“Agreed.”

We hadn’t made it even halfway down to the ground when another cold flash hit me. My next ability abandoned me, the power of witchcraft. I couldn’t mix a potion now if my life depended on it—which, down here, it probably did. Even if I could have remembered the spells now trapped behind a thick, impenetrable curtain in my mind, I didn’t have the magic to mix them. I couldn’t infuse life into the mixture. And without that magical spark, the potions were nothing more than glorified vitamin drinks.

But there was nothing I could do about any of that. I just had to keep going. Keep climbing. I stole a glance at the city—at the ruins, the decay, the broken barrier that we were supposed to fix. Somehow. The city looked so old in some places and yet so new in others. The monsters’ magic, the magic of the wilds, was a mystery. Sometimes, the wild lands took over quickly. Sometimes, their magic moved at a snail’s pace. The wild magic was unpredictable, uncontrollable. And dangerous. Most of all, it was dangerous.

Most of the decay was at the city’s borders. The inner sections appeared mainly untouched. The weather was just as chaotic. Hot, wild sandstorms raged along the eastern edge of the city, but the air was cooling fast as the sun’s final rays faded from the darkening sky. The sandstorm was becoming a blizzard. Tiny snowflakes fell onto the scorching sand. A layer of white flakes coated the ground. For some reason, it didn’t even melt.

Weather and magic were completely out of sync on the plains of monsters. Not long ago, the angel Colonel Leila Starborn had conducted magical experiments to correct the bizarre weather in the wilds. Maybe if she’d succeeded, she could have put the magic of the wild areas back into sync with the rest of the world.

Nero and I touched down on the ground. Sweat drenched his body, and I didn’t think it was from our climb down the building. This was Ronan’s potion at work. His muscles twitched. He looked weaker than I’d ever seen him.

“Are you all right?” I asked him.

“I must admit, after two centuries with my magic, it’s been quite a shock to my body to lose it. And to my mind.”

“I don’t feel so great myself.”

“You look almost normal. You are strong.” Admiration shone in his eyes.

“I don’t feel strong. I feel sick and weak. My head feels like it’s going to explode, and my stomach is twisted into a hard knot.”

“You are still on your feet. You’re handling it better than I am.”

“I guess it helps that I lived most of my life without magic. Losing it was not as big of a shock to my system as it was to yours.” I planted a big smile over the gaping hole inside of me where my magic used to be.

Nero wasn’t fooled. “The loss of that much magic is always a shock, Leda. You are handling it not because the effects of the potion are weaker on you. You are handling it because you are strong.” He set his hands on my shoulders and kissed my forehead. “And I need you to stay strong.”

A short burst of pain trickled through our bond, and then it was gone.

“You,” I gasped. “You’ve been blocking me. You don’t want me to feel what you’re feeling.”

“It’s better this way. I will not burden you with my weakness.”

I grabbed his hand and set it on my heart, a heart that ached for him. “Don’t hide it, Nero. Don’t hold it back. We’re in this together. Let me take some of your pain.”

“I cannot ask that of you.”

“You’re not asking me. I’m telling you. We’re stronger together.”

“Are you sure?”

“That I’m right?” I grinned at him. “Of course. I’m always right. I thought you’d realized that by now.”

But Nero didn’t laugh. He lifted his hand to my cheek.

Agony lashed out at me, cutting through my body. My legs gave out. The pain filled the wretched emptiness inside of me. Hot and cold, fire and ice—it boiled higher and higher, drowning me, swallowing me, consuming me. I couldn’t see, couldn’t hear, couldn’t speak. I could barely breathe. There was nothing but the pain. I knew with horrible, undeniable certainty that it would never end. I would never be free of this torment—not as long as I lived.

Leda!

There was only one way to end it. Death was an escape. The pain could not follow me there.

I can’t block it off. You have to fight it!

Nero?

I grabbed onto the sound of his voice, focusing on that tiny beacon of hope in a sea of despair. I could almost see him now. The pain lessened to a dull, constant ache.

“Leda.” His voice wasn’t only in my head now.

“I’m all right now,” I croaked, my vision clearing. The first thing I saw was his face. “I was just caught off guard. I…” I choked back tears. “I didn’t realize your pain was so…so…”

He touched my face. “I should never have let you feel that.” Frustration crinkled his forehead. “Now that I opened our connection, I can’t seem to close it.”

“Don’t try to close it.” I set my hand on his. “I can handle it.” I smiled at him. “I can hardly feel it anymore.”

“Leda, you don’t need to pretend with me. I know exactly what you are feeling.”

Like my soul had been shredded apart, then stuck back together with sticky tape.

“We’re in this together,” I told him. “And I’m not arguing with you. Yes, it hurts, and it sucks. If you really want us both to stop feeling this, then let’s fix the Magitech barrier and get the hell out of here. Where do we begin?”

“We will start with your cuts and burns,” he said.

I cringed as his finger pulled back the scorched corners of the big hole in my jacket.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you that it’s reckless to jump off of monstrous, fire-breathing birds?”

I put on a sassy smirk. “I distinctly remember you only warned me to stay away from giant thunder birds, not fire-breathing ones.”

Nero sighed. “You shouldn’t have shielded me from the fire with your body. My magic is stronger. You should have allowed me to shield you.”

“Nero Windstriker, let’s just get one thing straight. I might have lost most of my magic, but I am not useless. I don’t need magic to be a human shield.”

He set his hand on my arm, then he jerked back, like he’d been shocked. “I can’t heal you. I’ve lost that magic.” He looked so helpless, so lost, but he covered those emotions quickly. “I’ll use a potion.”

He reached into the potion pouches on his belt. He pulled out three vials—then he just stopped.

“Nero?”

“I can’t remember the spell.” He spun around and blasted away a pile of rocks in frustration.

“Are you finished?” I asked him.

“Yes.”

“Feel better?”

“A little,” he admitted.

Laughter burst out of my mouth.

“This is not funny, Leda.”

But I couldn’t stop laughing. Maybe I’d finally lost my mind.

“Are you finished?” he asked me.

I swallowed a final chuckle. “Yes.”

“Feel better?”

“A little.”

His lower lip twitched, and though no laughter escaped him, I could feel him laughing inside.

“Let me see your potion pouches,” I said, holding out my hand.

He detached them from his belt and handed them to me.

I peeked inside the pouches. “You can use the lavender and lily water to make a salve for the burns.”

“How do you know? Is Ronan’s potion not affecting you completely?”

He meant because I had light and dark magic.

“No, it’s affecting me completely. It’s blocked out the magic I gained from Nectar and Venom, light and dark,” I replied. “But I knew this recipe before I joined the Legion, before I drank the Nectar of the gods. My sister Bella used to make it for us all the time. I just don’t have the magic to mix it myself.”

Nero quickly mixed the two ingredients into a thick paste, which he spread across my burns. I breathed out in relief as my burnt skin cooled.

“I wish I could truly heal you,” Nero said.

Unlike many of the Legion’s favorite battlefield balms, this one wasn’t potent enough to heal my wounds instantly, but it did take away my pain.