Strange and Ever After (Something Strange and Deadly #3)(37)

“Daniel,” I said, surprised by how calm and smooth my voice was—not that it much mattered. We had picked up substantial speed now, and the air cut into my face and eyes. “Daniel, I need you to hold on as tight as you can. I’m releasing one hand.”

He nodded, and I quickly checked that my left arm wouldn’t give out—but it was fine. I felt shockingly strong. My legs too—they squeezed his waist with unrelenting power. The magic had not only refreshed my strength but increased it.

I released my right hand, instantly grabbing hold of a parachute line. Then I willed every ounce of power I had into it. Stronger, stronger, stronger. Hold us a little longer until we reach the ground.

Instantly, the magic responded. It slipped from my fingers, and though I didn’t look up to watch, blue flared in the top of my vision.

“What did you just do?” Daniel demanded—though he had the good sense not to squirm. “Why . . . why are we fallin’ slower?”

For two heartbeats I remained silent. I waited for the rest of my magic to twine itself around the parachute, to hold the cloth open and keep the strings from snapping. The ground below—leafy farms and distant desert—was still so far away. Still just leafy farms and distant desert.

At last I yanked my arm down and clutched Daniel’s chest once more, and the heady perfection of the spell bubbled over me as it always did.

“Empress?”

Daniel’s voice pierced my happy warmth. “Hmmm?”

“What did you just do?”

“Magic. To keep the parachute intact.”

He didn’t answer, but I felt the muscles in his back tighten. Yet if he was worried about the necromancy, I didn’t care. I had saved his life—what did it matter how?

In the back of my mind, though, something nagged—something bleak that wanted my attention, but I gave it none.

Because, for heaven’s sake, we were flying! The slightest wind gusted over us, and hawks glided at eye level. My heart swelled with joy, and I couldn’t keep from grinning. I was flying! And I had saved Daniel’s life, and he had saved the airship.

It didn’t take long before the ground stopped looking like indistinguishable plants, and the sugarcane leaves and patches of scrubby forest came into focus. Even a clay farmhouse in the distance. Then, faster and faster, the ground approached—and I realized that despite my stroke of genius that would get us to the ground, we weren’t going to arrive softly.

Daniel seemed to have the same thought, for he suddenly started shouting, “Steer left—left, Empress!”

“How?” A wicked-looking sycamore was directly beneath us, and the clicks of insects were doubling in volume each second.

“Left, left! You need to pull—” His words broke off as the leaves raced toward us . . . and then we were on them. I had no choice: I dropped Daniel into the sycamore, and he immediately grabbed a branch. But without his weight, my speed decreased and spiraled even more sharply right.

Then I plummeted between two acacia trees. The thorns sliced into my skin, but I barely noticed—I was too busy trying to grab hold of a branch to stop my fall.

Then my parachute strings snagged, and with a final, gut-wrenching jerk, I stopped moving altogether.

The ground was a solid ten feet beneath me.

“Daniel,” I yelled. “Are you all right?” He didn’t answer, and panic stole my breath. With my fingers flying, I unfastened the sack’s harness. “Daniel? Dan—” My yell became a yelp as I plummeted to the earth.

I hit with a thump. Shock jolted through my legs. I toppled forward onto my hands—and they sank into the soft, rich soil. Bugs hummed everywhere, and the humidity was so intense, it seemed to muffle all sounds.

“Empress!” Daniel’s voice cut through the air and the insects. He was alive—we were both alive.

But what about everyone else? Now that we had landed, what of the airship? I dragged myself into a kneeling position, lowered my eyelids, and felt for Oliver. Felt for the bond of power that connected us. . . .

There it was, tugging in my gut. I reached out along it, trying to gauge where the demon might be.

South. Southeast, actually. At least two miles . . . but not moving. He wasn’t in the sky anymore, and I could only hope that meant he was safe.

For half a breath our bond shimmered more brightly, and a fresh surge of magic pulsed through me. I smiled. Oliver was looking for me too—I could follow our connection until I found him.

Just as I opened my eyes and leaned back to dust off my hands, footsteps beat on the dark earth. I twisted my head left, knowing who came.

And then there he was, his face jubilant. Cheeks flushed and eyes bright, Daniel sprinted to me. Before I could tell him to slow, to give me a moment to breathe, he had me in his arms. He spun me, laughing and crying.

One twirl, two twirls, and the leaves blurred into a world of green and yellow.

But just as suddenly as he’d picked me up, he lowered me onto my toes and clasped the sides of my face. “Empress,” he said, his voice stern—though tears pooled in his eyes, “that was the stupidest, stupidest thing you have ever done.”

I gave a hoarse laugh. “I saved your life.”

“I know—oh God, I know.” He tugged me into an embrace, so tight I could barely breathe. “But please, don’t ever do something that foolish again. Ever. Do you hear me?”