SAFE . . . reyna ramirez-arellano

22 - campfires and caves

BRIAR WOKE UP cold and shivering.

She'd had the worst dream about an old guy with donkey ears chasing her around and shouting, You're it!

And of golden skin and feeling invincible as she walked into battle, killing everything in her way. But that dream felt like one she'd had before, and it'd unnerved more than the stupid donkey ears.

"Oh my fucking god." Briar's teeth chattered. She curled into herself and nearly cried.

"You're okay now." Jason leaned over and tucked a warm blanket around her, but she still felt as cold as a Boread.

She blinked, trying to figure out where they were. Next to her, a campfire blazed, turning the air sharp with smoke. Firelight flickered against rock walls. They were in a shallow cave, but it didn't offer much protection. Outside, the wind howled. Snow blew sideways. It might've been day or night. The storm made it too dark to tell.

"L-L-Leo?" Briar managed.

"Present and un-gold-ified." Leo was also wrapped in blankets. He didn't look great, but better than Briar felt. "I got the precious metal treatment too," he said. "But I came out of it faster. Dunno why. We had to dunk you in the river to get you back completely. Tried to dry you off, but . . . it's really, really cold."

"You've got hypothermia," Jason said. "We risked as much nectar as we could. Coach Hedge did a little nature magic—"

"Sports medicine." The coach's ugly face loomed over her. "Kind of a hobby of mine. Your breath might smell like wild mushrooms and Gatorade for a few days, but it'll pass. You probably won't die. Probably."

"Thanks," Briar said weakly. "How did you beat Midas?"

Jason told her the story, putting most of it down to luck.

The coach snorted. "Kid's being modest. You should've seen him. Hi-yah! Slice! Boom with the lightning!"

"Coach, you didn't even see it," Jason said. "You were outside eating the lawn."

But the satyr was just warming up. "Then I came in with my club, and we dominated that room. Afterward, I told him, 'Kid, I'm proud of you! If you could just work on your upper body strength—'"

"Coach," said Jason.

"Yeah?"

"Shut up, please."

"Sure." The coach sat down at the fire and started chewing his cudgel.

Jason put his hand on Briar's forehead and checked her temperature. "Leo, can you stoke the fire?"

"On it." Leo summoned a baseball-sized clump of flames and lobbed it into the campfire.

Briar looked down at her body. Her skin was tinged blue, not gold, like the dream. "Where's the jacket?" She asked, wanting to feel Reyna's presence around her.

"The jacket?" Jason frowned, and then he realized. "Oh. In Leo's pack. It's still wet—"

"Give me the fucking jacket, Jason," Briar snapped, taking off the blankets around her shoulders.

Him and Leo looked at each other before Leo shrugged and took out the jacket. Leo held it over the fire before giving it to her. Briar breathed in the scent, but Reyna's scent was gone from the water. Stupid golden skin. She put the jacket on anyway, and piled the blankets on herself. "Thanks," she muttered, and she would've meant it more had she not been so grumpy. "Where are we, anyway?"

"Pikes Peak," Jason said. "Colorado."

"But that's, what — five hundred miles from Omaha?"

"Something like that," Jason agreed. "I harnessed the storm spirits to bring us this far. They didn't like it — went a little faster than I wanted, almost crashed us into the mountainside before I could get them back in the bag. I'm not going to be trying that again."