Ian scooped Altamira up into his arms, making soothing noises. “Nonsense, darling,” he said briskly, the croak in his voice betraying his own distress. “She’s fine, isn’t she, Jamie?”

“J-Jamie? Is she okay?” Terracotta.

Jamie pushed up the sleeve of Mika’s oversized white sweater and reached for her wrist. In the horrible heartbeat of silence before the flutter of her pulse beat against his fingers, he had time to see that there wasn’t a scratch on her and she almost looked like she was asleep. Eyes closed, face very cold and pale, strands of dark hair sticking to her damp skin. She didn’t so much as stir when he touched her, didn’t make a sound, but he could feel that stubborn, hummingbird pulse in her wrist and relief made him feel almost light-headed.

“She’s alive,” he rasped. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and pushed it into Rosetta’s hands, then scooped Mika’s cold, still form into his arms. “Call 999.”

Ian intervened. “We can’t do that!”

Back at full height now, Jamie turned to stare Ian down. Mika’s head flopped against his shoulder like a doll’s, and now that he knew she was alive, his relief was rapidly transforming into panic, fury, and a number of other feelings he wasn’t quite sure he could name.

“Why can’t we call a fucking ambulance?”

“And say what?” Ian countered. With Altamira on one skinny hip, he reached out with his free hand to press it tenderly against Mika’s cold cheek. Jamie resisted the entirely irrational urge to jerk her away. “I don’t like it any more than you do, Jamie, but paramedics, doctors, and hospitals will ask more questions than we can answer.”

“You know, Ian, I can’t help but feel like awkward questions are a small price to pay if they can keep her alive!”

“I don’t think Mika will feel the same way,” said Ian, but he looked uncertain. “Besides, if magic did this to her, magic is the only thing that’s likely to fix it and ambulances don’t exactly come equipped for—wait a minute!” Ian’s tone shifted abruptly, and his eyes sparked blue with recognition. “What’s that below her throat?”

They all peered at the base of Mika’s throat, where, in the space right between her collarbones, a single, tiny, spring-green leaf had sprouted out of her skin.

“Ohhhh,” Ian breathed, sounding both relieved and amazed. “She’s hibernating.”

“She’s what?” Rosetta said doubtfully. “Hibernating? Like a bear?”