“Take a breath!” Andarna demands. “Don’t argue!” Not darkness. Wings. It’s her belly at my back and she’s wrapped her wings around us. “Breathe in and hold it!” I shout, then fill my lungs with sulfur-scented air. Heat blasts, roaring past us in a stream that shakes Andarna’s wings, and the temperature soars. I force my eyes closed to keep them from cooking as my skin burns as though we’ve been thrown into an oven. How can she survive this? “She’s fireproof,” Tairn reminds me, but the panic in his voice doesn’t do much to soothe the terror clamping down on my heart.
