Fireater
    
Ariana looked at her fingers and sighed. She sucked in her breath and tried to concentrate on pushing out some fire, but the turbulent chopping of the helicopter prevented her from fully concentrating, not that she could do it with six hours’ worth of meditation in the meditation room. If I can’t fireat and I can’t succeed on this mission, what can I do? she thought. Ariana shuddered at what FIRE (Fireaters in the Republic of Enoch) would do to “dud” fireaters, fireaters with no magic. Executed . . .

But now she had to concentrate on the mission: are firebirds extinct?
    
Tramping through the jungle, Ariana wished that she could fireat, so that she would be able to clear a path through seven hours’ worth of misery. Suddenly she tripped on a vine and landed hard on the damp ground. She groaned as she sat up. Then her eyes fell on an iridescent semisphere hanging from a tree. Ariana inhaled sharply.

There was a beautiful bird lying dead in front of her, its wings and beautiful feathers muddy and dull. There was only one thought in her mind: Get to the eggs. Petite Ariana stood on tiptoe to reach the first branch: Get to the eggs. She swung her legs up to the next branch, her scarf flipping over her face. She shook the scarf off.

She grabbed the nest, jumped, and landed heavily on the ground. She had to keep the eggs warm! Frantically, Ariana tried to fireat. A small flame sparked from the tips of her fingers. She rolled the eggs into it. One rolled over on its side and cracked. A bright red firebird tumbled out. Ariana named it Dawn, because she was the dawn of a new life for Ariana.

Back on the helicopter, Ariana smiled. She’d found her talent—and her first friend!