I raise my arms and stare at my palms. Nothing has changed, but I remember what I did in the car very well. I may have killed Donatello. I made the sunlight pour in. I burned him. For all I know, I may have killed the only two people who ever cared about me in life. All because I lost control over this power.
Shit. Shit shit shit. This entire thing is my fault. How the fuck did I go from being an ordinary girl, lying low and living my life just fine, to being completely unable to have a peaceful night?
And what the fuck is this power?
Slowly, I sit up. I remember a headache blooming on my forehead when it happened, but it has disappeared. With all the other pains in my body, it means nothing. I raise an arm, then the other. Both seem fine, even if cut and sore. Digging my fingers into my hair and soaring them over my face, I search for wounds. I find wetness on the top of my head, and my fingers come back painted red. I grind my teeth and swallow. Good. Great, Cassandra, you hit your head on the way down the ravine, and now there’s no one to help. Wait. Donatello and Apollo might be dead on the side of the road because of me, and I’m worried about a measly head wound? Fuck off, Cassandra. Get to your feet and find those men.
Easier said than done because my left ankle throbs. It swells so fast my boot grows tight, and I have to bend over my legs to untie the laces, giving my ankle some space. Fucking weird powers. Why couldn’t they be something simple, like air or fire?
Well, it wouldn’t have been much better to have set fire to the car. The problem is not the powers but me. Magic is dangerous and problematic, no matter what kind.
Bracing a hand on the nearest tree, I get to my foot — just the right one since the left can’t take my weight. I search around myself, trying to pinpoint the way I came from. This girl is no ranger, but I had expected to see some kind of trail of flattened plants showing where I rolled down the ravine. I limp around for a moment, searching for it, but it’s useless. The ravine is steep and long here, and if there’s something in life I’m sure of, it’s that I can’t climb it.
I squint and try to see the road, but I’m too far from it. Besides, I may have rolled someplace farther from it. I should sit tight and wait for rescue, but I’m terrified the rescue needs rescuing. What if Donatello’s still in the sun or near it? I know he can heal fast if I take into consideration his fellow taking a bullet to the head, but the sun? That’s death for him. His screams are still etched in my brain. And something tells me Apollo wouldn’t go the distance to save Donatello.
Apollo. I don’t know if shifters can heal and how fast they do that. If he flew through the window like me, he might be even more wounded.
I have to find them.
Aware of how pathetic I look, I brace myself against the tree next to me and hop. For the merest second, I put my left foot down to try it, and the pain that flares up is so intense I cry out. And I’m not a girl for crying when I get hurt. This one just took me by surprise.
I hop, then hop some more, and I slowly, staggeringly slowly, make my way from the spot I landed in. The ravine doesn’t seem to change, but I can only hope it gets shallower at some point. If the steepness eases up, I can crawl up to the road. Donatello and Apollo’s safety is more important than my dignity.
After what feels like two hours, I’m too out of breath to continue. Wow, hopping is tiresome. I hug a tree, then use it to slide down until I’m sitting with my back to it. I catch my breath and let my eyes wander.
When my gasping breaths aren’t so loud, I hear nothing else, the chittering of birds reaches me. Tall trees create deep shadows around me, even if the sun slips through here and there. Thick underbrush makes it cushy to sit, and I close my eyes for a moment, drinking in the shade and the breeze.
The shade. I remember how the shadows of the car seemed to move closer, to race to my fingers when I focused on my power. The icy trickle in my veins was like standing under a cool shade on a hot day. I wonder if that’s my power, shade, though I’ve never heard of anything like it. Maybe a sub-category? I’ve heard of that. Earth mages, and then the sub-category of metal mages. That could be it.
Pressing both my hands to the underbrush, I call on that feeling. There’s no one here for me to hurt, and I need to get this thing under control. I focus on the cold trickling in my veins, then allow it to take over. Just like in the car, it happens slowly, and a headache blooms in my forehead.
Then it bursts out of me, and I can’t pull it back in. I grind my teeth and force it back, then I snap my eyelids open and see the shadows around rushing to me until there’s only daylight. The power snaps from me like a taut band, but the shadows don’t return to their original spots. I sit against the tree in a circle of sunlight.
What the fuck is this?
My forehead pulses with pain. It’s the only thing I feel now, and I press my fingers to my temples, hoping it will leave. Wait. It’s the only pain I feel. Reaching out, I touch around my hair, looking for the wound, but the blood that stains my fingers is already drying. The cuts down my arms are pink scratches now. I peek down at my foot.
It not only stopped swelling, but it also diminished. My hands trembling, I get to my feet, putting some weight on it. And I manage. It’s still swollen, and it still hurts, but nothing compared to moments ago.
Holy shit. Did I just heal myself? That’s super useful.
I look around me at the circle of sunlight. Super useful, but super creepy too. What am I supposed to do with this? Are the shadows coming back? Or did I gobble them up forever? My shoulders droop. I have no idea how to deal with this power. I can only hope my mother has some answers.
Something moves in the underbrush right behind me. I’m still catching my breath, surprised as fuck with what I just did when a low, gruff roar reaches my ears. I whirl around, fast. My heart skips a beat even before my gaze lands on the wolf, teeth bared, head lowered, ready to pounce. Ready to pounce on me.
CHAPTER19
CASSANDRA
Of course, as soon as I had my first lucky strike, something like this would happen. I don’t know why I’m surprised. My jaw drops, and I stumble back. I’ve never seen a live wolf before, and I would have spent my entire life without seeing one, gladly. They’re huge, wow. I thought they were more like Huskies, but nope. This one is gigantic, like those Dire wolves in Game of Thrones. Pretty sure it could eat my head and use my fingers as toothpicks.
The wolf steps closer, eyes pinpointed on me as he roars. My heart leaps to my throat. I take another step back, and my ankle hooks with a root, so I try to use my other foot for balance and... It doesn’t quite work. My left foot isn’t a hundred percent just yet, and this is the perfect moment for it to tell me.
My foot gives way under me, and I fall back, the underbrush working as a rebound. I oof, but the pain doesn’t matter, not when I’m about to be fucking eaten. My eyes go round, and I skitter away, my back slamming to a tree. I search for something, anything to defend myself with. My fingers close around a branch, and I pull it up. I need to get to my feet.
“Fuck off!” I roar back, trying to sound brave. Congratulations, me: my voice doesn’t tremble on the way out. I swing the branch, then brace a hand on the tree behind me to get to my feet. “Give me a fucking break.”
The wolf stops, and its ears twitch. The golden and brown fur is beautiful, catching the sunlight streaming from above thanks to me. The animal seems almost curious as to why the hell I am swinging a branch at it. It watches and watches, cocking its head as I swing like I’m in a horror movie.