A whistle drew the wolf’s attention again, and this time it walked off, staying as close to its master as it could without treading into dangerous, trapped ground.

Every fucking one of my nerves were kicking off, forcing movements, causing muscles to jerk, pull, or just hold a too-flexed position until they cramped. At any given moment there were at least six points in my arms and hands where it felt like wedges were being driven in deep into center mass of muscle or between muscle and bone.

My power was still just not there. Flight that couldn’t actually hold me up. An aura that felt like a memory of a feeling. The Wretch—a forcefield so small that it didn’t extend any further than my clothes. So fragile that my attempt at moving scraped it across the ground and destroyed it.

Swansong used her power, and it was a spitting of power, barely extending a foot and a half past her hand. She’d fallen, sliding into the ditch, and the use of her power destroyed one of the red lights.

Chastity had pulled herself up onto the road, but it looked like her legs were mostly disabled, and the spasms there made it hard for her to even sit up. Byron was beside her, and he was pretty badly off.

As traps went, it was effective. Most of our group was out of action. Now—

I shifted my weight, leaned back, then threw myself forward, getting to my feet. My flight did about five percent of the work. My boots skidded on the side of the road, putting me further into the ditch, while reminding me I had a row of stitches on the underside of my foot. As my boots hit the lowest point of the ditch, a red light appeared, joined by others, further away. I stumbled away as they crackled to life.

Each trap generated the red arcs about two feet around them, just on their own, but they also activated nearby traps that were even ten feet away, and the chains of electricity that connected each were what created the carpet.

I could make headway, I was pretty sure, but it was staggered headway. If I was at the edge, I could avoid the worst of it, triggering them, waiting, then advancing until I triggered others. Each crackle made my arms spasm almost sympathetically.

They were fucking hurting Sveta, and there was nothing I could do about it.

No flight, no strength, no aura. Just me and a minefield.

Swansong used her power again. She was on her knees, lashing out to destroy the traps that illuminated around her. I saw her stagger to her feet, make it a few steps, only to collapse again.

I could see the expression on her face, all softness gone, only darkness behind eyes that smoked visibly with Kenzie’s tech.

“Help.”