“Crap,” Natalie says as screams erupt.
The train rumbles closer.
Every survival instinct tells me to run, but the same pull that drew me to Lucy, to curses, to this life, roots me in place. Ihaveto catch this thing.
“Keep moving!” Natalie roars at the crowd. “Off the tracks!”
People scurry away as she raises her voice. Loose rocks and driftwood gather at her feet—ammunition ready while everyone’s focus is on the elephant.
The elephant’s ears flare outward as it shakes its head. And I’m no wildlife expert, but I’m pretty sure this means it’s about to charge.
The railway crossing bell rings. Barrier arms lower. The ground rumbles.
The elephant starts toward us, the planks groaning under each heavy step. I spin and grab Natalie’s wrist, pulling her off the pier with me. We hurtle onto the brick boardwalk, its thundering strides gaining on us.
The freight train roars past, a wall of metal between us and the crowd.
Natalie seizes her chance, whirling around and raising her arms. My hair lifts from the surge of power as she launches her arsenal. Rocks and driftwood rise from the beach and encircle the elephant, bringing it to a stop on the boardwalk.
Watching her control the earth with such grace is a harsh reminder of the gulf between us. She’s so utterly, incredibly extraordinary.
“Get ready with the net!” Natalie shouts.
The elephant swings its head left and right, calculating its next move.
“How? It’s too small and so am I!” I shout, searching for a height advantage. The railings on the pier… The giant white rock that the city was named for… Ugh, who am I kidding? I’m not a ninja.
The swirl of stones and wood constricts around the elephant, about to slam into it. Its form ripples again, shrinking beneath the debris. Gray hide melts into spotted fur, its trunk shortens, and its body condenses into something lean and deadly.
“Oh, come on,” I mutter as a cheetah crouches on the boardwalk, its tail lashing.
Beneath the train’s rumble, the whispers grow louder.“We remember the cages. We remember the fires. Turn back while you still draw breath.”
That voice again! Who’s talking to me? Are the Madsens behind this?
The image of a familiar long room lined with metal bars and torches flashes across my vision like a bright light. I blink, stumbling backward, and then it’s gone.
Oh God. Is the voice…?
I shake my head and raise the net, refusing to be thrown off. There will be time to decipher that later. Right now, I’m not letting this thing get away.
The cheetah bares its fangs, its haunches tensing as its purple eyes lock onto me.
Something in its eyes freezes me in place. Maybe it’s the shade of purple—the same as Natalie’s when she’s using magic, and Lucy’s when she terrorized my bedroom, and—
The cheetah launches forward like a bullet.
Adrenaline surges through me. With a battle cry that sounds braver than I feel, I throw the net. The golden threads fan out, beautiful and enchanted, gleaming like treasure—and it misses entirely, falling limp onto the damp rocks at our feet.
“Dammit!”
The cheetah twists past me fluidly, and Natalie raises a wall of rocks to funnel it back. But it shrinks into a tiny sparrow, zipping through a gap.
“This is ridiculous,” I say, collecting the tangled net. “Isn’t there a better way?”
“We knew it’d be impossible,” Natalie grunts, raising an avalanche of rocks, sticks, shells, and debris above the bird to force it lower.
The sparrow spins and dives, so small among the flying rubble that I struggle to keep track of it.
