A Beautiful Dark

ahead, no one could catch up,” Ian explained. “We were all able to avoid it. It was unreal, how fast you were going. You guys were a blur.”
    “I got caught up with the challenge. Sorry I left you behind.”
    “Hey, you did me a favor!” He grinned reassuringly. “I’m going to see if I can scrounge up some hot chocolate or something for you.”
    That was Ian. Always wanting to provide comfort food and drinks. He headed for the door.
    “I’ll go with you,” Dan said. “Let Manning and DeNardo know Skye’s okay.”
    After they left, Cassie leaned in. “So what’s the real story?”
    “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
    “Come on, Skye. I’m your best friend. You have to give me something. ”
    I gulped. Could I tell her about the strange events? If I told anyone, it would be Cassie. But how could I begin to explain creating . . . holding  . . . fire in my bare hands? And the way Devin had seemingly healed my ankle with just a touch?
    Before I could decide what to do, the door opened and a nurse walked in.
    And I wasn’t sure why, but I suddenly felt as though it was the second time I’d been rescued that day.

Chapter 14

    S o let me get this straight,” Cassie said. She caught my eye in the mirror and turned around, mid-blush stroke. “You fainted in Asher’s arms, but you woke up in . . . Devin’s?”
    The sun had long since set behind the mountain, and we were back in our room at the lodge, getting ready for the campfire later that night. The nurse had discharged me from the infirmary a few hours earlier. When I didn’t show signs of anything worse than boredom, they’d sent me on my way.
    “I guess you could twist what I said so it sounds like that.” I grinned.
    Now I sat propped up by pillows on the bed, in softly worn jeans and a black zip-up fleece, watching Cassie line her eyes with deep brown liner. I didn’t know who she could possibly be getting so glammed up for—she hadn’t told me about any new crushes lately, and she was the worst secret keeper I knew. If Cassie liked a guy, we all knew it.
    “So?” she prodded. “Details?”
    I had hoped after the nurse had interrupted her that Cassie would forget she had questions. But I wasn’t so lucky. I thought of the snow falling away beneath my skis, the terrifying speed at which it had come toward me. Asher and our cave. The fire. Devin—healing my ankle with no more than a touch. It would sound totally insane to say all of this out loud. It was totally insane just to think it. I wondered if the trauma of the ordeal had made me hallucinate.
    I needed to find Devin and Asher. I wanted them to explain what was going on. But Cassie had morphed into a mother hen and hadn’t left my side since I was discharged.
    I smiled impishly. “There’s nothing to tell! I just blacked out when I fell, that’s all. I don’t even remember it, just that Asher was there with me.”
    “I’m calling your bluff,” Cassie said with a swipe of lip gloss for emphasis. “I’ll get it out of you, one way or another.” She laughed an evil-villain laugh, then giggled at her own ridiculousness. Cassie’s giggle was addictive—it had gotten us into trouble way too many times to count (in the library, in the back of class, during last year’s guest lecture on the evils of social networking). I was powerless to resist it—soon we were both laughing so hard it hurt. We were still laughing when we heard a knock at the door.
    Cassie got up to get it. Dan and Ian stood on the other side.
    “Oh, sorry, is this the wrong room?” Dan teased. “We’re looking for our other, cooler, sane friends.” His hair flopped into his face, and he brushed it back out again. Dan needed a haircut so badly it was comical, but something like that would never occur to him on his own. His mom would probably kidnap him in a week or so and whisk him off to Supercuts. Cassie sniffed and wiped away a tear, smudging her eyeliner.
    “Who gave you a black eye?” Dan asked.
    “Shut up, you’re one to talk. You look like a shaggy dog.” Cassie laughed, her eyes gleaming. She fixed the smudge as I grabbed our jackets from where we’d flung them on the edge of the bed and tossed Cassie’s at her. I was still ginger on my ankle even though it didn’t hurt anymore. Unbelievably, when I’d first left the infirmary it had felt fine—like I’d never sprained it in the first place. But it had been hurt. I knew it had.
    “So word on the street is