His silence pressed hard. He knew as well as I did how wrong this could go and how quickly.
I mapped a mental tree of worst-case scenarios, starting with mild injuries and branching out to the catastrophic. I was halfwaythrough revising my treatment plan for demonic possession when the wards shivered.
Not broke. Justflexed.
“Hit the lights,” I breathed, pulling on a pair of protective gloves. “Give her plenty of shadows to find.”
The second he did, one of the med bay alarms let out a single, puzzled chirp, and my head snapped up. Koa froze, shoulders tensed, eyes locked on the center of the room. The air seemed to thicken, pressure dropping like the moment before a storm breaks.
Then,BAM!
An enormous black body crashed to the floor. Foster in wolf form, his fur burning with green flames that clung to him like sentient tar, and the bottom dropped out of my stomach.
Devil’s Breath. Soul-burning, Diabolically fueled and clung like glue. Some of the worst pain one could experience after dragonfire.
Zane stumbled into the room after him, face bloodless, and Seri followed. Her eyes were wide, her breath coming in short, sharp pants as she clutched her right hand to her chest, fingers curled inward like she was holding back a scream.
“Cas!” Zane’s voice cracked. “She’s hurt!”
I was already moving, smearing antipyretic gel across my gloved palms.
“Let me see,” I demanded, reaching for her hand.
She hesitated for half a second before extending her fingers. The Devil’s Breath licked at her skin where she’d been gripping Foster’s ruff. It wasn’t deep yet, but it was starting to burrow, smoke rising from the edges as it tried to eat its way to her soul.
I saw the strain in her jaw, the sweat on her upper lip, the way she was shaking. Her magic pulsed under her skin, silvery lunar power trying to combat the acidic green flames. She was trying to burn it out herself.
“Protocol Umbra!” Carrying her to the second cot, I swaddled her in a sheet not only to preserve her dignity in that nightie I was burning after this, but also to immobilize her other arm. “Ko, you’re in charge of Foster. Don’t bother getting him off the floor.”
Then, because he needed something to snap him back to the present, I called, “Zane, contain the wolf. Don’t let him flail around.”
“I don’t… I don’t know Protocol Umbra!” His voice cracked, his face still unnaturally pale.
“It’s the ‘When Shit from Hell Hits the Fan’ Protocol,” Ko translated.
“Why didn’t he just say so?” Z muttered.
I was too busy with Seri to care about their commentary. She was pouring more of her lunar magic onto the Devil’s Breath, and I caught her wrist before she could make it worse.
“Stop. Your magic feeds it.”
“But—”
“Devil’s Breath isn’t natural fire. The more power you throw at it, the stronger it gets.” I held her hand steady in my gloved one as I examined it. “Is it on you anywhere else?”
“No. Just my fingers.”
Behind us, Foster let out a pained whine as Ko began his own treatment protocol. I blocked it out. I couldn’t split my focus, not with Devil’s Breath.
Protocol Umbra. Layer by layer.
“This is going to hurt,” I warned, reaching for the salves I’d set out earlier.
She nodded once, jaw set.
Layer One: Isolation Barrier. Contain the magical spread. Never let it crawl deeper. I reached for one of my custom balms of starroot and moonstone, ground to a fine salve and mixed with blessed ash. The three worked together to bind the fire’s threads and pull them out of her. I smoothed it over the burns, watching the green flames hiss and sputter as it worked.
Seri’s entire body went rigid, but she didn’t scream.
