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haven’t always done a good job of showing that. But we are. You need

us to break you into that prison for training? We’ll make it happen.”

“Exactly,” Sophie agreed. “I mean, we broke into Exile. How hard

could it be?”

The flames over Marella’s hands cooled back to blue, and her lips

pulled into a smile. “You guys should see the looks on your

bodyguards’ faces right now. It’s like a contest to see who can give the

evilest glare—though your guard doesn’t really look surprised, Biana.”

“I’m sure he isn’t,” Biana said, smiling over her shoulder at poor

Woltzer.

“The only reason I’m not dragging you all back to Havenfield,”

Sandor told them, “is because I’m assuming this is hyperbole to show

your loyalty.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Biana told him, tossing her hair.

“Obviously there’s a lot to figure out,” Sophie jumped in, before

Sandor could shift into overprotective mode. “And there’s no hurry for

you to decide,” she told Marella. “We just wanted to tell you what

Fintan said as soon as we could so you wouldn’t think we were hiding

it from you. But you can think about it for as long as—”

“I have to do it,” Marella interrupted, letting the flames over her

hands swell bigger and bigger, until it looked like she was about to

lose control. Then she curled her fingers, snuffing the fire out with a

thin curl of smoke. “I have to train with Fintan. I know there will be

risks, but . . . he’s right about this power. It isn’t just that flames call to

me. It’s like they’re in me. This constant inferno in my head, begging

me to let it take control.”

Sophie tried to hide her shudder, but Marella still noticed. And

instead of looking hurt or angry—like she had every right to—she

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