I woke up sprawled on my back, feeling like a crumpled soda can—drained dry and stomped flat.

Something lay across me, weighing down my aching body. It was warm and fluffy as a cat but heavy as a tiger.

Cracking my eyes open was harder than curling a barbell.

I lay in a bed of green ferns. Tall, thick tree trunks with evergreen tops towered high over my head. Bright blue sky leaked through their rustling branches.

Where . . . ?

Boyfriend's orange-and-black face blocked out the light. He stared down at me with yellow hawk eyes.

My stomach clenched under his heavy ostrich foot.

He'd made himself the big spoon, arched around me with his fan tail swept across my legs and his head hovering over my shoulder. His sharp talons rested on my tummy, one sneeze away from hollowing me like a jack-o-lantern.

Boyfriend leaned in close and sniffed my morning breath. He licked my nose.

"Blugh." I turned my face away and played dead, too exhausted to move. The clouds in my heavy head swirled.

The last time I saw Boyfriend, we were fighting Crow together. And we almost had him, until . . . What happened back there? He tried to use my magic. And then . . . Did I pass out?

I flicked my eyes from side-to-side, trying to wring more clues out of the empty woods. Was it just me and him out here?

A twig cracked.

Boyfriend and I both snapped to attention.

Pine stood barefoot in the ferns, a spear taller than him clenched in one hand and a dented gallon jug hanging from the other. He stared at me, mouth open, like I was the one back from the dead.

Boyfriend tented me with his wings and hissed. His killing claws curled possessively into my T-shirt.

I sucked my stomach in. "Sleep." The word wheezed out of me, crackly and dry.

The raptor's talons instantly relaxed. His slender head thudded into the leaf litter beside me, and his ribcage deflated with a deep sigh.

The instant he went down, Pine tossed his spear aside, dropped the jug, and ran for me.

I tried to roll out from under Boyfriend's heavy, scaley foot. But I was so stiff, so bone-deep sore. And when I tried to prop myself up on my elbows, I realized my whole body was weak and wobbly, like I'd skipped lunch.

Pine dropped to his knees and shoved Boyfriend's deadweight off me. He scooped me up against his chest and carried me a few paces off.

"What happened?" I whispered. My mouth felt like newspaper. Tasted like it, too.

Pine didn't respond. He set me down against one of those giant tree trunks and propped me up between two roots that formed a sort of armchair. A firepit nearby gave off a wisp of smoke. My guitar sat in the brush.

How long had he been camped here? And these giant trees—they looked like something out of the Florida Everglades, not central Texas. Were we even still in the same state?

Pine lifted both hands, motioning for me to stay put, and rushed off again. When he came back, he had his new spear in one hand and the bent-up gallon jug in the other. The jug sloshed a little bit, and the sound made my mouth tingle.

"Can I get some of that?" I could barely scrape out the words.

Pine tapped his ear as he knelt beside me. He didn't have his hearing aids in.

I opened our mental link, and immediately, his voice was in my head, flooding our channel.

I felt you wake up. He cupped the back of my neck and lifted the recycled jug to my mouth. You need to drink.

The second the water touched my tongue, I spewed it out. It tasted like chalk and pond scum.

But I was so thirsty, my body just took over. I glugged a few deep gulps of that gym sock water before my brain kicked back in, and I shoved the jug out of my face.

The water here is awful, Pine said. But it's clear.

Welcome to Texas. I slumped between the evergreen roots, trying not to think about all the microscopic bugs swimming in that stuff. What happened?

Pine stabbed his spear into the trunk of the tree, carving off a slice of bark. But instead of splintering, the wood came off in a chunk.

He caught the lump in his hand and crushed it. It crumbled into red soil and spilled through his fingers.

"That's . . . ?" I looked at the fronds at my feet. The branches over my head. A beetle creeping through the weeds. A feverish chill tanked my temperature. "This is all . . . ?"

Crow changed the whole landscape, Pine said. I'm not sure where we are. I lost the others. I haven't seen anyone in two days.

Any fog left in my brain burned off instantly. "Two days?"

Except that bird. Pine shot a glare over his shoulder at Boyfriend, who was sacked out in a sunbeam. Once it found us, it wouldn't let me near you.

I looked around at the forest with fresh eyes, and the horror of it began to seep in, eating a hole through my insides.

Crow had set off my magic like a nuclear bomb. And that explosion of life had turned the Hemming's house into a green ground zero. How big was the blast zone? Did it stretch all the way into town? What all had been eaten up by this massive summons? Power lines? Water towers? Houses?

I was sick enough to throw up, scared enough to scream, guilty enough to cry. But I was so drained, all I could do was sit in the wasteland I created and stare straight ahead, washed in a deep, numb swirl.

This disaster was so enormous—so bizarre—so public. It couldn't be real.

Pine touched my arm. He might as well have passed right through me. But his voice cut into my brain, clear and direct. Drink. He was offering me the jug again.

I stared at the gallon. I really wanted another sip. But I also really didn't.

Pine gave me a sideways, sorry frown. But still, he said, You have to drink. And he waited.

I took another sip of creek water and slumped forward, hanging my dizzy head between my knees as I sorted through where everyone had been when Crow triggered the Boom. Martina. She'd been in the truck, driving away from the chaos. Dr. Jacobs. She was with Boyfriend, in the same room with Crow. Right at the center of it all. And . . . My parents. The fears spinning in my head spiraled into a vortex. Oh my gosh. My parents. I sat up and clapped my hand to my shorts, where my cell should've been. My phone?

Pine pulled it out of the back pocket of his jeans and showed me the black screen.

I took it from him and pressed the power button. Dead. By now, I bet his hearing aids were too. No wonder he didn't have them in.

I'm sorry. Pine said. I couldn't make sense of it.

I stuffed my cell in my pocket and slumped back against the curve of the tree. We probably didn't have bars in these woods. If we had service, somebody would've called by now.

We have to find the others. I lurched forward, trying to wobble to my feet. But I couldn't even make it to my knees.

Not now. Pine rested his hand on my shoulder. It didn't take much to hold me down. You need food and water first.

I hated hearing it, but he was probably right. After getting an A-bomb's worth of magic ripped out of me, on top of missing four or five meals in a row, I wasn't even sure I could stand up.

Pine got up. I'll be back. He threw some wood into the fire, stoking up a new round of flames. I'm not going far.

Okay, I said.

He backed through the trees like he was worried to take his eyes off me. You drink.

Okay.

I sat in front of the fire, watching the flames burn down to yellow coals and taking in the eerie stillness of the magical, prehistoric woods.

Those last few moments with Crow looped in my mind. Boyfriend crunching and slicing into him. Dr. Jacobs hammering him with the rifle. We had him floored. He was coming undone.

How did I let this happen?

Eventually, Pine came back to camp. He emptied his pockets in front of the fire, piling up a small mountain of clam shells in a variety of shapes and colors.

It's hard to tell what's real out here, Pine said. And sure enough, when he set them on the hot coals, most of the shells crumbled into river pebbles and grit.

In the end, only about twenty brown, tablespoon-sized clams passed the trial by fire. When the shells split open, leaking steam, Pine raked them out and joined me at the foot of the big evergreen to divide them between us evenly.

Or, almost evenly. I took two clams from my stack and dropped them on his side. You gave me twelve.

He put them back in front of me without a word.

A lump formed in my throat. I knew he wanted them more than I did. And I definitely hadn't earned them.

Pine threaded his fingers between mine and curled our fingers into a shared fist. You need to get strong.

"I was strong." My voice wobbled. "I thought I was." I tipped my head back, trying to soak up the watery blur in my eyes. "I threw everything I had at Crow. All my anger. All my magic. We had him cornered. But then he just"—I squeezed my eyes shut and scoffed—"flipped the board." I still couldn't believe it. I had no idea my magic could create, or destroy, this much at once. I didn't even know I could bring back plants. "Crow hasn't even had my magic for a week, and he's better at it than me."

Pine didn't say anything. But he didn't let go of my hand.

I had a whole summer of summoning training. I had the biggest dinosaur in Texas. I even had armed backup.

It didn't get better than that. It was the best I could do.

And still.

"He beat me." I whispered the words out loud, allowing the sickening truth to soak in. Hot tears slipped out the corners of my eyes and streaked down my cheeks. I couldn't hold them back anymore. "I gave everything I had. And I lost."

I slipped my hand out of Pine's and covered my face. And the tears just kept spilling, pooling in my palms and dripping between my fingers.

Pine pushed into my little nook between the tree roots. He wrapped his thick arms around me and pulled me in close.

"I don't think I can fix this." A shaky breath quaked through my whole body. I pressed my forehead against his chest, rocked by a fresh wave of horror. "I—I don't think I can get my parents back."

Pine tucked his face into my tangled-up curls and crushed me in a deep hug, like putting pressure on a wound. Like he would squeeze all the fear and shame out of me if he could.

I sagged into his shoulder and hid my face in his shirt.

After a while, when I ran out of tears and could finally match his long, steady breaths, Pine sat back and wiped my wet cheek with his big, square palm.

Please eat, he said.

I don't want to.

Please. He pressed me with an earnest stare. You'll feel better.

Pine had been with me from the start. He knew every mistake I'd made, every lie I'd told, every person I'd let down. And he had to know this was the end. But still, he made me hot food, and he gave me more than my fair share.

So, for him, because I was grateful, I ate all twelve of those slippery campfire clams. Each one was the color and texture of a not-quite-cooked noodle, with a swampy under taste.

When I swallowed, I could practically hear them plunk at the bottom of the deep, dark well inside me. And they didn't untie the heavy guilt hanging around my neck. But when the shells were empty and my hunger was gone, I had to admit. I did feel just a little bit stronger.

*

When I woke up the next morning, I still felt like a burnt-down house. Scorched. Gray. Crumbling. But today, I was solid enough to sit up on my own.

Pine sat a couple yards away, hunched over his knees. He paused in the middle of twining a few long strips of juniper bark into a string. How do you feel?

Bad. But better. I combed the leaves out of my dry hair and started twisting my curls into a French braid. What I wouldn't give for some bodywash. Or some toothpaste. Did you sleep okay?

He shrugged. Not really.

Sorry.

It's normal. My ears hum. It makes it hard to fall asleep.

Chirps and howls I didn't recognize echoed through the woods. I was scared to ask, but I had to know—How far does this forest go?

Not sure. I couldn't leave you alone. Pine glanced across the clearing, where Boyfriend still lay in the ferns with his head tucked under his wing. But if no one has found us yet, this place must be hard to get through.

We need to find some kind of landmark. Get oriented. I tied off my braid. Or at least get out of these woods.

I didn't know how I was going to find my parents now, let alone steal them back. I definitely didn't have the firepower to beat Crow on my own. But I wouldn't get any closer to them by just sitting here.

I got to my feet with a groan and tested a couple of steps. By the time I made it to my guitar, I was ready for a break.

Pine caught me before I could drop. You're not strong enough to walk, he said.

We can ride Sarsparilla. I pulled the guitar strap over my head. Cover more ground.

Pine gave me a long look, I guess trying to determine whether I was ready to travel. But in the end, he said, That could work.

Once we had a little bit to eat and drink, Pine put out the fire and got ready to leave.

In the meantime, I worked up the courage to wake up Boyfriend.

"So, here's the deal." I knelt down where he lay all curled up. "You can eat anything you want out here except three things." I counted on my fingers. "Me. Pine. Sarsaparilla." I swept my hand out toward the forest. "Anything else? Whatever. Law of the jungle. I don't care."

Unless we met another person. Then I'd have to step in. But I got the sense I was already pushing how complicated I could make these rules.

"Okay." I took a big step away from him and balanced myself against a tree. "Wake up."

Boyfriend uncurled with a lazy stretch and shook his feathery coat out. He stepped right into my personal space, way too close for comfort, and snuffled me all over, from the top of my head to the toes of my sneakers.

He's not coming with us, Pine said from across the clearing.

I pointed into the deep woods. I don't know what lives out there, but we're gonna need some protection.

He frowned and opened his arms. Then what am I here for?

As far as I was concerned, Pine had nothing to prove. He put up a pretty mean fight when he had to. But I'd also watched him get obliterated by an Acro. I wasn't putting either of us through that again if I could help it.

I summoned Sarsaparilla and kept him still and calm while Pine hopped on in front. He set his spear across his lap and helped me up behind him, and we set off in a straight line.

Boyfriend shadowed us from a distance, darting between the trees. He was scary-quiet. Sometimes I couldn't tell where he was until I asked him to check in, and he let out a short, sharp hoot.

As we wandered through the forest, I got a better sense of the land. Before the Boom, this used to be hill country. But now, the ground was scored with huge craters where large clumps of summoned trees had absorbed a radius of soil and bedrock to form. It created slopes and ridges that I doubted most cars would appreciate—even Dr. Jacobs' Dodge.

Fortunately, the Hemming's gigantic house was built in the middle of a lot of pastureland. So far, only sign of human life was a line of barbed wire fence. One of the evergreens had caught the wire in its branches when it exploded out of the ground, stripping a long line of posts out of the dirt and dragging them several stories high.

Here and there, an oak or elm had survived the Boom. At least the squirrels and birds didn't seem to mind the extra trees. At one point, I even spotted a calico housecat loafed way up in a tree, smiling like this was the best thing that ever happened to it.

But I also saw some stuff I definitely didn't recognize. Everywhere I looked, there were palm-leafed plants with scaley trunks that seemed like they belonged in the jungle. Once, I thought I saw a possum, until it shuffled into the light, and I realized how off color it was. And when an alligator shaped like a dog bounded across our path, pausing for just a second to take us in with yellow, slitted eyes, my stomach screwed a little bit tighter.

This is really weird, I said as it scampered off into the ferns. Even for me.

Now you know how I feel, Pine said, cinching a new strand of homemade string around his spear.

Suddenly, a whiff of magic in the air hooked my attention. I snapped my head toward the glimmer. Focused my sixth sense to a sharp point.

Sarsaparilla swung around like a compass needle, pointing the same direction.

Pine lurched in his seat, grasping for balance as Sarsaparilla started forward. Where are we going?

I sat tall like a rabbit listening for danger, straining to make out the source of that glow. I feel something.

What?

It's—it's soulshine. I felt the buzz of ancient memories all around us, in every plant and animal summoned during the Boom. But this was younger soulshine. Sleeping soulshine. Something that hadn't been shaken awake by Crow.

It's almost . . . I cut myself short. Narrowed my eyes.

What?

It's familiar. There was a trace of warmth in it. And a sadness. Like a song I'd heard a long time ago, or the smell of a friend's house. A memory hanging just out of reach. I don't know. I can't place it.

Whatever it was, it hadn't been disturbed in the Boom. And it might be the star I needed to guide us out of these woods.

So, I let its magnetic power pull us forward, step by step. And sure enough, in a couple of hours, the trees thinned out. The ferns disappeared. And finally, Sarsaparilla stepped out into thick, yellow grass, with Boyfriend hovering not too far behind.

A wrought-iron fence stood in front of us, shaded by old oak trees. The glory of soulshine radiated here like a sunrise.

Sarsaparilla stopped in his tracks—like he could sense as well as I could that this was the end of the line.

I slid off his back and approached the gate. And when I read the arch over the entrance, the whole world seemed to stop.

Old Hunt Cemetery.

I felt see-through. Weightless. Like the next wind that sent a wave through the tall grass would blow me away like dandelion seeds.

I'd read that name in an early obituary draft. Heard it whispered into the phone. But I never thought I'd set foot here. Not in a hundred years.

"There's no way," I whispered.

What's wrong? Pine said.

I heard my shoes crunch across the gravel. But I barely felt my legs move as I floated through the open gate.

Cecelia. Pine jumped off Sarsaparilla, leaving Boyfriend behind, and followed me in.

I drifted between old headstones, scanning the names and dates. Soft tones of soulshine—music I couldn't hear, but felt—harmonized in the air.

It was beautiful. Humbling. Like standing under stained glass.

But only one ray of soulshine had me by the heart. It was warm as cornbread in a cast-iron skillet. Sweet like the musk of boot leather. Safe as a handmade quilt around my shoulders. And I let it carry me forward—