One moment she had been bolstering her sister on top of a giant, and the next she was free-falling thirty feet to the ground.

She had no room to process what was happening as the ground came up quickly beneath her. Adrenaline made it almost impossible for her to think, her head pounding as the wind whipped past her.

And then she remembered she could teleport.

Milliseconds before hitting the ground, Leila disappeared from Ayers. Her flames tickled the dirt — that’s how close a call it had been. She picked the first place she could think of: the beach where they’d woken up earlier that day. She still wasn’t sure how her velocity changed whenever she teleported, so she picked a spot ten feet above the waves, hoping she wouldn’t hit them too hard.

She appeared above the ocean and slammed into the water, the built-up gravity from Ayers transferring to her dive. She plugged her nose as she cut into the icy cold surface, hitting it hard.

She went far, far into the waves, almost hitting the ocean bed below from the velocity of falling off the giant. It was a struggle to swim up for oxygen, and she practically choked for breath. She knew if she teleported from the bottom of the water to the beach, she’d have issues depressurizing. So, she swam up slowly, reaching the surface and sucking in as much air as she could through her coughs and splutters.

She paddled to the shore, flailing in her sweater and jeans. Every part of her body ached, her muscles screaming in protest. She would not be doing that ever again if she could help it.

By the time she crawled up onto the cold sand, she was exhausted. A child with a jacket and a glow stick who she hadn’t noticed before stared at her with wide eyes. Thank goodness it was winter, or more people would have seen her.

“Hi,” Leila croaked.

“Mooooom!” the child cried, running back up to the dunes.

Leila lay like that, gasping for breath, her chest heaving.

Bianca had pushed her off the giant. No, not Bianca, Cyrus. He was controlling her now. Bianca hadn’t been strong enough to overtake him, and now she was a part of his horde, too.

What do I do? Leila lay in the sand, waiting for a brilliant answer to appear, but nothing came. Her heart broke, wondering if Bianca felt the same pain Leila had from Cyrus.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen!” Leila suddenly shouted, hitting her fist into the sand. She didn’t care if anyone heard her. Their hours of training and preparation were for nothing now. They hadn’t anticipated Cyrus taking over Bianca, only Leila. They had no plan for this.

She shivered, her skin clammy and covered in sticky sand. This was an absolute low.

There was nothing to do but teleport back with her tail between her legs and figure out how to save Bianca’s life.

She had failed, both as a big sister and as this new, supernatural being who was supposed to have all this power. Leila closed her eyes and gritted her teeth, urging the flames to overtake her. Slowly, achingly slowly, the flames heated up her icy skin. She dreamed of Ayers, praying that nothing worse had happened in the five minutes she’d been gone.

When she opened her eyes, she was relieved to see the meadow less chaotic now. She had teleported back by the Esfandiaris’ car, bracing for a raging battle, but all she could see was Zahra and her family in an emptying field. Mohsen and Ehsan picked off straggling djinn in the high grass.

“Zahra!” Leila shouted. Zahra stood back with Tara, keeping watch for any new djinn. Cyrus was nowhere to be found.

“Leila!” Zahra said, her grim face relaxing into something that looked like hope. Leila tried not to let her heart belly flop at that sweet, tender look, but she couldn’t help it. Everything had gone wrong today, and it was nice to relish this moment.

“Where did you go?” she asked. “When Bianca pushed you… I thought… we all figured…”

“I teleported into water,” Leila answered. Thankfully, her flames had dried most of her clothes by now.

Zahra’s eyebrows rose. “That was smart. I wouldn’t have thought of that.”

Leila smiled, glad the darkness hid her skin’s flush. “Where’d all the djinn go?” she asked, quickly changing the subject. “Have you seen Bianca?”

Zahra shook her head. “We’re down to the stragglers now, but we haven’t seen Bianca or Cyrus.”

And just like that, Leila’s warming heart sank back into icy cold. Her sister was missing, and she was still controlled by Cyrus.

Then she heard it.

“Leila jan.” She didn’t need to turn around to know whose voice that was.

There stood her father, not more than twenty feet from her and Zahra. Next to him was her mother, the two of them standing eerily still.

“Dad?” Leila called out, rushing toward him. But then she stopped.

Her dad’s brown eyes were red. Same with her mother’s normally blue ones.

They weren’t her parents right now. They were under Cyrus’s control.

“NO!” Leila shouted. “This wasn’t part of the deal! You haven’t won!”

Her father’s face twisted into a sneer, and then, with horrifying speed, he began sprinting toward her.

Zahra waved her esfand mace, the iron chain clinking.

“No!” Leila shouted. “You’ll hurt them!” But her parents were gaining speed, her mother’s face manic with desire, her eyes practically glowing. What do I do? What do I do?

But Zahra decided for her, wafting esfand into her parents’ path. The two buckled over, choking, and Leila’s heart twisted as she retched. Seconds ago, they had been about to take her out. Was this a more humane way of dealing with them?

Ehsan approached, his face grave.

“I don’t understand,” Leila began. She couldn’t help it now; tears were streaming down her face, her body and soul so tortured over this turn of events that she had no idea how to cope without her sister, without her parents.

Ehsan looked at her sorrowfully. “Your father still hasn’t paid the price for his wish. Cyrus has your sister, but you’re still free. Cyrus can do whatever he wants to your family. Their safety is not guaranteed.”

Leila sank into the charred field at a complete loss. Her parents hacked and writhed feet away from her, and she watched as Tara solemnly placed iron cuffs around their hands. They stilled.

A cackle came from the edge of the forest only fifty feet from their group. There stood Cyrus, surveying the scene, his face triumphant. By his side was Bianca, her face empty, her eyes bright red.

“Bianca!” Leila screamed. She made as if to teleport to her side, but Cyrus held up a hand. “Not so fast, little Mazanderani.”

Leila heard the crunching of twigs and soft footsteps. Tara cocked her head, looking for the noise.

“Oh no,” Mohsen groaned. There, at the edge of the forest, stood the residents of Ayers, all in a long, silent line. They looked like a grim funeral procession. And every single one of them had red eyes.

Leila’s heart lurched. He didn’t. He couldn’t. They’d promised!

“This was not our agreement!” Zahra shouted. “The winner keeps the town!”

Cyrus grinned, his pointed teeth gleaming. “Oh, Esfandiari,” he spat. “Can’t you see I’ve already won?”

Leila was stunned. She had no idea how they were going to get out of this one. There was no way she could hurt her parents, her sister, her town. At the edge of the gloom stood Shivani and June, their faces slack, once again possessed. She spied Foster with his father, the two in ugly Christmas ­sweaters as if they’d been yanked straight from a holiday party. Teachers and classmates, store owners and parents — she saw them all, their spirits gone, their souls empty vessels for Cyrus to control as they silently stood beneath the trees.

“No, no, no,” she moaned.

Zahra looked at her, not sure what to do. “Baba?” she asked, turning to her dad.

Ehsan and Mohsen shared a grim look, readying themselves to fight. Tara took one glance at their posture and assumed the same fighting stance.

It was clear to Leila then: these djinn hunters didn’t care who they hurt, so long as they won.

Her feelings toward this town had become so complicated since she’d gotten this power. Ayers had been everything to her: her past, present, and future. But now it had shrunk to only a small part of herself. She still had so many places left to see, so many things she wanted to do. The thought of marrying Foster and starting a family straight after high school was laughable now, a distant dream she could barely understand.

In front of her stood something new and exciting whose twists and turns weren’t yet visible. There was nothing stopping her from running, from teleporting to some remote part of the world and starting over.

But she owed it to her town, to her people. It was her ­family’s fault this was happening, and even if her old dream was gone, she had affection for the place it started.

And suddenly, Leila knew what she had to do.

She made for her parents by the white BMW, her knees trembling.

“Leila? What are you — ” Zahra began.

She ignored her, focusing on her mom and dad, whose snarling faces were at odds with the love and care they usually beamed at her.

In that moment, she understood her father. He, like Leila, had been so sure of his path. He was going to leave Iran, see the world, and never look back. He’d never be tied down to a family, never struggle the way his fellow citizens did under a new, tyrannical government that he’d been born under. He was going to be different.

And then he’d met Alma, and his world had changed.

Just like Leila’s had.

“This ends now!” Leila shouted across the field. Cyrus looked at her, confused. Leila reached for her father’s hands, his grasping claws still shackled in the iron manacles Tara had placed there.

“Te quiero, Mamá,” Leila whispered to her mother’s feral face. Leila could see tears leaking out of her mother’s eyes, as if the real Alma was breaking through despite the possession. Leila’s heart broke into even more pieces.

Across the field, understanding cracked over Cyrus’s face.

“No, no, you can’t — !”

But Leila ignored him. She turned to her dad and gripped her father’s palm in hers, the familiar warmth gone. She looked across the field to Bianca, to her twin, who stood silently next to Cyrus. She felt the iron on her father’s hands that tried to block her escape, but she pushed through.

“See you soon,” she whispered to her mom.

And then Leila and her father teleported in a burst of flame.