“We showed you ours, Twink. Let’s see yours.”
“See mywhat, exactly?”
The river is just a few feet behind us, and now Carly lifts an elegant hand, making a jet of water jump and swirl into a graceful arch over the crowd.
The few remaining revelers paying her any mind cheer and clap, shouting slurred praises.
Emory’s still levitating, and now she bends herself into a yoga pose midair, the students laughing and trying unsuccessfully to knock her off balance.
Blue goes for her fire magick again, this time forming a ball of it between her palms, then throwing it up in the air. It explodes in a starburst, raining down around her in a show of beautiful sparks.
“Sorry to disappoint,” I say, because there’s no point in lying in a situation like this. “But I can’t compete with any of that. I’m still figuring out where my on button is.”
A few people laugh, and for a minute, I actually believe Carly and her band of bobbleheads will drop it and go back to their own magickal mutual circle jerk.
But then a shadow falls over my face, and Emory—still levitating—casts a mean glare from above. “Maybe we can help you find it.”
“Hard pass,” I say. “But if I ever need help, I’ll know just who to call.”
She floats down and lands on her feet before me, an elegant dark-haired swan, and the rest of the Claires close ranks around me, including Amelia.
The Eight of Swords drifts into my mind, and fear prickles across my skin, settling in my belly like ice.
My eyes dart around for an escape, but before I can make a move or even call for help, Carly and Blue grab me by the arms and drag me over to the river. Somebody—Emory? Amelia?—kicks the backs of my knees, and I go down hard.
Everything after that happens in a blur.
I can hear the water rushing behind my head, the air cooler down here, even as the fire crackles and pops in front of us. The music is still going, and a few people gather at my feet, some laughing, some taking photos, most everyone drunk and babbling. They don’t know this is real. That I’m in danger.
Someone’s pushing against my shoulders, tipping me backward…
Someone’s sitting on my legs, telling me not to squirm…
“Don’t touch me!” I shout. “Let me go! Don’t fucking touch me!”
They’re laughing and I can’t kick out, can’t move my arms, the water sucking at my hair…
“Let’s see if we can activate your water magick, you spirit-blessed bitch,” Blue says. Here in the darkness, the fire raging behind her, she looks like a demon. “If that doesn’t work, next we’ll try fire.”
Where is everyone? Why is no one helping?
“Guys,” someone says, her voice small and weak. A flash of curly red hair before my eyes, and I know it must be Amelia. “Maybe we should stop.”
“Quit fucking around,” Carly says, but she’s yelling at Amelia, not Blue, and Blue’s got malice in her eyes, violence on her breath.
“Help,” I sputter and gasp, but Amelia looks behind her, then back to Carly, as if she’s waiting for permission to do the right thing.
The water soaks my hair, my shoulders, and Blue pushes harder, impossibly strong. Soon the water’s slipping across my chest, icy cold, sucking me down, and suddenly I’m back in that canyon four years ago…
Don’t leave me! Don’t go!
My whole body trembles, and I cough and spit out water, struggling against Blue’s terrible hold, but there are too many hands now, too many angry faces swirling before me, too much laughter, too many camera flashes and the water’s coming and I can’t breathe and I can’t…
White flame explodes from my chest, and the witches holding me down scatter like mice. There’s a scream, and suddenly I’m on my feet, my arms spread wide, my hair on fire with magick. It sings through my blood, through my very soul. My owl’s wings stretch across the span, and when I flap, it calls forth the wind and smolders the fire.
I let out a howl, a yell, a primal scream from the depths of my darkness.
The party falls silent.
