Storm of Locusts (The Sixth World, #2)

by Rebecca Roanhorse

One deep breath and I pull the sword free in one smooth motion. Lightning curls around the blade, sending tiny sparks in the darkness. Lightning wraps around my hand where I grip the leather hilt and lightning dances up my wrist all the way to my elbow. It doesn’t burn. It just . . . waits. It feels like contained energy, eager for me to direct it. Just like Tó said it would. I straighten and breathe deep as the energy flows through my body. I can feel my wounds knitting closed, my headache clearing, Gideon’s drugs melting out of my bloodstream. “Damn,” Rissa whispers, her voice full of awe. “You’re glowing,” Aaron murmurs. “Not just glowing,” Ben adds. “You’re on fire.” “Your skin,” Rissa says. I raise an arm and see that my skin has in fact taken on a deep blue glow. “And all the cuts are gone. Even your head.”