Nick climbs back down to where we are. “Poisonous?” He pinches the snake between his index finger and thumb. “Good thing you killed it, Casper. I’ve never seen a snake like this before. How do you know it’s poisonous?”
“It’s—” I hesitate.
“Instinct,” both of them grunt in unison.
“Yeah. Bright-colored creatures in Faerie are never harmless.”
I carry Max off the unstable rocks, my boots slipping over a treacherous mix of pebbles, wet leaves, and grimy moss that refuse to hold underfoot. I head toward a shallow nook beneath a towering pine, where exposed roots claw out of the slope and knot together to form a rough, natural cradle. The ground there softens into a thick bed of needles.
I lower my little fox carefully, easing her down into the hollow between the roots.
She mumbles a curse through tight lips and finally cries out. “Fucking hells! What do they put in those fangs?”
I kneel in front of her. “Let me see.”
“Ow, careful,” she snaps.
Nick drops beside me, already reaching for her pant leg. He peels the fabric up, exposing the bite just above the cuff of her boot—two punctures, dark with blood.
I brush the blood away from the bite, trying to get a clearer look. A nasty swelling is already spreading from the bite in a purplish-red circle.
“Should we try to suck the venom out?” Nick asks.
“No. That’s a myth. Venom works too fast for that to be useful,” Max explains.
Lady shifts in the sling, rolling and hissing over Max’s chest, and I pry the pet carrier off of her.
“What’s wrong, little Lady?” I ask the cat.
I’ve never seen her this agitated, raising all hells and in danger of tumbling down the cliffs if she keeps it up. I pass the carrier to Nick.
“What’s wrong with her? She didn’t get bitten, right?” he asks.
I shake my head. “No way.”
“Ahhh.” Max draws a sharp intake of air. A thick sheen of sweat gathers on her neck, forehead, and cheeks, her skin a shade paler than it was a minute ago.
My heart screeches to a halt when her head lolls to the side.
“Hey, Max. Are you still with us?” Nick rushes out.
She nods weakly. “Water.”
He brings his water bottle to her lips, and she tries to take a sip but chokes, the water spraying everywhere.
I grip her hand and squeeze. “Take it easy.”
Nick unpacks his bag and rummages for Mabel’s grimoires. “There should be something in here about snakes. I’m sure I flipped through a chapter on the local fauna last night.”
A spasm thunders through Max’s limbs before flames lick up the sleeve of her jacket. Her fire sparks again and again—wild, uncontrolled—bleeding out of her skin in brief flashes, like her magic is misfiring beneath the surface.
“Fuck!” I shout.
“So hot— I’m too hot.” She moves frantically, trying to remove her clothes.
“Easy, easy—” I wrap my hands around her upper arms, forcing her to stay still as the tremors keep coming. “You’re alright. I’ve got you.”
“What’s happening?” Nick demands, glancing up from the grimoire.
