Page 48 of Spirit Storm

I slide up and over the altar table, calling spirit fire to both hands. I target the one behind Henrik, incinerating it before it can reach him.

Then, when another appears, I spin and catch that one mid-flight. The heat of the flame is mixing with the icy cool of the frosty air, creating a bizarre fog.

"There are too many!" Orion’s voice is all growl as he swings, and his hand passes straight through his attacker. “We’re no help.”

Only Freya, Henrik, and I are having any effect.

“You three in the hallway unless we call for an evac.”

Orion and Rowan make a hasty exit, but Asher doesn’t budge. “I’m immortal, P. I’m not leaving you.”

No surprise there.

Another two go for Henrik, their claws raking across his shoulder before he can dodge. Blood blooms dark against his shirt.

Freya and I close in on his flanks.

“I think they’re targeting Henrik because he triggered the spell,” Freya shouts.

“Lucky me.” Henrik takes down his opponent, but he's breathing hard now. Blood runs from a cut on his temple, as well as his shoulder. Another spirit materializes behind him, and I torch it, but three more replace it instantly.

My back hits Henrik's. We're surrounded.

"Ideas would be great!" Henrik gasps.

"Working on it!" I pull harder on my spirit fire, push it out in a wave. It catches five spirits at once and burns them to nothing, but the effort leaves me dizzy.

“Too much, Poppy,” Asher shouts. “You’re burning out.”

Sure, I'm using too much too fast, but there are still a dozen coming at us.

“On your left!”

I turn, but not fast enough.

Its claws are inches from my face when Asher’s there. "No!"

His hands come up, and light erupts from his palms. It’s not offensive magic—it’s a shield.

A barrier of shimmering gold curves around me, and when the spirit's bony fingers hit, they snap and crumble to the floor.

Asher's eyes blow wide. "Holy shit. New power unlocked! Super shield!"

Another spirit lunges at me, hits the shield, and can't get through. I test the barrier from the inside, and my hand passes easily through. Then I pull it back inside, and the shield seals, leaving no sign.

Amazing. Blue flame ignites in my palms, and I begin torching the vengeful spirits once again.

“Poppy, help!”

I follow Freya’s call and curse. Henrik is down, and he’s being buried under a heap of spirits pouncing on him.

I rush over and pour spirit fire into the mass. There’s no precision. I just bonfire burn everything in front of me. Henrik is a spirit witch. The flames won’t hurt him, but the spirits shriek and dissolve to nothing.

But there are so many. Too many.

Freya and I fight through them together until the last spirit dissolves into nothing and the cave goes silent.

Henrik lies motionless on the stone floor. His eyes are closed. Blood pools beneath him, dark and spreading.