Strange and Ever After (Something Strange and Deadly #3)(36)

Then I jumped too.

CHAPTER EIGHT

I was weightless. I wasn’t falling! I wasn’t moving! I was lost in an endless, gray world of clouds.

And Daniel—I couldn’t see him anywhere.

But then I broke through. The lush vegetation of farms opened up before me like a jungle. Wind slashed into my face and forced its way into my nose, my mouth, my eyes—I couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe—and I knew, with horrifying certainty, that I was falling.

Fast.

I forced my eyes to stay open though tears poured from the sides, and I searched for Daniel. How could I have lost him so easily?

Then there he was, off to my left, arms flailing out to his sides. His hands clawed as if he grasped for something—anything—to slow his fall.

I closed my arms into my body and aimed, willing myself to fall faster. Faster.

I risked turning my head. But I instantly wished I hadn’t—the Hell Hounds were there. Gray storm clouds with jaws of death. They careened straight for Daniel.

I had to reach him first.

I would reach him first. Faster, faster, faster! He was so close now. Through my watering eyes, I could see his hair lashing.

And I could see the monocle glowing.

I slammed into his back and threw my arms around his chest, clinging as tightly as I could.

A scream ripped from his lips—and was instantly lost behind us.

“It’s me!” I shrieked in his ear. “Eleanor!” And in that moment he was distracted. The blue glow died; the spell lost its hold. I gripped the monocle and yanked, snapping it free.

Then, with all my strength, I slung it into the sky.

But the Hell Hounds’ open jaws were still cycloning for us.

“Parachute!” Daniel roared.

My fingers wrapped around the canvas cord, and in a single move I squeezed Daniel tighter and ripped the parachute free.

Fabric whipped out, billowing wide. In a neck-wrenching movement, we tore backward, our bodies yanked straight up, shooting us above the Hell Hounds.

They screeched beneath us, a gust of wind bursting up as their thunderous jaws snapped onto a dim, glowing chain.

The wind blasted us, swelling into the parachute with a roar. We rocketed even higher, pushed off far from the Hounds’ fury.

But not before I saw the glowing chain—and the Hounds—explode in a flash of blinding blue.

The instant the Hounds were gone, Daniel cried out, “I can’t believe you, you stupid, stupid girl!” He was shouting in my ear, and I realized from the shudders in his chest that he was sobbing. “Stupid, stupid Eleanor—Why?”

His arms came backward, and I felt his hands clasp behind my back; but he couldn’t get much of a grip at this angle. So I squeezed tighter and wrapped my legs around his waist. “Can these parachutes hold two?”

“No!” he screamed. “You just killed yourself too!”

“Isn’t there something we can do?” The only thing keeping Daniel alive was my arms—and my strength was draining fast.

It wouldn’t matter that I had just saved Daniel’s life, and he had saved the airship—

The airship!

I wrenched my head up, hoping to see it, but my entire, watery vision was filled with white fabric. And my ears were filled with the creaking parachute lines. It was the only sound over our heavy gasps for air.

“Can Joseph land?”

“We have other things to worry about right now!” Daniel tried to look up.

“Stay still!” I clutched him more tightly. “If you squirm, I’ll drop you!”

“You need to drop me anyway!”

“Absolutely not.” We were alive, and that was not something I was going to give up.

“Let go,” Daniel shouted, but I noticed he made no move to break free.

“I didn’t catch you so I could drop you again.”

“Well,” he growled, “this parachute isn’t gonna hold us much longer. We’ll start falling faster real soon. Got any more genius ideas?”

“Not if you keep insulting me,” I hissed in his ear. “I just saved your wretched skin, Daniel Sheridan. The least you could do is thank me.”

“I’ll only thank you if we get to the ground alive.” There was a new note of terror in his voice, and I realized by the quickening whistle of wind in my ears, by the growing funnel of air in the parachute, that gravity had taken its hold once more. I looked out over the land—yellow rock, jagged hills in the distance, and far to the east, the muddy Nile. I had no idea where we were now or how we would find the others, but I’d be damned if I’d let my heroic jump go to waste.

Screwing my eyes shut, I focused on my spiritual energy. If I could strengthen myself, why not the parachute? Necromancers transferred spells to inanimate objects—that was the purpose of an amulet—so surely I could find some way to make this work. . . .

My arm muscles scorched with strain. My fingers were weakening. I made myself inhale deeply—stretch my lungs to the limit—and draw in a full breath. My power spiraled up from the tips of my body.

And from something warm that pulsed in my pocket. The ivory fist. It was feeding me magic. But I did not have time to dwell on this. I simply gathered and grabbed at all the power I could.

A trickle of blue warmth turned to a rush and then to a torrent. I gathered it in my chest, letting it whorl around my heart as I called up more . . . until my well of power was pressing against my lungs, pushing out my oxygen. Until soon enough I would have nothing left to breathe.