Its magic is pure potential. Mine is an explosion with no direction. We need each other.

My hands fly apart with a gasp, flinging blood in an arc, and the tension breaks. I understand it now—it’s like a string, tying two places together. I’ve knotted the first end around myself, and the second Isolde, double-looped around the egg for enough stability to hold us. For a second, there’s just me, and the portal, and the magic still flooding through me.

My head is quiet.

Raze falls through the portal, taking the imps with him. He finally wakes up enough to scream before the sound cuts off and he’s gone.

Cold hands reach for me, but I’m burning, brilliant, still alight with faerie magic. I’m untouchable.

Everything seems so bright as I fall and fall and fall, gripping the dagger tighter. The portal splinters and explodes into dazzling white flame above me.

And then the light swallows me whole.

chapter thirty-eight

Fire still fills my vision as I blink spots from my eyes. I’m flat on my back, and all I can see is gold and white. The flames are all around me, but I’m not burning. People are shouting in alarm all around me, but the sound feels distant in comparison to the thing that’s here with me in the fire, floating in the ripples of pure magical energy.

The thing that answered when I called, and pulled me the rest of the way home.

The egg is already cracked down the middle, but I watch as light bursts from within in zigzags that cover its surface, and its occupant comes tumbling out into the world.

The fire fades, and the baby dragon and I both collapse onto a soft, thickly carpeted floor. My vision blurs, and consciousness gets slippery. There’s something heavy on my chest. Golden eyes with huge, dark pupils. A gleaming, ash-colored snout pokes into my nose as its newly hatched owner gazes down at me in pure adoration.

And then it’s pulled away. Someone pries the knife, still sticky with blood, from my hand.

Magic dazzles behind my closed eyelids and consumes my mind, my body. I can feel it, insistent under my skin. Sparking on my fingertips.

I can’t move.

I hear voices that I recognize but can’t place, fading in and out. I don’t know how long they’re gone.

Gossamer thrashes in the edges of my consciousness, but he’s still weakened by the iron. He can’t bother me, even in my own pathetic state. Still, I feel his anger, simmering slowly as only an immortal can.

Cool, sweet water trickles down my dry throat.

The space behind my eyes pounds, stabbing me with pain over and over.

Gentle hands stroke my sweaty hair back from my face. I must have a fever.

Everything goes dark, and then the light returns, prodding at my aching head until it fades slowly away again.

Raze, I remember suddenly. I’m not fully conscious, but I remember his body twitching in the leaves as faerie venom pulsed in his bloodstream. He needs a healer. Someone needs to make sure he can see a healer. “Raze,” I mumble. At least, I think I do. I don’t really have control of my face, and it comes out as a soft groan. “Raze,” I try again, desperately. He could be dead, for all I know. I need him to know I’m here to save him. “Raze!”