“Hey.” Kristan snapped her fingers and held her hand out imperiously. She had better control of her magic than Noah had expected—he didn’t like her a damn bit, didn’t feel anything pleasant about her. Still, he lit her a cigarette and passed it over. “Thank you,” she said, changing lanes without signaling and sliding the Volvo between a dump truck and a bus.

“Yeah, yeah.” Noah tried to keep from putting his foot through the floorboards. “Just...don’t crash.”

“I’m not stupid.” Kristan narrowed her eyes as she pulled out to pass the bus on the right.

Noah was about to argue the point when he saw that she was headed for the exit into Wildwood. Not much farther.

They didn’t go more than a block off the exit ramp before the problem was apparent. Traffic lights were out all over town, and in the distance, a Ferris wheel sat unmoving against the perfect blue sky.

Kristan parked in a pay lot near the boardwalk, but when Lindsay got out of the car, he pointed the other way. “I think it started over there.”

When Noah turned, he understood. Across the street, a motel sign was flashing neon blue in a pattern he recognized: S-O-S.

“I need to see.” Lindsay was halfway across the street before Noah realized he was moving.

Lindsay didn’t stop at the sign. He vaulted the fence around the pool easier than Noah would’ve expected from someone who looked that fragile, and pounded up the stairs, clanging metal announcing every step. So much for stealth. Good thing everyone else was too frantic to notice them. The motel guests were milling about anxiously, in and out of their rooms, unsure whether to seek shelter or flee the building.

“Can you call Ylli?” he asked Kristan. He didn’t want to interrupt Dane and he was sure Cyrus didn’t carry a cell phone.

“I’ll take care of it.” Kristan reached into an inside pocket of her summer jacket and Noah caught sight of what looked like a gun holster. Vivian’s people were more in the world, maybe it was her choice that they protect themselves. Guns were useful things—there was little way to track a mundane murder back to a mage.

Lindsay was already past the first landing and Noah decided to get his priorities straight. He took the stairs two at a time to catch up. It was shocking how unfit he’d become and how fast Lindsay was for someone who looked like he’d been kept indoors his whole life. At the edge of the narrow walkway around the motel, Lindsay gripped the rail and, for a moment, Noah thought he was going to vault that, too, and launch himself into the pool below. Instead, he stared into the distance, searching the skyline for more signs of the new mage’s manifestation.

“You can feel through your magic, yes?” Noah looked around, turning to see the chaos spreading through the city.

Two blocks from the motel, he watched a delivery van plow through an intersection and slam into the back end of an old car, sending it spinning out of control. The car wrapped around a lamppost and, even at this distance, Noah could feel the dull thud of the fuel catching fire. He snapped his magic down on it and the flames went out, but there was nothing he could do about the rest.

“We need to make these people stay still.” His heart was pounding hard enough he thought he was going to be sick. The memories of his own accident resonated through him. “And maybe you’ll find what you’re looking for.”

“Give me a minute.” Lindsay was still staring off at the city. Noah wanted to tell him they didn’t have a minute, that these people were going to get themselves killed, but then he saw the traffic lights flicker to life—all red.

Men in uniforms—traffic cops and city workers—appeared at the intersections, working to fix the problem. They weren’t real, Noah knew, but it was hard to remember that when drivers and pedestrians interacted with them so naturally.

Lindsay still didn’t turn toward Noah, but he held out his hand. “Come here. I can keep you out of the illusion, and you can stop the fires.”

As the chaos faded, Noah’s composure returned. He took Lindsay’s hand, knowing the illusion was about to disappear and he would have to deal with reality. Already, he could see that whatever was wrong wasn’t an assault and it wasn’t coordinated. Maybe Lindsay would know more soon.

“Kristan needs to find us,” he reminded Lindsay.

“We won’t be hidden. But I need to be careful not to interfere with Cyrus and Dane.”

Reality returned slowly, like the opening sequence of a movie. Smoke rose from a diner down the street, power lines sparked with too much electricity, but the illusion flickered at the edges of Noah’s vision, like if he turned his head fast enough, he would be able to see the calm that had been there a moment before.

It was easier than Noah remembered to let his magic out. He could feel fires flowering far beyond the range of his vision, and he carefully eliminated each. The worst was at a gas station where all hell had broken loose. He couldn’t see it to know what had happened, but he could feel the fire feeding from the tanks and devouring everything in reach. Like always, there was a sense of sadness at quelling the flames, putting out what had been vivid and alive. But he could feel the fire gnawing at flesh, and he couldn’t let that happen.

Beside him, Lindsay looked like a statue, paler than ever and taut with strain. His gray eyes were fixed on nothing that Noah could see, but he was watching whatever it was with intensity. He breathed like Noah remembered breathing to ride out the pain of a broken arm or wrecked knee, keeping on top of it and staying focused. Noah couldn’t imagine what he saw. The fires were overwhelming enough, and Lindsay had thousands of sentient creatures to convince that all was well.

When the wind whipped up and Lindsay swayed with it, clinging to the rail, Noah wrapped his arms around him without thinking. Lindsay leaned into him and Noah managed to pry Lindsay’s white-knuckled hands from the rail. If they needed to leave, Lindsay couldn’t take that with him.

Knowing how difficult it was to sustain that much magic and not being able to help was maddening.

At the same time, Noah was filled with a kind of awe that was tinged with dread. Very few people must have known how powerful Lindsay was, or he wouldn’t be breathing still.

As Lindsay let his head rest on Noah’s chest, Noah stroked the hair out of his face. The wind kept lashing at them, tearing at the signs and façades on the buildings around them until Noah could hear them coming apart. Cyrus’s body might be fading, but his magic was still immense.

“They’re at the boardwalk.” Kristan had to shout to be heard over the wind. “We need to stay, to make sure he can keep the humans from knowing what’s really happening.” She wiped her hand across her face where blood was trickling from a gash. “He’s okay?”

“He’s fine.” Noah let his hand slide to rest on Lindsay’s throat, so he could feel the pulse skittering under Lindsay’s soft skin. Fast, but steady. Yes, he was fine. “You?”

“Piece of trash hit me.” Kristan pressed her sleeve to her cheek.

“Least it was a fair fight.” Noah couldn’t resist, even in the chaos.

“Fuck off and light me a cigarette,” she snapped. “And focus. I saw smoke back three blocks behind you.”

Focus. Right. Noah dug out his cigarettes while his mind wandered back, looking for the fire. This rearguard action was going to kill him, with the waiting and the not knowing and having to trust Cyrus and Dane. But this was his place. He cut another fire off at the roots and the flames blew away in the wind. It was better than he could have hoped for.

Dane hated driving the van. It was remarkably like the time he’d tried to ride a cow, and he wasn’t thinking about how many decades ago that had happened. Having Ylli in the van didn’t improve his temper. No matter how much he loved Vivian, her charges got on his nerves and had since he could remember. Ylli was a bright young man, but shy and withdrawn. There wasn’t anything he’d done to earn Dane’s animosity, it was just there.