Free Storm Clouds: Dragon's Fate, Book 3 by Lacy Danes

easy. “To create a breeze. You only need air. This place is filled with air.”
    “True. But when using your powers, until you know them well, after one element of a storm comes another. From your try last night, you channel a lot of light into all you do. So Vi bliver bundet til han løslader dig.”
    “You said that last night.”
    “Correct. It means we are bound together.”
    “The last bit says until he releases me… Who is he?” She pushed to standing.
    “The bind made you read with haste. I should have known.” He stood. “Luftslag. Magten kommer til os. Køl dette sted.” Walking behind her, he placed his fingers on her elbows. “Your power comes from your hands. Let me help you control them…”
    “I’m not certain. You just said air battles. Power come to us. Cool this place. What are air battles?”
    “Trust. It is just as important in our bond as it is in your family. Say the words.” He tightened his grip on her elbows, and the joints heated. “Say them.”
    “Luftslag. Magten kommer til os. Køl dette sted.” Energy whipped through her, up to her head. Pain spiked through her temples, and light opened in the ceiling, shining on the small box.
    Below, people screeched. She stared over the rail to the open space below. Hudson walked down the center aisle. Her throat closed. What was he doing with a torch in his hands?
    His eyes were black, and his skin held the tone of the dead. He was possessed. Even from this distance she could see that.
    The wind blew hard and circled in the small space, creating a buffer between them and the world of horror that unfolded before her.
    The flame flickered in Hudson’s hands, and ember spilled onto an elderly woman’s skirts. The light in the box ceiling cracked down to her hands and formed the ball of light that her power created. Marcus’s fingernails dug into her elbows “Belysning at flame.” His body jerked.
    Light spun out from the ball in threads to the theater ceiling. It disappeared into the wood and ornate plaster. Astrid screeched and struggled to pull free from Marcus’s hold. He held fast and wrapped his right leg about her thigh, pulling her body back full against him.
    A loud crack came from above her, and the scent of lilacs drifted by in the wind. Ilmir. No. She had smelled that same scent earlier, and he was not here.
    People ran from below.
    The ceiling glowed and then expanded in a red and yellow fractured bubble, then retracted and burst into flames.
    Screams came from all around. Free from Marcus’s grip, she spun, and Marcus was gone. Flames jumped and ran along the theater walls to the floor. The ornate green-and-gold wall coverings glimmered red like blood. She needed to do something. She couldn’t just let people die. She needed to create rain. “Regne.”
    She had no water. No oil. She had no way to make it rain. Panic closed off her throat, and she gulped for air. Where were Celeste and Jordan?
    “Jordan! Jordan! Jordan!” she screamed. They were water.
    He was nowhere, and the smoke grew thick. Her eyes burned, as did her throat. She coughed and coughed more. She needed to leave. If she could find Jordan outside, she could change this.
    She turned and ran out of the box. People pushed and shoved in the small hall and all the way down the steps. Coughing and screams, mixed with the snapping of wood breaking, consumed the theater. She made her way to the entrance hall. An eerie roar came from above. She stared up at the ceiling. Pieces of the wood and plaster crumbled, tumbling to the polished black floor. She stood frozen. She’d caused this. How…?
    People ran past and out of the theater until she stood alone.
    More pieces crashed to the floor around her.
    The shine on the floor reflected the glow from the ceiling above, and in the reflection, a ghost of a skeleton drifted in the smoke. The jaw opened and closed. “Thank you. Without you, several promises that were broken would have gone unfulfilled. Now I have