Page 11 of Midnight Star

“The branches will help block the wind,” he says, not looking at me as he speaks. “And the snow will be good insulation for our shelter.”

“What shelter?” I ask, looking around for something I might have missed.

“The one we’re about to build,” he says, as if it should have been obvious. “I’m assuming you’ve heard of an igloo?”

“Of course I’ve heard of igloos.” I scoff, since Zoey and I built them all the time as kids during the winter.

Well, wetriedto build them. Our attempts resulted in walls that shot straight up to the sky, since we could never figure out how to get them to curve inward and meet at the top.

“We’re going to build one,” Riven says, ice shards dancing around him as he begins bringing the snow together in what looks to be blocks. “Use your magic to heat the air around the snow to stick the blocks together, like when you made the icicles stick to the bottoms of your and Zoey’s boots during the bridge trial.”

Heat the air around the ice.

I pause as the words sink in.

“I used air magic to melt the ice,” I realize. “Not water magic.”

“That’s my working theory, since summer fae can only control water in its liquid form,” he says, motioning to the two blocks closest to me. He created themquickly,although that isn’t a surprise, given how fast he put up the ice wall in the cave to shield us from the storm. “How about you give it a go and put my theory to the test?”

I nod and kneel next to the blocks, trying to focus on the task rather than the cold distance between me and Riven.

My magic is shaky. Unstable. When I try warming the first block to thaw its surface, I melt it to the point where it’s misshapen completely.

Riven exhales sharply. “Careful with your focus,” he says. “You’re using too much heat. Ground yourself. Steady your breathing. Control your emotions, and therefore, your magic.”

“I’m trying,” I snap, although all I do is heat the air so much that the remains of the block melt completely. “I don’t exactly have a lifetime of practice, like you.”

He stops working on the igloo, his silver eyes locking on to me like knives pinning me down.

“I’m aware,” he says slowly, forcing a calmness intohis voice that wasn’t there before. “Which is why I’m trying to help. Unless you don’t want a place to sleep?”

“Of course I do.”

“Then try harder.”

I bite back an argument rising in my throat and focus on the blocks again, inhaling deeply and summoning the air magic within me. As I do, I imagine being as Riven described: grounded, steady, and controlled.

Three things I’m definitely not feeling right now.

The next pulse of warmth I send out is lighter, and the edge of the ice block melts just enough to fuse to the one beside it.

“There.” Riven nods with approval. “That’s better.”

“I told you I was trying,” I say, and for the next few minutes, we fall into a steady rhythm.

He crafts the blocks with swift precision, and I cautiously follow his instructions to meld them together.

“Why do you even need my help?” I finally ask. “You created that ice wall in the cave—the one that protected us from a mega blizzard—in seconds. Why is an igloo so much harder than that?”

“I never said I needed your help,” he says simply. “You, however, need mine.”

I freeze and stare at him, dropping hold of my magic.

“So, this is another training session?” I ask, and he gives me that trademark smirk of his—the one that means he’s enjoying catching me off guard.

It’s frustrating, but at least he’s giving me something other than anger and stonewalling.

“Like you said—I have a lifetime of practice,” he replies. “You have less than two weeks of it. And since we’re stuck working together for the foreseeable future, I’m going to mold you into the best asset possible.”

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