I had never purposelessly summoned the deathbirds before. Twice they had come, summoned by my raging emotions, reeled in by my fear and their connection to me. Twice they had spoken through the connection. But there had never been a time when I'd spoken back.

"This might not work," I told Lark and Reed.

"We know," said Reed.

Lark grinned at me. "You've already said so four times. Why don't you just go for it? If it doesn't work... well, then, it doesn't work."

"I don't want to fail," I said. "I'm a part of this team. If I can't control my powers, I won't be able to pull my weight."

"There's nothing wrong with failure." She shrugged. "We'll be on the road for weeks; it's not like you won't have time to practice."

"But..." I hesitated, afraid to say the words out loud. "What if I can't do it?"

Reed's voice was firm, his smile nonexistent, but I saw a hint of kindness in his eyes. "Then we'll find another way. You're not the only one here with powers."

"Just go for it," Lark said. "No sense in dilly-dallying. It'll only give you more time to get in your own head about it."

"Okay."

I closed my eyes and tried to summon some level of fear, or whatever emotion had activated my powers before. I reached out with my mind as best I knew how. But nothing changed. No feathered consciousness brushed up against my own. I was alone and empty, my powers still stubbornly refusing to do a thing.

Aloud, I said, "It's not working, and I don't know how to fix it."

"I'll get my violin," said Lark. "Maybe I can use my magic to nudge yours awake."

The grass rustled as she stepped away.

"How are you calling to them?"

Bran's voice. From the sound of it, he was standing directly in front of me.

My eyes popped open, and I glared at him. "Why do you care?"

"Just tell me how you're doing it," he said.

"I'm trying to use my emotions. That's how it's always worked before. I'm scared or angry—usually thanks to you—and my magic sends out some sort of distress call."

"But you're not actually angry or scared right now."

"Not yet," I growled, "but if you keep talking, I might be."

He took a surreptitious step backward. "Hear me out. You're perfectly fine. You're not injured or scared. Instead of trying to scream for help, why don't you slowly cast your senses out and try to start a conversation?"

"A conversation? With birds?"

"How have you contacted them before?"

I frowned. "Fair point."

"So you'll try it?"

I closed my eyes. "Fine."

"You could try laying down," said Bran, "so all your concentration is centered on contacting the birds."

"Shut up."

"Okay."

A half-smile curled my lips at the small victory.

I slowly tried to push my awareness out from myself, searching for my birds, trying to send them a package of warm, welcoming emotions. My surroundings felt empty, or... almost so. There was a consciousness just beyond my grasp. I could already feel it fading, along with my strength. The magic was taking a toll.

Something hot flared at my forehead. An untapped area of power began to burn there, and without hesitation, I pulled at it. My senses burst outwards. Two birds appeared in my mental sights, and I sent them a wordless greeting. They began to flap toward me...

...and with a snap, my magic pulled back. The spot on my forehead grew cold. I opened my eyes.

Bran stood in front of me, swaying back and forth as though about to fall asleep on his feet. Reed quickly ducked under his arm and steadied him.

Lark's eyes were wide, her violin dangling, forgotten, from her left hand. "What just happened?"

"It worked," I said. "My magic worked!" Confusion flooded my mind. "What happened to Bran?"

"He reached out and touched you," said Lark. "You smiled. And then he almost fell over."

"He touched me?" I turned to Bran. "Why? Where?"

"On the forehead," he wheezed. "I don't know... it made sense. Now I wish I hadn't."

A soft flap of wings sounded behind me, and I turned around to see two of my deathbirds land. One of them let out a soft gurgling noise. It tilted its head to the side. I stepped forward and returned the greeting, gently running my hand across its feathers.

What is needed?

The voice was feather-soft in my head.

I smiled. We need to find a new village.

You need a place to sleep? You can nest with us.

No. We need a village.

The bird considered for a moment. We will find one for you.

The two of them squawked farewell and flew away.

"What's going on?" Reed asked. "Did you talk to them? Will they help us?"

"Yes."

"Good," said Bran. "I'd hate to have gone through that for nothing."

"Gone through what?" Lark asked. She'd put away her violin while I'd been talking with the birds, and now she sat on the grass beside Reed and Bran. "I think the two of you owe us an explanation."

Bran shook his head. "I don't know what happened. It felt like a reflex."

"You gave me magic," I said. "I felt it."

"How could he give you magic?" Reed squinted at me warily. "I thought we'd decided that Bran wasn't a Blessed."

"Except for the fact that I am one," said Bran. "I just don't know what my Blessing is."

"Maybe you can give power," I said. "Think about it. I've only ever managed to use my powers when I've been near you."

"Great," Bran sighed. "I've been trying to figure out what I can do for years, and now it turns out I'm only helpful if there's another Blessed around?"

"So it would seem."

"Does this at least mean you'll let me come with you?"

Lark shook her head. "I don't think you should. You'll still be in danger, and you won't be able to protect yourself."

"But he could be useful," I pointed out. "If he built up his stamina, he could be like an extra power reserve for us."

"Useful?" said Bran. "You flatter me."

Lark crossed her arms. "We shouldn't bring him with us only because he's useful. It's not right."

"Would you let me come if I wasn't useful?" I asked.

Reed turned to Bran, his gaze careful and calculating. "Are you sure this is the only power you have?"

"No. I'm not sure of anything. I didn't even realize I was a Blessed until yesterday."

"So you could have another power? One that doesn't depend on other Blesseds?"

"I don't know," said Bran. "Maybe."

Lark shot a glare at Reed. "Are we going to put his life in danger on a 'maybe?'"

"Think about it," Reed said. "He could be really powerful. Maybe he could make one of us strong enough to defeat the Magician."

Lark frowned as she chewed on that. Bran looked hopeful.

I shook my head slowly. "It's not up to us."

"What do you mean?" Reed asked.

"We know he's a Blessed now. So, he should be allowed to come with us. But we shouldn't force him to come with us—or to stay—just because we want him to." I turned to Bran, and maybe I was imagining it, but I thought I saw a flicker of thanks in his gaze. "It's your choice."

"Remember," said Lark, "if you come with us, you might die."

"And if you don't come with us," said Reed, "we might die."

"But at least you'll be alive," added Lark.

Bran smirked. "I'll keep that in mind. But I'm coming with you."

Bran has a power, apparently! You know what gives me power? Votes, votes, votes! Help me gather the strength to take over the world someday!