Page 91 of Edge of Stars

“It’s really beautiful, girls…isn’t it?”

“Mom,” Kell demands again, moving one hand to her shoulder. “Mom?” And then shakes it. Harder. Angrier. “Mom, no. Don’t you dare. Don’t you fucking dare.”

“Don’t waste the gift, all right? Both of you promise me…you won’t waste the gift.”

I’m thankful for her cryptic words only because they force her to finally take in new air with me. But in my mother’s throat, the sound is wet and labored. I’m sure she only gets half of what she needs. And her stare never veers from the constellations over our heads, so vast and luminous in spite of the lights from the village and resort.

“Damn it. Damn it.” Kell’s voice pitches louder and harsher. She rocks back on her heels, gulping hard—but only once. After that swallow, which distorts every curve and plane of her face, she tosses back her head.

And screams again.

“Help! We need fast medical help, damn it! Or was my sister speaking Nepali to you all before?”

I’m too desperate to try reining her in anymore—though desperation might be all we have left, since I look up with her to see that Hecate and the diamonds haven’t shifted their daunting position by one inch. That rules out any kind of call for help from Maximus’s or Jesse’s part—and for reasons I still can’t discern, Zeus and Poseidon look as stuck and miserable as before.

But suddenly I’m double-taking.

Because something has changed here for the better.

Though Maximus’s mom is unable to call on a half-demon superpower to heal from her singes and bruises, she’s already able to stand.

But better still, she’s able to walk.

“Tell her to hang on. I’m on my way!”

Correction. The woman is pushing herself into a run. Right toward us.

“Mother.” I lean over, joining Kell in trying to shake her back to consciousness. “Did you hear that?” I yell. “Help is coming!”

“Not if we’re doing this one by the book.”

There’s no chance to check on Nancy’s progress as soon as Hecate’s calm quip takes over the air. The kind of serenity I’d liken to Annie Wilkes. Or Hannibal Lecter.

Or a witchcraft goddess with an even grander purpose in the center of her demented mind—and a high-impact automatic weapon still in her white-knuckled grip. The book that’s glowing again. Pulsing, stronger and brighter and hotter, as our grinning taunter steadily turns.

And lines up her aim with Nancy’s path.

“Shit!”

I gasp it the same time that Maximus roars with his reaction.

“Mom!”

His torment drills into the center of my soul, lodging there with a painful dent. But a gouge I welcome, since it’s the only element of the next minute that I’m able to keep track of.

I watch every step of Maximus’s run toward Nancy, the wind whipping his mane around his horror-filled face.

I comprehend that before Hecate’s done recalibrating at him, Jesse’s zooming for his best friend like he’s been shot out of a cannon. And that he’s already halfway across the war zone before Kell bolts to her feet.

“No! Jesse!”

But just as swiftly, she’s not on her feet.

She’s…surpassed them.

“Oh my God,” I croak.

“Holy fuck,” Jesse and Maximus snarl together.