Page 27 of Casting Butterflies

Worse than crashing into the ground?

I glanced at Misha. “Is there a spell I can use that doesn’t need ingredients?”

“Luxalis magic isn’t like the human version. It has no need of spells, as the caster shapes their intent with whatever magic they contain.”

“That’s not helpful. Tell me what to do.”

He shrugged. “I wish I could. However, I haven’t the slightest idea what you might be capable of, or if you can even tap the power of the Anivivi.”

My lips pursed. I knew I had only seconds to figure it out. I thought of Charlie, who’d explained she simply had to imagine what she wanted to make it happen, which sounded exactly like what Misha just explained. Could it be that simple?

I squeezed my eyes shut and thought of the plane, and the fact I didn’t want it to fall. Nothing happened, likely because my request meant halting gravity. Totally not feasible. What if I imagined the engines working? Could magic repair machines? Again, probably not. If only the wings weren’t affixed and could flap. Flap up and down, keeping us aloft or at least slowing our descent.

What I wouldn’t give to have working giant wings. Great big ones. Something to balance the weight of the airplane. Wings with enough surface area to displace the air and counter gravity.

For some reason, I pictured a giant metal butterfly in the sky.

Before I could snicker at the ridiculousness of it, my body turned cold, my head filled with cotton, and I passed out.

11

I woke. Not in a funeral parlor—or underground in a casket. Praise be! In a huge surprise, I appeared to be lying in a bed, looking at a plastered ceiling that could have used more sanding before being painted.

“She’s awake!” The yell by Cedric had me turning my head to see the feline perched on a windowsill.

“What happened? Last thing I remember, the plane was going down.” I pushed myself into a seated position and regretted it considering my head spun.

“We didn’t crash.” An obvious remark given we lived.

“How? Did the pilots manage to land us?”

“Not exactly,” Cedric hedged.

I frowned as my fuzzy brain realized, “I’m not in a hospital.” Nor did I feel any pain, just some weakness in my limbs and fuzziness in my head.

“No point since what ails you requires rest, not medicine.”

“Meaning what?”

Before Cedric could give me another useless reply, Misha entered. “About time you woke, Beavertail.”

“Excuse me for being unconscious,” my sarcastic retort. “Must have whacked my head or something because I don’t remember anything after you shot the monster.”

“Nothing?” He arched a brow.

“Would I be asking if I did?” I grumbled.

“You landed the plane.” An answer that made no sense.

“Sure, I did.” My snorted reply.

“He’s telling the truth, as farfetched as it sounds,” Cedric confirmed. “You managed to tap into Anivivi’s magic.”

“Really?” Totally awesome. “How?”

“In an irresponsible fashion.” Misha leaned against the doorjamb and crossed his arms, expression sour.

I didn’t let his demeanor bring me down because, holy shit, I’d saved us! “Did I cushion our fall or something?”