They were already so close. Given an hour or two, I would have been able to dismantle the trap. I could easily see how it could be done, but I didn’t have that time. My pulse pounded in my ears. I wouldn’t fail this wolf. I could figure this out.

I quickly examined the trap again. As spells went, it was formidable. Someone had put a lot of time into it. It writhed with the feeling of an old, deep hatred. I had a hard time looking at it, and I hadn’t even touched it yet. How long had the spell been biting into the wolf? I shuddered at the thought.

Okay, focus. I didn’t actually need to break the trap, did I? I just needed to get the wolf out of it. The trap had jaws, jagged teeth holding on to the wolf’s flesh. A trap meant to cause as much pain as possible. But it also left a few small gaps where the metal tooth met the trap itself, like little valleys between mountains.

I dropped down onto the ground in a sitting position, crossing my legs and holding my hands out above the steel jaws. I closed my eyes, calling to my own magic. My strands were wild—the earthy browns, greens, reds, and golds of tree leaves, tangled in with sky blue and glowing silver. I’d have to be careful to keep it separate from the wolf’s magic, which was all metallic grays, silvers, velvety blacks, and bold amber.

The wolf tried to push its own magic at me, trying to help, but I shoved it neatly back.

I grabbed a few silver strands of my own magic, carefully plucking out the ones I wanted and sliding them between the trap and the wolf’s leg. I pushed the strands down, as many as I could fit into the trap, curling them around the wolf’s leg. Once they were in place, I sent a pulse of power, widening the strands.

Nothing happened.

I did it again. And again, growing frantic, less careful. Power, I just needed power.

I was sweating now, my pulse in my mouth. This had to work. It had to—there! Just the slightest movement and a creak as I managed to block some of the pressure from the trap. Triumph filled me. It could work!

The bays of hunting dogs reached me, closer now.

Panic slammed through me as I worked frantically, grabbing whatever magic was close at hand, not even looking at the individual strands, just shoving them in as quickly as they came. The pressure was easing from his leg, transferring to me as I widened the gap, the strands of magic now as thick as my fist. It hurt, holding it open. I wanted desperately to let my magic go, releasing those strands, but if I did that, the trap would snap back into place.

Sweat dripped from my hairline and my jaw ached from clenching it shut. My magic slowly eased the trap open, widening the gap just enough. I strained to keep it that way, the magic pushing back, making my whole body want to crumple up like a soda can. I waited until the wolf pulled his leg free, hobbling slightly to the side. He couldn’t go far—my magic still encased his leg, some of the strands caught in the awful trap.