“Janet,” Grandmother said sternly. “Time to wake up now.”
I groaned. It was too early, surely. Too early to drag myself up for another day of school, with kids who didn’t know much what to make of me, the crazy girl with no mother.
“Janet,” Grandmother repeated. The cane poked me again.
“Ow,” I said. The voice that came out of me was adult and slurred. Didn’t matter, though. Grandmother was not above jostling me out of bed now that I was twenty-eight instead of eight. Before she had a cane, she’d simply shake me until I responded.
“Janet,” this voice was Mick’s, rumbling at me with all his strength. His aura touched me, fire and smoke.
I twitched my fingers, happy. “You got your dragon back.”
Or tried to say. My mouth barely worked at all.
“Let me try.” Gabrielle sounded close by.
She put a warm hand on my wrist. I tried to jerk away, afraid, but a spark of mind-shaking magic zapped through me. It was answered on my other side by a bite of dragon magic, meeting the Beneath power in a wash of heat.
I gasped. Something was on my face, and I started to choke.
The crushing feeling returned to my chest. I gasped again, struggling for breath, and my eyes flew open.
Before I could cry out, Mick brushed my face, lifting away whatever was on it. “Hey, baby,” he said softly.
I blinked. I lay in a dimly lit room lined with windows and curtains. A quiet beeping filled my ears, and beyond it, the dying notes of the flute.
Gabrielle stood on one side of my bed, her dark eyes wide with worry. Mick was on the other side, his hand in mine. His eyes were black, the blue barely there, and his aura showed me the shadow of his dragon.
I exhaled in relief. “Dream,” I mumbled. “Only a dream.”
Grandmother’s cane moved Gabrielle aside. Beyond her, I saw my beloved father, holding his flute, Gina standing close to him.
“Dreams?” my grandmother asked, her dark eyes fixed on me. “What dreams? When you feel better, you need to tell me all about them.”
***
Much later, after nurses kicked everyone out, doctors came to check me. Mick had told me that I’d been here two days, and surgeons had fixed me after the jail in Flat Mesa had all but crushed me. The doctors now told me I’d be fine, but I had to lie there for a while longer.
When the nurse returned to hang new bags on the hooks above my bed, I asked her to please send Mick to me. The nurse gave me a disapproving look, but I must have appeared pathetic, because she nodded and departed.
Not ten seconds later, Mick was coming in the door. He’d have been right outside.
“I hate hospitals,” I said, my tongue clumsy.
Mick pulled a chair next to the bed and sat down, taking my hand between his. His face was a misery.
“Cheer up,” I told him. “I’m alive. Where am I?” I felt the press of too many people around me, noises outside the window, not the immense silence of a desert night.
“Phoenix,” Mick said. “They airlifted you here.”
“Nash’s jail fell on me.” I remembered the ceiling coming down just as Nash was yelling at me, Maya screaming. “I bet he’s not happy.”
“He’s not doing well himself.” Mick gave me a grave look, any glint of humor in him gone. “Maya got caught in the collapse too. She’s not as bad off as you were—they took her to the clinic in Flat Mesa. Nash ordered the helicopter for you.” Mick let out a breath. “I thought you were dead when they pulled you out …”
His eyes filled with moisture and a tear trickled down his cheek. He only held my hand as though he didn’t notice, his fingers biting down.
“Maya was in my dream,” I said. “So was Drake … Is Drake all right?”
Mick shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t know what he did after we left him at the hotel. I haven’t been back there.”
“Call him.” I struggled to sit up, but I only came four inches off the pillow before dizziness sent me back down. “And call Cassandra. Tell her the mirror is in danger …”
Mick’s firm hand landed on my chest, though I wasn’t going anywhere. “You rest. If there’s a problem with the mirror, Cassandra will tell us. Plus, I have a piece of it with me.”
I relaxed, though not much. “Are you all right? In my dream, Emmett had a spell that split you in two—human and dragon, just like Drake claimed god magic could do. The dragon was pure animal, and just … flew away. You were left behind, but you weren’t dragon anymore.”
Mick’s look changed not to concern but interest. The tear remained on his cheek, but his eyes filled with the curiosity of his dragon. “A condensing and separating of essences. Hmm. I’ve never seen it done.”