“Down to the wire,” Lee says as he crafts our next lightning bolt. He turns it on its side and sends it flying around the circle, a brilliant, glimmering line of light connecting us all. I love watching it illuminate the faces of the witches it passes, everyone in contented concentration, laughing and focusing and challenging each other.
It doesn’t feel like work. It doesn’t constantly remind me that our atmosphere is hurting or that our witches are dying. It’s just fun, a group of witches enjoying that we’re witches.
“Damn it,” Jessica yells, jumping back and clutching her hand.
“Good run, Jess,” Lee says, but she shoves him when she passes, rolling her eyes.
“Oh, stop gloating,” she says, and Lee holds his hands up, laughing.
Jessica sits down with the others who are out, and it’s my turn to start the next round. My hands get to work, pulling water from the soft dirt until it vaporizes and a heavy thundercloud hangs high above me.
It waits for me, the patience of the season obvious even within the storm. Spring is the epitome of patience, waiting out the cold and frost and death of winter until everything comes alive again.
I smile, because I think maybe I came alive again this spring too.
The energy builds, a current that prickles my skin and moves through my body in jolts. Lightning flashes before me, and I flip it on its side and send it flying toward Paige.
But when it makes its first pass around the circle and gets back to me, it’s clear it’s too strong. Way stronger than the others. I try to catch it, stop it with my hand or let it vanish in front of me, but it’s as if it has its own magic, circling around us as if it’s the one in control.
Paige grunts under the weight of it, but it refuses to go out, spinning around and around and around.
“Move back!” I yell. “It’s too strong.”
Everyone does as I say, rushing back, but the lightning follows them, unwilling to die out.
I watch in horror as I realize what’s happening.
The lightning bypasses Paige and weaves around Ari, flying straight toward Sang. It follows our connection, leaving a shimmering trail in its wake, crushing my hope that I’d learned to control my magic.
I was so wrong to hope.
“No!” I scream, but it’s no use.
Lightning enters his chest and shoots down his left arm, exiting out his fingertips. He convulses and is thrown several yards before slamming into the ground, shaking shaking shaking.
“No!” I yell again, running toward him.
I drop to my knees and say his name, but he doesn’t respond. A superficial burn is already forming on his skin, an intricate, fractal-like pattern that’s deep red and looks like the leaves of a fern. It covers all the skin I can see on his chest and neck.
“Sang!” I yell, but there’s still no reply.
I look at his chest, but it doesn’t rise and fall.
It’s motionless.
My fingers tremble as I check for a pulse, and I almost cry when a faint, rhythmic beating meets my fingertips.
“He has a pulse, but he’s not breathing,” I say as Paige drops to the ground beside me. I tilt his head back and begin mouth-to-mouth, taking huge gulps of air and filling his lungs. I watch his chest rise as I breathe into him, up up up before deflating again.
Another big breath, another rise of his chest.
I keep going until finally, finally, he chokes and gasps for air.
“I’m here, you’re okay,” I say, tears streaming down my face. “You’re okay.”
His movements are slow, and his eyes drift back in his head before locking on mine.
“Tell me what hurts,” I say, searching him for signs of trauma.
“My skin,” he says, his voice garbled.
“Okay. Anything else?”
“My muscles are sore.”
I nod. “Do you know who I am?”
A small smile forms on his lips. “My Ever, ever, ever,” he says, so weak I can barely hear it.
I choke back the tears and nod hard. “Yes, good,” I say. “That’s good. Do you know what happened?”
“I was about to win the ring of fire when I was struck by lightning instead.”
I laugh and help him sit up. “Yes, I’m sure you were going to win.”
“I would have given you a run for your money,” Paige says beside me, but I can hear the relief in her voice.
Sang looks at her. “I believe that,” he says.
Paige stands and goes to the rest of our classmates, tells them Sang’s okay and that they’re not to tell anyone else what happened unless they want to open themselves up to Ms. Suntile’s punishment.
“Can you walk?” I ask, my voice shaking.
Sang reaches his hands to my face and looks me right in the eyes. “I’m okay, I promise. Just a burn and some sore muscles. I’ll be fine.” He wipes the tears from my cheeks and gives me a soft kiss.
“This was my fault.” It’s a terrifying realization that I whisper more to myself than him.
“What? No, it was a stupid game that got out of hand. That’s all.”
“Sang, I watched it go after you. It sought you out.” My breath gets quicker and shallower as I realize the full weight of what happened. “I can’t keep you safe,” I say between sobs.
“Hey, let’s talk about this later, okay? It’s late, and it’s been a long night.” He slowly gets to his feet, and I stand with him, ready to catch him in case he falls. But he’s steady, his vision and breathing back to normal.
“That burn’s going to hurt like hell,” Paige says. “I still have some cream left over from when I was struck earlier this year. Hey, we could start a club.”
“That isn’t funny,” I say to her through clenched teeth.
“Not even a little?” Her mouth quirks, and I know she’s trying to lighten the mood, trying to keep me from
