Before she could say it again, the wind shifted, sending a hot, malevolent gust of air toward them. It grew and grew and they all turned to look.
Isika saw something move in the upper corner of her vision, and she turned to see a shape plummet out of the sky in front of her, landing at her feet. It was Keethior. He landed, tall, feathers out with all reflected red and purple lights, brighter than ever in the glow of the fire.
“Leave, Isika,” he said for everyone to hear. “Daughter, you must go now.”
She had never heard him sound afraid before, and she flinched at the intensity in his words. There was pressure from the fire and the two wisest beings in her life. The rangers’ song grew louder and Isika bowed her head, listening, knowing she could pull water from the river too. She could h
