“We don’t know each other well enough for that. You have to work with another mage for longer than a few hours a day for a week in order to form a magical union with them, and even then, the mages are usually sleeping together.”
“No. Long story short, no. Got it.” I gritted my teeth. “I can do it.”
“Jacinta.” Sebastian grabbed my arm and pulled me, forcing me to look at his worried eyes, the streetlights almost turning them pale blue. “Listen to me. You do not have enough power. Neither does Austin. Not for both of those creatures. Send them back. Or turn them loose. Or…whatever you have to do to make them leave. You’re not ready.”
“Yes you are,” Ivy House said. “But only if you accept the rest of your magic. It is time to claim what is yours.”
The woman smiled, as though she could hear everyone speaking, bowed, and retreated back to the thunderbird. “Let us begin.”
“No, no, wait—” Sebastian said.
It was then that I felt Ivy House’s magic flicker and fail.
“She has accepted your challenge,” Ivy House said. “She has deadened my magic. I cannot help.”
“But I didn’t say anything,” I said.
“Send them away,” Sebastian cried.
“I don’t think I can,” I choked out.
The woman smiled. “Until the death.”
Twenty-Three
“What does she mean, ‘until the death’?” I cried, wanting to run but knowing there was nowhere to go. I didn’t have Ivy House this time. I didn’t have any other artillery. I just had my crew.
“What’s happening?” Sebastian asked, his arm still held out in front of me like he was a mother trying to keep her child from hitting the dash.
“It’s too late. It’s a challenge,” I said, swallowing hard.
He swore. “Okay, well, let’s see what we can do. We have to kill the phoenix.”
“Because they are then reborn,” I said, piecing it together.
“They are reborn, yes. But if you die, it’s forever.” Sebastian dragged me a little closer, Kingsley pacing in front of us, his tail twitching at the end as he watched the phoenix.
Edgar ran in from the side in his purple sweats, wielding a long metal stake that was almost certainly more fatal to him than it would be to anyone else. The others flew in from overhead. They must’ve felt Ivy House’s defenses go down.
“Here we go!” Sebastian shouted.
Another burst of fire rose and surged forward, larger than the first, a great blast of heat and flame. Sebastian threw up the same shield, covering Kingsley, himself, and me. Heat bled through, and it felt like it was melting my face off. My clothes were hot against my skin. My eyes burned.
Sebastian swore again. “Think it through,” he muttered to himself. “Think it through. It’s fire. It is magical fire. It’s a natural spell created within the beast. Figure out a way to combat it.”
I nodded in encouragement. But the fire died and the thunderbird stepped forward, shaking out its mighty wings. It spread them wide, nearly taking up the whole bulbous end of the street, before flapping them forward and down. A great gust of wind slammed into us, and Sebastian’s shield did virtually nothing. The wind ripped us off our feet and flung us backward, slamming us into the house.
“Think it through,” I heard Sebastian muttering again, jumping up and running forward. He belted out a spell that twisted and curled into the air, sending the great thunderbird back a step. But the phoenix was ready for Sebastian. She sent off a jet of fire this time, like liquid magma, blistering in intensity, directed at his magical shield.
It would not hold. Not for this. The heat had almost made it through last time, and this attack was much more intense.
I flung out my hand, layering my own shield over his, pouring power into it.
The lava stream slammed against it. My shield held. At first.
Smoke billowed from my magic, melting down to nothing. The stream hit his shield next, blasting around the arch, sinking into the magic.
Yelling wordlessly, knowing that I couldn’t heal him if that lava made it through—it would kill him too quickly—I yanked Cheryl from my back pocket and ran forward, snapping it open as I did so.
A roar came from the other side of the attack, but not from a creature. From a Jeep.
Rubber screeched and the back end of the Jeep slid around as it stopped. The door opened and Austin jumped out, naked one minute and a flash of light the next. When it faded, he stood on his hind legs in polar bear form. His roar shook the earth. Shook my bones. Made the wolves in the cage cower and the phoenix and thunderbird shut down their magic (if only for a moment) and turn around.
The basajaun stepped forward now, opening his arms wide. He added his own bellow, the urge to fight singing through me, too.