dust but no honeyed strands of wita shot out from my fingertips. Maybe they were there, just invisible. Unless this place jammed my dust, too.
Goose bumps danced over my skin as I scanned the desert of cacti and the baked earth below them. The high-pitched sound came again, accompanied by a beating of wings. I whirled, my heart spinning in time with my torso. Another shrill peep, this time from behind me. I whipped my head toward the sound, my mud-soaked hair flogging my cheeks. What was making that—I sucked in a breath when a fluted blossom detached itself from a bulbous green trunk and soared toward me, screeching.
Oh . . . Great . . . Gejaiwe . . .
Even though every cell in my body wanted to force my knees into a crouch, I balled my fingers and swung my arms. My fist connected with the shrieking flower. Yelping, I scrambled backward but lost my balance. My tailbone slammed into the ground with such force, birdies flew around my head.
Not birdies.
More pink blossoms.
I flung my arms out, batting the animate flowers away. One nipped at my ear, and I screamed.
What the hell! It had fangs?
Sweat drenched the back of my neck. The front of my neck too. Unless that was blood.
“What is wrong with you, Gregor Farrow?” I yelled up at the white sky, hoping my voice would carry through the portal and boom across Neverra. “When I get out of here, I will murder you with my wita. Then set fire to the thorny weed you’ll become again and again until nothing ever rises from your damn ashes!”
Another flower flew at my head. This time I punched it before it could make contact. More dove off the green cacti and launched themselves at me. One thumped into the back of my skull and flapped there.
Horror spiked through me as I realized it must’ve gotten stuck in my hair. I wanted to cry and cursed myself for not taking Aylen up on her offer to chop off my locks in a fashionable bob. Sweeping one arm continuously in front of my face to shield it from the harrowing flux of winged flowers, I bent my other arm and dragged my gloved hand through my hair, thanking the Gottwas’s Great Spirit and the Neverrian Skies that Remo had lent me gloves. When I got back to Neverra, I’d purchase an entire collection.
I finally managed to wrangle the flapping bloom. Although it pecked and poked and fought my hold, I squeezed. After several thunderous heartbeats—mine and the creature’s—the thing stopped moving. I kept squeezing it for good measure. Gritting my molars, I swung my other arm faster, shaking my head from side to side.
Something whizzed over me, something thick and green. I ducked, one hand still tangled in my hair, clamped around the (hopefully) asphyxiated creature. My stomach heaved at the thought that something dead dangled in my hair, and a cry escaped me.
More than one.
I sobbed out of frustration and fear, out of disgust and exhaustion. But then I remembered the green bat that had brought me to my knees, and I cranked my neck back in search of what had vanquished the swarm of rosy fiends.
Face still yellowed with mud, chest rising and falling as fast as mine, stood Remo, armed with a cactus branch. Blood beaded around his bare fingers, probably where the plant’s needles had punctured skin. While he scanned the cacti minefield for a new skein of evil flowers, I rubbed my face on my forearm, trying to dislodge the tears clinging to my lashes and curving down my cheeks before he could spot them.
Show no weakness, Iba was always telling me, or your enemies will use it against you. If we ever got out of here, Remo would probably start breeding these fanged flowers and train them to assault me.
When no new attack came, he lowered his makeshift weapon. “Are you okay?”
“Do I look okay?” I growled, still trying to untangle the inert bloom dangling in my hair.
New tears leaked down my cheeks. I was failing so hard at staying stoic. What a queen I’ll make. A sob grew and grew, expanding in my chest like a storm cloud. I would not let it out. I clamped my teeth. Instead of plaintive, my cry came out as a hiccupy squeak.
I sat back on my heels and lowered my eyes to my knees as I pried strand after strand off the unmoving thing, yanking out so