Next to the stool is an overturned cup, a trickle of blood on its rim. Elder Kauko has probably just gorged himself, stealing Eljas’s magic to grow his own power. And at the back of the chamber is the entrance to the wide stone corridor that leads to the dock. A ball of fire floating within the passage reveals the silhouette of the elder, dragging a little girl toward the rusted metal door at the end of the tunnel. On the other side lies the pier—and the boat.
“Stop!” shouts Sig, but Kauko spins, wickedly fast, and sends a wall of ice at us. I feel Sig’s magic reverberate through me as he sends an inferno out to meet it. The tunnel fills with steam that becomes ice crystals that fall to the stones at our feet.
Kauko grabs Lahja by the hair and pulls her in front of him as she shrieks. “Strike at me again and she’ll die.”
I squeeze Sig’s hand and he stops. We’re about twenty feet from the elder. The docks are a few dozen yards behind him. “Let her go, Elder Kauko. I know there’s a spark of kindness and mercy in you.” I can’t believe he’s the one. I wish it weren’t true.
A sad, sympathetic smile curves his thick lips. “I was always fond of you, Elli. You understood how badly we needed the magic.”
“For the people, though. Not for the elders and priests.”
“It’s the same thing. We are the magic that defines the Kupari. They’re nothing without us. But I’m sorry you were caught up in it. We all thought you were the Valtia. It was a terrible mistake.”
I nod at the gasping, struggling child clamped to Kauko’s fleshy middle. “You don’t want to hurt her.”
“And if you don’t either, you’ll let us go,” he replies. “Haven’t you all killed enough today?” He drags Lahja back a few steps. “I’m trying to protect her!” His gaze is dark and desperate on mine, begging me to understand.
Sig lurches forward, his entire body vibrating with readiness. “Do you remember me, Elder?”
Kauko’s eyebrow arches. “Should I?”
“I’ve got a back full of lash marks that says yes,” Sig hisses. Heat rolls off him like nothing I’ve ever felt, making the dripping water along the cavern walls boil and evaporate.
Lahja starts to cry as her skin turns pink.
“Stop it!” I cry, tugging at Sig’s hand. He’s crushing my fingers.
Oskar counteracts the heat, cooling the air. “Sig,” he says softly, a warning. “The girl . . .”
Kauko’s eyes narrow as he regards Sig. “You’re the one who escaped. And I know what you are. I tasted it.” His fingers curl over Lahja’s chest and his eyes drift to me, full of accusation. “Elli, do you have any idea how dangerous and unbalanced he is? He’ll kill us all. He was never meant to walk free. What have you done?”
There are so many things I could say to that, but none of them seem important as I stare at the tiny figure huddled against the elder’s round belly. Her red dress is damp at the hem, and her slippers are sodden. Her rosebud lips are trembling with terror. “I’ve come to take the Saadella,” I say. “She belongs with me.”
“She belongs with the Valtia,” Kauko snarls, his lips peeling back to reveal the blood on his teeth.
“And you plan to use the girl to lure her in,” Oskar says, his voice a blade.
Kauko looks Oskar up and down. “Ice wielder.” He blinks as the temperature in the tunnel drops suddenly. There’s a glimmer of surprise in his gaze, but I swear, I see hunger as well.
“Kauko,” I bark, drawing his attention back to me. “We’ll let you live if you release her.”
Blazing heat courses up my arm, but Sig stays quiet.
Kauko backs up a few more steps. Lahja whimpers. “I don’t know how you convinced all these wielders to follow you, but you’re an impostor,” he says. “You only want her to make a false claim on the throne. You shouldn’t even be involved in this!”
Sig takes another sudden step forward. It feels like my arm is caught in the jaws of a bear, tugging relentlessly at the power I harbor in my hollow chest. “She’s far from an impostor, Tahvo,” he says.
Kauko’s eyes widen, but then he controls his surprise. “I haven’t heard that name in a long time.” His smile becomes a grimace of anger. “Raimo took something that belongs to the priesthood. I’d like it back.”
Power pulses from Sig, and it smells of hatred and a deep, bitter need for vengeance. His pale body glows in the darkness of the tunnel, like he’s lit from within. “Oh, I’ll give it back,” he says in that familiar, shaky voice.
“Sig,” I say, trying to rip my hand from his as I feel his magic drawing from the well inside me.
“Sig,” shouts Oskar as we both feel the heat. But as he reaches for Sig, the fire wielder twists and sends a blast of devastating flame right at Oskar, who’s thrown against the tunnel wall, stunned and smoking.