It’s powerful, painful, so overwhelming that I nearly break away from her—until I realize that she needs me. That the energy is too much for her to contain on her own and she’s funneling it through me, through my gargoyle, because I can absorb it, the power of the magic sliding through me but not hurting me at all.

So I hold tight to her hand, let her funnel everything that she needs to straight into me. And when a second blast of lightning cracks across the sky, I don’t so much as flinch, even when it links up with the first.

Seconds pass, filled with incredible, unbelievable power, and then there’s another giant flash. This one lights up the entire sky, spreads over the water, over the clearing, over us, until there is no more crater.

Until there is no more rock.

Until there is no more us, only the light and energy and air that we’ve become.

105

Fall from Grace

We hit the ground screaming, every single one of us, as the light molecules we traveled on band together to re-form our bodies. It’s painful and weird and a little bit terrifying, but it takes only a few seconds, and then I’m struggling to absorb the pain and get my breath back.

“What time is it?” I demand as I stagger to my feet and look around at my friends, all of whom are still curled up and moaning on the snow. I reach for my phone, but it’s dead. I throw it and scream, “What time is it, goddammit?”

Rosy streaks of dawn are starting to work their way across the sky, and panic is a living, breathing animal within me. I didn’t come this far just to fail because we’re too late. We can’t be too late.

Please God, we can’t be too late.

“It’s six fifty,” Flint groans as he rolls over, his phone clutched in his hand.

“Six fifty,” I whisper. I’d checked sunrise before we left, and we still have time. “True sunrise is at eight twenty. We have an hour and a half.”

I look at Jaxon and the others, all of whom continue to lie on the snow despite my announcement. None of whom seems to understand the sudden urgency we’re facing. “We have ninety minutes!” I yell as I look around, trying to figure out exactly where on the Katmere grounds we are.

Macy pushes herself to her feet, and she looks as bad as I feel. Maybe worse. “Okay, okay, okay.” She glances around, too, rubs a hand over her face. “The amphitheater is that way. We just need to get out of these trees.”

“Come on,” I say, pulling at Jaxon, who definitely isn’t looking very good right now. Then again, I’m pretty sure the same can be said about me.

Flint rolls to his feet and helps me get Jaxon on his, but now that it’s not as dark as at the gargoyle’s cave, I can see just how bad his leg is. “You can’t walk any farther on that,” I tell him. “You have to stay here, and we’ll send help.”

“I’ll stay with him,” Eden says. “Him and Xavier.”

But as soon as she says that, I look around for Xavier’s body and realize he’s not here. “We left him,” I whisper in horror. “We left him there on the beach.”

“No,” Macy says. “No, we didn’t.”

“He’s not here,” Eden says, running for the closest trees. “Where is he? Oh my God, where is he?”

“He’s light,” Macy says, and her voice is thick with tears as she looks up at the ever-lightening sky. “We’re still alive, so we could re-form back into our bodies. He wasn’t, so my life-force magic couldn’t work on him. He’s gone.” She starts to cry. “He’s really gone.”

I want to cry with her, want nothing more than to sit my weary, aching body down on this snow and sob like a child as guilt racks me. But I can’t do that. We can’t do that, not yet. Not when we have to be inside the arena in ninety minutes.

“I’m sorry, but we have to go,” I tell Macy. “I can’t do this on my own. I need you to come with me.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” She dashes her hands across her cheeks to dry her tears. “Let’s go, let’s go.”

“I’m sorry, Macy.” Jaxon’s voice is low and hoarse with pain.

My cousin just nods. I mean, what else is there to actually say?

Eden and Flint wish us luck as we take off across the snow, stumbling a little under the weight of tiredness and injuries. But at least Macy’s right. Once we break through the forest of trees we landed in, the arena looms huge over the landscape.

I glance at Jaxon’s phone. We have eighty-five minutes to get inside. That doesn’t leave much time for us to rest once we get settled by the field, but it’s enough. That’s all that matters.

“Go straight through there,” Macy tells us, pointing to the closest entrance. “I’m going to find help, see if I can get Marise or someone to come out with me to try to help Flint. I’ll also grab some blood for Jaxon and get to the arena as soon as I possibly can.”

I don’t have the energy to answer her, so I just nod as I continue to trudge across the snow, Jaxon’s arm draped over my shoulders so I can support some of his weight. I’m tired, so tired, and every single bone in my body hurts.

I just want to sit down. I just want to go home. I just want to be anywhere but here.

“Hey,” Hudson says, and his voice is nearly as hoarse as Jaxon’s and mine. Then again, he did do a lot of shouting there in the cave. “You’ve got this. It’s just a little farther, and then you can sit for a few minutes and just breathe, right? You and Jaxon can get your second winds.”

“Pretty sure you mean our fourth winds,” I comment, but I take a deep breath and tell myself that he’s right. That we can do this. It’s only for a little while and then it’s over. I can do anything for a little while. Even pretend that I’m not racked with guilt over Xavier’s death.

But as we start down the final hill between the arena and us, Jaxon tells me, “We need to come up with a better plan for what we’re going to do in there.”

I glance his way. “I don’t know that we can. Yes, we planned on using a lot of the portals, but you’re probably not in good enough shape for it. The one I did during the game took a lot out of me.”

He nods. “You know, I hadn’t really talked to you about what I planned on doing in the Trial, but I was going to try to get it all the way down the field in one turn. Nuri held the comet for nearly five minutes. I figured I could do close to that, and then you wouldn’t have to worry—”

“My pretty little head?” I ask as shock and outrage rip through me.

“What?” he asks, looking confused.

“You don’t want me to have to worry my pretty little head about anything as strenuous as actually participating in the Trial that I called for?”

“Uh-oh,” Hudson says faintly in the back of my head, but I’m not paying attention to him right now.

“That’s not what I said.” Jaxon eyes me warily.

“Maybe not, but it’s what you meant, right? What did you think was going to happen in that arena, Jaxon? Did you think I was just going to sit back and let you do your thing while I just hung out and cheered? I mean, should I have brought pom-poms?”

“Hey! That’s my line!” Hudson complains, but there’s a little bit of glee in his voice when he says it.

“I didn’t mean it the way you’re taking it,” Jaxon says, and he sounds pissed for the first time.

“Okay, that’s fair.” I stop hobbling forward and just wait. “How did you mean it?”

“Really?” he asks, and the wariness is more pronounced now.

“Absolutely,” I tell him. “If I took it wrong, then I’m sorry. But I would like to know what you meant.”

He sighs, runs a shaky hand through his hair. “All I meant was I’m trying to take care of you, Grace. I’m stronger than you and I can do more, so let me do more. There’s nothing wrong with me taking care of my girlfriend.”

“You mean your human girlfriend, don’t you?” I ask, eyebrow raised.

“Maybe I did. What’s wrong with that?” He throws his free hand up. “What’s wrong with me wanting to take care of you?”

“Nothing,” I answer. “Except with you it’s a sickness. And I think it’s a symptom of something a lot more problematic in our relationship.”

“Problematic?” Now he looks more than just a little bit pissed. “What does that mean?”

“It means you think I’m weaker than you and that means you have to—”

“You are weaker than me!” he roars, cutting me off. “It’s a fact.”

“Oh, really?” I shrug his arm off, step away, and he almost falls flat on his ass. “Because right now it looks like you need me a lot more than I need you.”

His eyes turn to pure, flat black. “Are you making fun of me for being exhausted after everything I just did in that cave?”

I take a deep breath and force myself not to yell at him even though I really, really want to right now. Because Jaxon just isn’t getting it. For the first time, I’m a little afraid, because maybe he can’t get it. Maybe he’ll never get it. And then what will we do?

“No, I’m making fun of you because you don’t seem to understand that we need to take care of each other,” I tell him, backing up a few feet because I just can’t be near him right now. “That sometimes I need help—”

“I know that—”

“Oh, I know you know that. You’re super impressive at reminding me of all the things I can’t do, of all the ways I’m weaker than you.” I pause, my voice breaking. “Of all the ways my opinion doesn’t matter to you.”

“I’ve never said that.” Jaxon staggers a little bit as he tries to close the distance between us. “You know I ask your opinion all the time.”