CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

“Carajo!” The word punches out of me as we hit the ground. Sturrm takes most of the impact—his shoulder lights up in my mind like a miniature, angry sun of pulsing red.

But I don’t heal him. I can’t.

My magic is going wild, filling me with a sizzling power that burns through me in the brightest yellow. It’s constant and ongoing, leaving no energy for anything else. I suck in a deep breath, full of the sweet orange smoke, and my magic flares brighter, even as my sight dims around the edges.

Dios mio! What is this stuff? Is this the deathsleep they told me about? Is it trying to poison me, to put me under its spell? Mierda. It’s not as if I can stop breathing!

Don’t be stupid, Selena, my analytical voice says. Yes, you have to breathe, but you don’t have to breathe this .

Wiggling, I squirm forward, fighting my way out of Sturrm’s arms, which still hold me close, protecting me as we fell. It was amazing and sweet at the time, but it’s a real pain in the ass now. I shove at the arm on top of me, and I move instead of him. Carajo, is he made of cinderblocks?

I take another breath—I can’t help it—and my magic flares, fighting off the poison. As soon as I can move again, I curl my knees and place my feet on his thighs and shove like the leg press from hell, knowing from anatomy classes that my quadriceps and gluteus muscles are the strongest ones in my body. I slide up, and once I get the swell of my hips past his arms, I’m golden.

As soon as I’m free, I crawl forward as quickly as I can, my lungs burning, demanding another sip of air. But I hold out until I get out of the cloud, collapsing to the ground and heaving in great gulps of clean air.

I sit up, happy to see the cloud is already thinning as a brisk mountain breeze scatters it. As I catch my breath, the red sparkles within it fade. Dash and Sturrm become visible, both of their chests rising and falling in a way that eases the hard knot in my stomach.

“It’s just a coma,” I whisper. “There’s an antidote.” And even if there’s not, the fact that I can heal myself of whatever this is hopefully means I’ll be able to heal them of it, too. Just as soon as the air clears enough that my magic isn’t fighting to keep me awake, I can try.

A bird arrows across the sky, diving straight toward me. Its red beak opens in a loud shriek that shivers down my spine like nails on a chalkboard. Malevolent red eyes glare at me with far more intelligence than any bird should have. This must be one of the evil fae they told me about, the ones with the weird name I can’t remember. But their other name comes to me with an icy jolt of dread—soul stealers.

Its beak jabs into my arm, and pain flares.

“Mierda!” I slap my hand over the wound, but a flare of magic zips through me, healing the physical injury. But I feel just a bit funny… I shake my head. Something’s off. What was it Dash and Sturrm told me? That each time this bird pecks me, it will literally steal part of my soul. Get hit enough times, and I’ll die. I might have a scientific mind, but I don’t want to test if my magic can counter this. I already have a feeling soul healing is beyond even my magic’s awesome abilities.

I jump up and wave my arms around wildly.

More shrieks from above.

I look up. “Carajo!” There’s not one bird—there’s a whole flock of these pendejos! And they’re getting ready to attack Sturrm and Dash, where they lie helpless.

The orange cloud has thinned to wisps. If I hold my breath through that last bit, I should be able to get to Sturrm without needing my magic to heal me, which means I’ll have enough power to heal him. If anyone knows what to do against the soul stealers, it’s Sturrm .

I gulp in several big breaths of air and hold the last one. Charging forward, I throw myself across Sturrm’s still form. My magic flares as soon as we touch, sensing what’s wrong with him. I shove my power into him, the pressure in my lungs growing.

Come on, come on, come on!

Dios mio, I know Sturrm’s huge, but this is ridiculous! There’s just so much of him to burn the poison from.

Finally, right as my lungs start to ache, he stirs. His eyes snap open, finding mine.

I let out an oxygen-depleted breath to say, “Hurry. Get us out of the cloud.”

Wasting no time on questions or doubts, he immediately does what I say. Holding me to him, he leaps to his feet and runs.

A bird dives, and my back explodes with pain. My magic flickers, shifting focus from Sturrm to me.

No! my mind wails. He’s the important one! But my power doesn’t listen, and I’m still too new to all of this to make it do so.

Sturrm’s next step stumbles, and he slows, trying to compensate.

Him, him, him, I chant to my magic. If you want to save me, you have to keep healing him .

But it doesn’t listen.

Sturrm’s next step brings him to his knees as another bird strikes my back in a flare of pain.