"You know," she said, "they're going to call us Lava Boy and Water Girl."

He cracked a spark-filled grin. "Better than being alone."

"I still don't like getting wet," Cinder said, his arm now covered in a thin, safe layer of cool stone—a gift from Aquaria's touch.

Cinder and Aquaria stood on a new island in the center, where fire and water swirled together without destroying each other.

"You will," she said, "or we'll both drown in this stupid puddle."

One night, the sky cracked open. The Veil—a shimmering barrier of steam and obsidian that separated their worlds—began to crumble. From the rift fell a single seed: the Heartstone, glowing with green light. If planted in the right place, it could heal the world. If ignored, the rift would grow until both realms burned or drowned.

"I don't do 'together,'" he grumbled, though his lava flickered with embarrassment.