As she works her way around the circle and closer to me, my own internal vibration intensifies. My fingers twitch, and I clench my fists to keep from reaching out to touch the energy swirling around us. My breathing comes faster, shallower.
The headmistress draws closer, only five people away now. Four. Three.
I can barely stand still. The power inside me churns, demanding release. Sweat beads on my forehead despite the cool night air.
Two people away.
One.
I can’t do this. I need to escape this pressure before I explode. I shift to step back, to move away from?—
A terrible screech splits the night. Something massive and dark plummets from the trees above, straight toward me. Before I can react, I’m slammed to the ground, the weight of the creature pinning me down. Hot breath pants against my face, smelling of ozone and something metallic.
The circle erupts in chaos as screams pierce the night. Colored lights flash as students scatter and summon their powers.
Massive talons press into my shoulders. A beak—impossibly large and curved like a scimitar—hovers inches from my face. The creature’s eyes burn with literal fire, its pupils dancing with flames as they focus on me.
This is it. This is how I die.
Not even half an hour into emergency witch training, and I’m about to be eviscerated by some magical beast.
The creature’s head cocks to one side, studying me. Then it opens its beak and speaks, its voice like stones grinding together. “A grave witch. This one more dangerous than the last.”
The crushing weight of the creature presses me into the hard earth, pinning me down like a butterfly trapped for display. Its massive talons impale shoulders with brutal force, piercing through my body, straight to the ground beneath.
I can’t move. Can barely breathe. The pain is unfathomable, and I scream as the creature shifts its weight and fiery heat sears my upper body.
The beat clacks its beak closer to my face, its gaze burning with ancient judgment. Its eyes are the color of glacial ice, withpupils that contract and expand like a camera focusing. “She carries the echo of a broken oath.”
The words reverberate through me, setting off tremors in my chest. I feel them more than hear them, like bass notes too deep for human ears.
Chaos erupts around us. Students scatter in all directions, their panicked cries piercing the night. Flashes of colored light burst through the darkness… magic exploding all around.
Orion shouts my name, but the sound feels distant, like I’m being held underwater.
“HALT!” Headmistress Briar has her palm raised as a rush of energy hits us like a pulse of power.
Her command ripples outward with physical force. Everything stops. The fleeing students freeze mid-stride. The flashes of magic dissipate. Even the wind seems to hold its breath, leaves suspended in the vortex of chaos.
In this strange pocket of stillness, only the guardian bird, the headmistress, and I remain animated.
“Speak, Guardian. Why have you assaulted this student?”
“She carries the echo of a broken oath,” it repeats.
“What oath?” I cry out, my voice thin and panicked. “What are you talking about? I don’t know what you’re saying!”
The creature responds by pressing down harder with its talons, and blackness overwhelms me, threatening to pull me into unconsciousness. The pain that explodes through my upper body is excruciating, and my powers vibrate violently in response. My shoulders burn under the pressure, and I swear I might physically tear apart.
“Stand down, Guardian!” Briar’s voice rings out, firm and laced with something more—a magical resonance that makes my teeth vibrate. “The girl is unawakened. She poses no threat.”
The bird’s head swivels toward the headmistress, then back to me. It hesitates, talons flexing. Then it pulls its curved beak soclose to my face that I can see my own terrified reflection in its polished eyes.
“Unawakened does not mean innocent,” it snarls, breath hot against my skin. “The mark of a demon clings to her bones.”
A spectral image flashes in the air behind the creature—translucent, shimmering, but unmistakable. A woman with my eyes, surrounded by writhing, twisted shadows, their ghostly fingers clutching at her clothes, her hair, her skin.
Mom?
