Page 41 of Spirit Storm

Wylder lifts his head. He's pale, really pale, the usual warmth of his complexion drained to something chalky. His green gaze is present and focused, which is the only thing keeping me from fully unraveling.

"I'm all right," he says.

"You're not." I keep my voice even.

"Relatively."

"Wylder."

"Give me a minute."

I sit back on my heels and watch Henrik tend to him, then look away because seeing his blistered and blackened flesh isn't helping either of us. My hands are in my lap. I press them flat against my thighs.

“Maybe Asher should portal him out,” Orion says.

“Portal him where?” Asher asks. “I can only go to places I can see or have been, and I’ve only been to the headquarters. Do you have a healer there?”

Freya shakes her head. “No one that could help with a wound like this. His best chance is the three of us.”

Something about the way she says that makes my adrenaline fire. “Why? What can we do?”

“I honestly don’t know, but if Henrik is right and there is magic actively assaulting his system, then those of us with spirit magic would be the most qualified to counter it.”

Okay, yeah. I can get behind that.

I study Wylder's face, the set of his jaw, the way his fists are clenched and his knuckles are white. He won’t admit it, but he’s in so much pain.

“All right, then the three of us stop whatever is happening. Orion, lie him down. Freya and Henrik, we need to fix this.”

Henrik pegs me with a look. “And do what, exactly? Do you know?”

“Nope, but I know the longer we wait to try, the worse he’s getting, so we try.”

Henrik’s brow tightens. “That’s a little Wild West, Poppy. Maybe Asher should portal us back to headquarters and we can speak to the healers there and get their thoughts.”

I consider that, but quickly discount the idea. If Asher transports me, Freya, Henrik, and Wylder away, that would leave Orion and Rowan here on their own. And I don’t think Asher can portal that many people out, anyway. “No, that doesn’t work. We stay together and handle it right now.”

“Do you know what you’re doing?”

“Not even a little, but my instincts have never failed me.” I meet Wylder’s gaze. “What do you think?”

He swallows, sweat beading on his brow. “I trust you. And maybe you and blondie could ask the Goddess Mother for a little divine guidance, too.”

I let out a shaky chuckle. “We can do that.”

You hear that, Birdie? Wylder needs me to pull something amazing out of my ass. Don’t let me kill him, please. Guide me through this and give me the strength and wisdom I need to help him.

With that said, I press my hand gently to the edge of the wound. I’m careful not to touch the burn itself, just the unharmed skin at the border.

I close my eyes and reach for my powers. The deep-current of magic lives in my cells, infused with the strength and wisdom of my ancestors.

It answers my call, and I push it outward through my palm, assessing, trying to understand what the lash of magic is doing, so I can stop it.

A moment later, I feel two unfamiliar signatures of spirit magic and give myself a moment to adjust to Freya and Henrik’s intentions.

Please, Birdie. Help us help him. The moment I feel the Goddess Mother’s power surge in me, I surrender to her intentions. I don’t have any ego when it comes to the health and well-being of the people I love.

I’m happy to be the conduit for someone better prepared to get the job done and heal him.