I close my hand around the necklace, swallowing my sorrow. I’m sorry, Mom. I’ll find a way to fix it. I don’t notice it at first, the disk pulsing against my palm like a heartbeat. Then blinding green-and-silver flames burst through the seams of my fingers, and I’m thrown flat onto my back. The fire surrounds me—then consumes me until it burns inside me. It levitates me off the ground, holding me aloft for a split second before it explodes. I crack like the jade disk. My shout escapes my throat as green-and-silver fire, and my eyes flare with the flames. And I burn. I am the fire. Then it
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