Beast. Colours fell around her like rain.

She opened her eyes to find a shadowed Gareth standing over her.

“Sorry for the pinches and punches. I’ve never been so terrified in my life,” Gareth said. “You were nearly lost altogether.”

“Thank you for saving me,” Claire said, voice shaking. She thanked the salamanders she had such good friends.

“We shouldn’t have tried to do this,” he said, hand to his forehead. “Lotte’s too inexperienced and the Rift’s too unstable.” He indicated Lotte as he slumped backwards. She lay passed out on a pile of coats. “This whole thing’s hopeless.”

But Claire only half took in Lotte’s too chalky skin and dilated pupils. Instead, she stared beyond her. The cart had come to a halt, the cow skin covering at its back burnt away, cinders and smoke curling around its edges. “Did I do that?” She stretched out a trembling finger.

Gareth didn’t look up. “Do what?”

Claire inched closer to the scorched hole. Within a few footsteps she saw right outside. Rings of fire surrounded the horses and carts behind them, men and women frozen in terror.

Sleath rose before her like a warning. I won’t let this happen a second time. She held out a palm, gritted her teeth against the screaming and reached for each flame one by one, pinching them out. It took her a good five minutes, but soon, there was no evidence of her out of control learth working beyond soot and ash, curling rank smoke and the kicking of spooked horses. She was so relieved she didn’t even care everyone stared at her open-mouthed or that Jemroth was cursing up front.

“What’re you doing?” Gareth shouted.

“Saving them,” she said, shocked at his anger. “I’ll not be responsible for more innocents losing their life.”

Gareth’s hand connected with her shoulder and pulled her back to face him. He hauled her to the ground, so hard she was sure she’d bruise at the knees. “Take it easy,” she said indignantly. “Are you trying to break a bone?”

“Are you stupid?” Gareth hissed. “The fires mean magic, and now you’re putting them out, they’ll know we’re responsible. What do you think happens to those with learth in this camp? I’d say we have about five minutes before an alarm’s sounded. How useful do you think our magic will be against an entire army? The ground is so unforgiving here it will take Jemroth ages to work a spell. I’d have to melt ice before I could do something remotely useful with learth and Lotte is out cold.”

Claire felt the colour drain from her face. “I … I didn’t think. I was so afraid for them I—”

“What in Lugh’s name is going on here?” a growling voice sounded from behind her. She’d been so busy arguing, she hadn’t heard Jemroth’s shouts snuff out.

Heart pounding, Claire swung around to find the overseer who’d hired her holding a knife to a well-trussed Jemroth’s throat, three other soldiers ranged behind him.