I break out of my stupor and throw myself on the ground beside Mel. Sunday is just alive. He’s breathing, but it’s an awful, labored sound as blood foams over his lips. I meet Mel’s eyes and with that look tell her he needs us. She takes a deep breath and we lock hands. I close my eyes and reach out my remaining hand as Mel does the same. The instant I touch Sunday, white-hot agony hits my stomach. I want to wrench my hands away to stop the pain, but if I do that, Sunday will die. The intensity of the agony tells me how close to death he is.
The pain isn’t going away and I open my eyes, willing Sunday to respond to my touch. His wounds remain. He isn’t healing. I start to shake my head, but Mel grabs both my wrists, holding my hands in place, cranking up the juice.
“Don’t you dare give up on him. We can do this,” she pleads.
I keep my hands in place, consumed by agony, knowing it’s no use, but knowing Mel will never forgive me if we stop now. My head is spinning and I am losing my grip on consciousness.
“Mel, let go. You’re killing him,” Grace shouts. “We’re going to lose them both.”
Her shout registers with me, giving me the extra strength I need. I grit my teeth.
“We’re not losing anyone today,” I hiss.
I press harder on Sunday’s body, As Mel holds my wrists tighter, we give it everything we’ve got; a scream tears from my lips as the agony sears me. But I can feel it starting to work. The pain is beginning to subside. I risk another look at Sunday and feel relief grab me. The blood is no longer foaming on his lips and his skin is starting to look pink again, the burnt places starting to heal. His eye is no longer leaking.
“Someone straighten his leg out,” I say.
Sailor runs to Sunday’s foot. She hesitates when she realizes what she has to do.
“Now,” I scream.
She starts visibly and grabs Sunday’s foot. He screams in agony, beads of sweat coating his face as Sailor forces his broken leg straight. She holds it in place, tears running down her face as it begins to knit back together. I keep my hands in place until Sunday is healed and then I pull them back, panting.
“That was way too fucking close, guys,” I say.
No one argues with me. Everyone just looks shell-shocked. I push myself to my feet on shaky legs.
“Let’s just take a moment to breathe,” I say.
Mel stands up and before I can say anything, she passes out. It took everything we had to heal Sunday. Ya-Ya rushes to her side and Aziza kneels next to me.
I run my gaze over the team. We’re all battered and bruised, but the rest of the wounds are nothing that can’t be healed once we get the dagger and get back to the cabin. My eyes meet Sailor’s and the vacant look in her eyes scares me.
“Sailor? Are you alright?” I ask.
She shakes her head.
“I hurt him, Rye. I…I made him make that awful noise,” she says.
“You helped him,” I correct her.
She just keeps staring ahead, shaking her head.
“Hey, listen to me,” Sunday says. He takes her chin in his hand and forces her to meet his gaze. “I’m all healed, Sailor. Sure, it hurt, but it’s done now. If you hadn’t done what you did, my bones would have healed in the position they were in. And trust me, re-breaking them would have been a hell of a lot worse than that.”
Sailor nods slowly and then she blinks and the vacant look is gone.
“I’m so sorry,” she says.
“Say sorry when your nerve goes and you don’t act, not when you do.” Sunday smiles.
She smiles back at him and she looks almost normal again. He pulls her into a hug and she holds on like her life depends on it. Ideally, I’d like to give her a bit longer, but the longer we stay here, the more likely we are to be attacked again. Mel is awake now. Aziza gave her a power bar she had in her bag and she is looking more like herself. She rushes to Sunday’s side and hugs him.
“Guys, we have to move,” I say.
Reluctantly the rest of the team gets to their feet and shakes their limbs out, making sure they’re all in one piece. Sailor reaches into her pocket and produces the medallion and we step through the entrance to the cave. The cave is large and airy and totally empty.
“Where’s the dagger?” Sailor demands.
Jinx points to a spot on the wall opposite us. The outline of the medallion sits there on the wall.
“You need to unlock it,” he reminds her.
She nods and steps forward. We all crowd close to her as she puts the medallion into the outline. She turns it and it clicks into place. The wall before us begins to flicker, and slowly, it vanishes altogether. The dagger sits on a plinth a couple yards away. Aziza takes a step forward, and as she does, the ground beneath us lurches.
The ground before us melts away, leaving a gaping chasm between us and the dagger. Aziza is now standing on empty air. I reach for her as she begins to fall, snagging the back of her leather jacket. She plummets down and I feel myself being dragged forward. I go over the edge, and Aziza and I are falling.
I feel a hand grab mine and at the same time, grab Aziza’s. I look up into Sailor’s frantic eyes as she keeps her grip on my hand. She may be brave but she is still small; her weight is no match for gravity. As she starts sliding toward the edge, we have seconds before we all plunge to our deaths.
