Winter Fire (The Witchling #3)(80)

Morgan sobbed. A trickle of cold air magick swirled through her. She could breathe suddenly and sucked in a few deep breaths.

“Okay?” Summer asked.

“Okay,” Morgan said in a whisper. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Head hurts.” Summer sounded disoriented.

Fear surged.

In. Out. She just had to follow Beck’s advice about meditating. Breathe and focus.

Summer shifted. The tight quarters made it hard for them both to lie any way other than on their sides. The air witchling hugged Morgan, and in turn, she clung to Summer.





Chapter Twenty-One


Summer was reminded of Decker, the night she barely saved him from the Darkness. Morgan trembled, her breathing ragged. She needed someone like Beck, the same way Decker needed Summer. Her fire magick was almost too hot for Summer to bear, and it tore through her. She struggled to balance it out with the air and earth magick. Unable to physically touch either element from inside the tomb, she was weaker than she expected.

“Can you tell me what happened?” Summer asked. “Like how they put us in here?”

Morgan drew a shuddering breath. She explained in halting words what she remembered from the time Summer was knocked out.

Summer listened. Her head felt woolly, and she smelled blood. Alexa hit her hard. It wasn’t a surprise from Decker’s long-time admirer. Summer knew pain after months recovering from her plunge off a cliff. It kept her calm and sharp now.

Morgan was in shock. Not all of her shaking was from the frantic fire in her blood. She fell quiet.

Dawn meant to bury them alive. A chill swept through Summer. Not only that, but somehow, the Darkness had taken Dawn. She needed to warn Decker.

Her air magick sought some crack in the stone around them that would connect her with the outside. There was none. They were sealed in.

Morgan wasn’t able to handle that truth or the one that the more frenzied her fire was, the less oxygen was left for the both of them. The girl was barely hanging on. The thought of her air being suffocated made fear swirl through Summer.

“Let’s try kicking the lid,” she suggested.

“It’s too heavy.”

“Let’s try, Morgan.”

Morgan shifted onto her back. Summer wriggled into position with her, unable to see anything in the darkness of their tomb. Her feet met the stone above them.

“Ready?” she asked.

“Yes,” Morgan said. Focused on trying to escape, she was calming.

“One, two, three.”

They both kicked. Nothing happened.

“Again.”

They did it again and a third time. The lid wasn’t budging. Morgan began to panic again.

“Please, Morgan,” Summer urged. “You have to stay calm.”

“I’m trying.”

Summer shivered. She didn’t know why; Morgan was burning up and the space of the tomb was warm from their body heat.

Was.

Everything was suddenly cold, except for Morgan.

“We have to try again,” Morgan said.

“Okay.” Summer said. She counted down. After several more kicks, she stopped. “Take a break for a minute.”

“No. We have to get out of here!”

“Morgan, we need to conserve our strength and use it together.”

Morgan gave a frustrated sigh. “Are we far from the school?”

“I’m not sure. The resort is like, fifteen miles through snow, though. I’m not sure where we are now.”

“Fifteen miles. In a storm …” Morgan was quiet, considering. “Maybe an hour?”

“It really depends on the road. If they take snowmobiles, it’ll be faster. If not, it could take all night.”

They fell quiet. Summer’s thoughts went to Decker. She was praying for him to find her without knowing how he could. Morgan was in-between, and Summer was Light. Decker wasn’t going to be able to find them easily.

Beck should. But he wasn’t there. At first, Summer doubted what Dawn said about him being in a coma. It made sense, though, as to why he hadn’t come when his Light witchlings were in danger.

She relaxed, shivering. Her thoughts went to Decker. Gentle, strong, Dark. He was beautiful in a way only she saw. She ached for his hug and to gaze into his brown eyes. Thinking of him reminded her of how he was able to take the chill out of winter whenever they touched.

“Why is it cold in here?” she whispered.

Morgan said nothing for a long moment.

“We have to leave, Summer,” she said. “We can’t be here when they come back.”

“Come back? I’m pretty sure they’ve left us for dead.”

“They’re coming back.”

“How do you know?” Summer asked.

“Something Dawn said when she threw me against the wall.”

“That wasn’t her. That was the Darkness,” Summer said, hushed. “I’ve dealt with it enough to know.”

“Then we better hurry.”

“What did it say?”

“Please, can we try to kick again?”

“Yeah.” Summer suppressed her urge to question the girl, sensing her fear. “Ready?”

They kicked again until Summer’s teeth rattled from the jarring efforts. The lid didn’t budge. Summer stopped, resting against the stone. It was even colder, and she felt tired.