I hit the side of the mountain hard, the wind sucked out of my lungs like a vacuum. I felt a sharp twist of pain as my ankle buckled and snapped beneath me, and I went down.
I’d gone from calculated control to being completely helpless in the blink of an eye.
The sensation of falling: the fear, the elation.
The ground fell out from underneath me, and I dropped away. To someplace darker.
Chapter 12
Someone was saying my name. It sounded beautiful, like a song from somewhere otherworldly.
Had I died? Was I in heaven?
Was I someplace . . . else?
“Skye!”
My eyes shot open.
I was in a cave of some kind. As I sat up, slowly, with one hand out to steady myself, my surroundings came into focus. Wherever I was, it was dark, but a pale light shone through the seemingly translucent walls. Was I trapped under the snow? The walls around me shimmered and swayed slightly. What I was sure of, though, was the excruciating cold. The snow had soaked completely through the rip in my Gore-Tex gloves and through the fleece I wore underneath them.
Crouched on his knees in front of me was Asher.
“What are you doing here?” I forced out, my voice thick. My tongue felt like some kind of foreign object in my mouth.
“You’re awake!” He exhaled loudly, and relief shone in his eyes. He put his hand on my arm. “Are you okay? How do you feel?”
“My head . . .” I began, trying to cut through the fog pressing down on my brain. I realized that my ankle was throbbing in pain. “And my ankle. It’s twisted or broken or something.”
Asher furrowed his eyebrows, glancing down at it.
“Where are we?” I asked.
“I think we fell into some sort of snow cave.” Snow surrounded us, but we sat safely in the makeshift shelter.
“How did you . . . ?”
“I saw you falling, but I couldn’t reach you in time. You disappeared into the snow, so I jumped in after you.” Asher was feeling around my ankle with his hands. I winced, and he saw me. His face fell. “Sorry. I can’t . . .” He cleared his throat. “I don’t know how to fix it, Skye. I called for help while you were out.” His eyes flicked upward, presumably toward the outside world. I wondered what kind of cell reception we had down here. It’s not like I could climb out with a maybe-broken ankle. “I didn’t want to leave you here, alone,” he said, not meeting my eyes as he packed snow around my foot.
“It was weird.” I took a breath, grimacing as he steadied my ankle. “I was feeling this rush of power as I passed you. And it’s like—it’s almost as if the snow and ice started crumbling because of it. Because of how I felt. And then the more I started to panic, the more helpless I was . . . the harder it came.” I glanced up, afraid to meet his eyes. He was staring at me. Not in disbelief, exactly. More like he was contemplating something impossible. I hoped my eyes weren’t silver. I looked away. “It sounds crazy, I know.”
He didn’t say anything, and in the icy silence of the cave, I shivered. My fingers were beyond numb—they burned.
“Are you cold?” Asher asked quietly.
“Freezing.” I took off one Gore-Tex glove and poked a finger through the hole. Then I took off my fleece glove and held it up with a sad smile; it flopped over, soaking wet.
“Here.” He unzipped his black parka and wrapped it around me. I could feel the heat from his body still trapped inside as I drew it closer. It smelled earthy and warm.
“No,” I protested weakly. “You need it.”
“I naturally run hot,” he said with a grin. “I’ll be fine. How about you? Better?”
“Mmm. Thanks.” I drew my hands inside the sleeves. He was looking at me strangely.
“If I show you something, will you promise not to tell anyone?”
“Are you going to keep me entertained until we get rescued?”
“Something like that, but you have to promise.”
“Promise. Anything to distract me from the possibility of us dying.”
“You’re not going to die. I won’t let that happen.”
He sounded so certain, I could almost believe him. But I also wondered how anyone would ever find us before we became human popsicles.
He moved around so that he was sitting behind me. I could feel his chest against my back, his breath trace across my neck. I tried in vain to keep my own breathing steady, but the combination of the pain, the cold, and being so close to Asher made it come unevenly, shallow.
Asher reached both arms around me. “Take your hands out of the sleeves,” he murmured. I did, slowly—and he took both of my hands in his and brought them in close. He cupped them together, our palms facing upward. “Okay,” he whispered into my hair. “Don’t freak out.”
I stared at our hands, resting on top of each other. How could I possibly feel more freaked out than I already was?
And then.
A small flame bloomed between my palms. It didn’t hurt—all I could feel was a gentle warmth as the flames licked my fingers, circulation returning to them. The whole snow cave filled with a soft orange glow, firelight flickering shadows on the walls like they were telling a story.
I was holding fire in the palm of my hand.
“Asher?” My voice was getting higher, my heart beating much too fast. “How are you doing this?”
“If I told you, it would ruin the fun,” he said, and even though he was behind me, I could tell he was smiling. “A magician never gives away his secrets.”
“What is it with you and secrets?”
The flame flickered in my hand, and then flared up, toward the ceiling. When it died out, a circle of snow had melted, exposing the sky above.
“Whoa.” Asher whistled softly to himself. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.” He pulled away, inching around so that he was facing me again. His eyebrows were scrunched together in confusion. “I’m usually better at controlling that. I don’t know why . . .” He looked at me. He put his hand on my cheek. His fingers were still warm, and my shivering quieted.
“Look,” he said. “About last night.”
I sighed. “I really don’t want to talk about it.”
“No, listen. You were right—I have been trying to get your attention. But not for the reason you think.”
“Okay,” I said dubiously. “Then why?”
He smiled warmly, running his thumb softly over my cheekbone.
“Skye,” he murmured. “It’s . . . complicated.”
“I don’t understand,” I said, the words sounding stuck in my throat. I was vaguely aware that he’d used this line before, but I was slipping off into sleep and couldn’t focus.
“Listen, we don’t have to decide the fate of the world right this minute.” He cupped his hand under my head as it came to rest against his shoulder. “Skye, can you stay awake for me? Talk to me. Keep yourself talking.”
“What should I say?” I was so drowsy.
“Say anything. Say what you’re thinking about right now.”
I don’t know why I was thinking about this, but the words came tumbling out of my mouth before I had a chance to second-guess myself. “My parents died,” I said hazily, the fog wrapping itself around my head again. “In a car accident. When I was six.” I yawned.
“I’m sorry,” Asher said softly, positioning himself next to me. I felt him take my hand in his. It was warm. I moved myself so that I was leaning against him, burying my head in his warmth. I could feel his breath rising and falling.
“I don’t really remember the accident very well. I don’t know why I survived and they didn’t.” It felt good to talk about it. I never talked about that with anyone. “I could have died.” I didn’t like the way it sounded out loud.
He brushed the hair away from my face. “But you didn’t. Don’t worry, okay? Help will come.”
I could feel myself growing heavier, the world darker again. I almost thought I could feel the feathery touch of his lips on my forehea
d.
Almost.
Chapter 13
I opened my eyes again in a much different kind of place.
The walls were just walls, about as opaque as walls can get, and I was toasty warm beneath the wool camp-style blanket draped over me. I wore flannel pajamas that I didn’t recognize, and I was lying on my back in a narrow bed. I was, it appeared, in the ski lodge infirmary. A place noticeably lacking in magic. On the ceiling above me, the various cracks and watermarks had been whitewashed over not very adeptly with a coat of paint. I felt okay—much better than earlier—except for the shooting pain in my ankle.
Had I really just been trapped in a makeshift snow cave with Asher? And had he really created . . . fire? Out of thin air? I felt like I was waking up from a vivid dream and confronting the harsh light of the real world. For all I knew, I was.
Where was Asher now? Feeling stiff and immobile in the infirmary bed, I turned my head on the pillow, hoping he’d be sitting there beside me, waiting to tell me that what I had seen was only my imagination. Or at least explain the neat trick and how he’d hidden the lighter.
Instead my eyes landed on Devin. He was sitting in a chair pushed up against the wall, staring out the window to the slopes beyond. He wasn’t looking at me.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, confused. “Where’s Asher?”
Devin turned to me, his expression placid. “You’re awake.”
My pulse quickened. “How long have I been out?”
He looked at his hands. “A while.”
“Am I okay?”
“You don’t have a concussion, which was their biggest concern. Everything else is . . . fixable.”
“Everything else?” I tried to sit up, but Devin reached a hand out gently to stop me. A wave of dizziness overcame me, and I leaned back against the pillow. “Where are my friends? What are you even doing here?”
“Did your fall also make you forget that we’re friends, too?” He looked around. “Nurse? I think she has some memory loss after all!”
“Stop it!” I swatted his hand down.
“How do you feel?”
“Why are you here?” I repeated.
“I was worried.”
“But where’s Asher?”
“Asher,” Devin repeated, his eyes frosting over. “Who knows? Changing his clothes, warming up, amassing more groupies. What am I, his guardian?” He pursed his lips.
“He’s your cousin,” I said, bristling at the word groupies. “Shouldn’t you be more worried about him? We both could have died out there.”
Devin grimaced. “Asher can take care of himself. He doesn’t need me to worry about him.”
“Well, I’m worried about him—”
“He didn’t have a scratch on him, Skye—”
“Who rescued us, anyway? I—ow!” I’d tried sitting up too quickly, and pain sliced its way up my leg. I grabbed my ankle, which, despite being tightly wrapped in ACE bandages, still throbbed with pain.
Devin shook his head. It was as if he’d forgotten that I was hurt. “Oh,” he said, glancing at my ankle and then back to me. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I said. “It’s just my—ow—ankle.”
“It hurts?” he asked.
I nodded. “Pretty bad. It must be a sprain or a torn ligament or something.”
Devin stood up and moved to the side of the bed. He put his hands gently on my ankle.
“Here?” he asked.
I closed my eyes, wincing, and nodded. “Yeah.”
My eyes still closed, I could now feel his two hands pressing against my ankle. His touch was remarkably gentle, and I let myself sink deeper into the pillow as a sense of calm washed over me.
He pressed his hands against me, slightly harder. The pain in my ankle flared from sharp to incredible—and then, just like that, it subsided. I opened my eyes in disbelief. Devin took his hands away, eyeing me hesitantly.
“It should be fine now,” he said.
I turned my foot one way and then the other. There wasn’t even a twinge of discomfort. Staring at him, I tried to make sense of what had just happened. “I don’t understand. How did you—” I was interrupted by the door to the room flinging open, and Cassie, Dan, and Ian tumbling in. Cassie’s bunny hat was askew, and her eyes were wide and questioning. Dan’s goggles were around his neck, his knit hat clutched in his gloved hand. Ian looked lost—like he wished he had a latte to offer me.
“Skye! Are you all right? What happened?” Cassie rushed to my side in a dramatic gust of fluttering hair. “We heard you were in an avalanche and—oh, you look okay. Are any parts of you broken? Will you ever walk again?”
“I’m fine, I think,” I said, smiling at Dan and Ian, who hung back along the wall.
“Cool,” Dan said, and noticed Devin. “Hey, man.” He nodded.
“Hey,” Devin said stiffly.
Cassie looked up at Devin, noticing him for the first time and turned, wide-eyed, back to me.
“Oh!” she exclaimed, surprised. Then a slow grin spread across her face. “Oh.” She bent low to my ear. “Are you in the middle of something?” she whispered. “I mean, we can go. . . .”
“Cassie, I’m fine—”
“Actually, I need to go,” Devin suddenly announced.
I didn’t want him to leave. I still had questions. Was it just me, or was he trying to avoid giving me the chance to ask them?
“Devin—”
“I’m glad you’re okay.”
He stood up and nodded curtly to Dan and Ian.
And then he was gone. The door slammed behind him, and the room echoed and then went still.
“Ooookay,” Cassie finally said into the silence. “So I heard this rumor that Asher was ve-ry heroic when you were rescued.”
“Is he okay?” I asked, sitting up quickly at the mention of Asher. “Was he hurt? Devin didn’t seem to know.” Or care, I thought.
“He’s fine,” Ian said. The muscles in his jaw tightened. “The guy has all the luck.”
“Was anyone else caught in the avalanche?” I asked.
“No, you guys were so far ahead, no one could catch up,” Ian explained. “We were all able to avoid it. It was unreal, how fast you were going. You guys were a blur.”
“I got caught up with the challenge. Sorry I left you behind.”
“Hey, you did me a favor!” He grinned reassuringly. “I’m going to see if I can scrounge up some hot chocolate or something for you.”
That was Ian. Always wanting to provide comfort food and drinks. He headed for the door.
“I’ll go with you,” Dan said. “Let Manning and DeNardo know Skye’s okay.”
After they left, Cassie leaned in. “So what’s the real story?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Come on, Skye. I’m your best friend. You have to give me something.”
I gulped. Could I tell her about the strange events? If I told anyone, it would be Cassie. But how could I begin to explain creating . . . holding . . . fire in my bare hands? And the way Devin had seemingly healed my ankle with just a touch?
Before I could decide what to do, the door opened and a nurse walked in.
And I wasn’t sure why, but I suddenly felt as though it was the second time I’d been rescued that day.
Chapter 14
So let me get this straight,” Cassie said. She caught my eye in the mirror and turned around, mid-blush stroke. “You fainted in Asher’s arms, but you woke up in . . . Devin’s?”
The sun had long since set behind the mountain, and we were back in our room at the lodge, getting ready for the campfire later that night. The nurse had discharged me from the infirmary a few hours earlier. When I didn’t show signs of anything worse than boredom, they’d sent me on my way.
“I guess you could twist what I said so it sounds like that.” I grinned.
Now I sat propped up by pillows on the bed, in softly worn jeans and a black zip-up fleece, watchi
ng Cassie line her eyes with deep brown liner. I didn’t know who she could possibly be getting so glammed up for—she hadn’t told me about any new crushes lately, and she was the worst secret keeper I knew. If Cassie liked a guy, we all knew it.
“So?” she prodded. “Details?”
I had hoped after the nurse had interrupted her that Cassie would forget she had questions. But I wasn’t so lucky. I thought of the snow falling away beneath my skis, the terrifying speed at which it had come toward me. Asher and our cave. The fire. Devin—healing my ankle with no more than a touch. It would sound totally insane to say all of this out loud. It was totally insane just to think it. I wondered if the trauma of the ordeal had made me hallucinate.
I needed to find Devin and Asher. I wanted them to explain what was going on. But Cassie had morphed into a mother hen and hadn’t left my side since I was discharged.
I smiled impishly. “There’s nothing to tell! I just blacked out when I fell, that’s all. I don’t even remember it, just that Asher was there with me.”
“I’m calling your bluff,” Cassie said with a swipe of lip gloss for emphasis. “I’ll get it out of you, one way or another.” She laughed an evil-villain laugh, then giggled at her own ridiculousness. Cassie’s giggle was addictive—it had gotten us into trouble way too many times to count (in the library, in the back of class, during last year’s guest lecture on the evils of social networking). I was powerless to resist it—soon we were both laughing so hard it hurt. We were still laughing when we heard a knock at the door.
Cassie got up to get it. Dan and Ian stood on the other side.
“Oh, sorry, is this the wrong room?” Dan teased. “We’re looking for our other, cooler, sane friends.” His hair flopped into his face, and he brushed it back out again. Dan needed a haircut so badly it was comical, but something like that would never occur to him on his own. His mom would probably kidnap him in a week or so and whisk him off to Supercuts. Cassie sniffed and wiped away a tear, smudging her eyeliner.
“Who gave you a black eye?” Dan asked.
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