The door came apart rather than open, splinters scattering across the floorboards, and the first figure through it moved in a way that made my stomach turn even before I processed what I was looking at — too fluid, too silent, like something wearing the shape of a person without having fully committed to the idea of joints.
Amara moved first. Her light came up in a wide silver arc, not a blast so much as a wall, and the figure recoiled from it with a sound that wasn't quite a snarl and wasn't quite anything I had language for, something old and dry and misplaced.
"Mia." Kael's voice, right at my shoulder. "Whatever you did in Cole's kitchen. Whatever you did at the assembly. Do it now."
I didn't have time to be afraid of getting it wrong. My hands were already burning gold, warmer than
