I didn’t argue, not wanting to waste time. I pulled on my boots, laces fumbling in my numb fingers. We each pulled on our uniformed cloaks and creaked the door open.
Once we were out in the corridor, I watched with wonder as the translucent woman floated down the spiralling staircase. I trailed after her, Riven and Dreya following silently.
The ghost led us to the main foyer of the barracks, but instead of leading us to the front doors, where I knew guards were stationed, it took us down a hallway I hadn’t walked before. Other corridors branched off in every direction, but the ghost glided steadily ahead, never hesitating. The orange flames of the oil lanterns guttered with each step we took, shadows dancing across the walls in shapes that looked almost human.
“Where are we going?” Dreya whispered.
“I don’t know yet,” I answered honestly. The ghost walked through the iron door at the end of the hallway, and I hesitated, before turning back to Riven and Dreya. Anytime I had followed ghosts, trouble had followed.
At twelve years old, before the bloodlettings began, it was this same ghost that had led me into the Dead Sea. Two guards had followed me into the waves to drag me out. Their blood boiled them alive while I watched. That wasthe last day my father ever allowed me outside the castle walls.
“I will meet you back in our room,” I insisted.
Dreya shook her head. “No, I’m going to make sure you stay out of trouble.”
I looked at Riven, determination shining through the bruises. He crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows at me. “Make me.”
I sighed, turning and opening the door into the frigid night air.
With no stars able to shine through the thick, oppressive clouds, the nights weredark.If I squinted, I could barely make out the thick copse of trees behind the barracks. The pulling sensation inside my chest peaked, a painful ache that I rubbed absently as I stepped into the thick white snow.
“Wait,” Riven murmured from behind me, disappearing back through the door. The sound of metal straining broke the silence of the night, and I gritted my teeth, worried someone would hear. Riven returned a moment later holding one of the lanterns that had lined the hallway, passing it to me with a proud grin. I turned back to the frozen night and held up the lantern in front of me.
The noncorporeal woman rushed towards me, stopping inches from my face.
I gasped, stumbling backwards. I tripped and landed with a wet thud into the snow.
“Are you okay?” Dreya’s concerned face appeared in front of me, unknowingly going straight through the woman.
Riven gripped my arm and pulled me out of the cold snow that had begun to seep through my clothes. “You looklike you’ve seen a ghost,” he muttered, a playful glint in his eyes.
“I’m fine,” I insisted. “I just tripped.”
The ghost turned, moving towards the tree line. I sucked in a breath as I started to follow.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. The gate stands in those trees,” Dreya said. “There will be extra guards because of the lockdown.”
“Then let’s not get caught,” Riven suggested, keeping pace next to me as we wound through dead trees.
The clearing was small yet seemed like a hollow gouged into the earth. As if some colossal beast had torn a crater in the forest and never returned to fill it.
Snowcapped pines ringed the perimeter, their branches motionless despite the sleet filled wind. Flurries of ice clung to our uniforms as we trudged through the thick snow. My thighs burnt with the effort to pull my boots free of the thick layer. The ghost floated above the ditch, watching me expectantly.
“Are you ready to go back now?” Dreya asked.
“I just need to see something,” I muttered. If I told her why I was here, she would think I was crazy. The aching in my chest had almost become unbearable with every step deeper into the trees. Mist crawled across the ground, pale as old bone, making it hard to see the bottom of the ditch as I leant over it.
Find the pieces. Find yourself.
The whisper brushed my ear, cold breath trailing over my neck.
The hair on my arms stood on end, but I took a step, unable to stop myself. Riven’s hand clamped around my wrist.
His fingers were warm, but his voice was low and tense. “Lyra, wait.”
I turned, searching his face. In the hollow beneath his lashes, something dark flickered. Recognition. Or dread.
“I just need to see what’s down there,” I whispered, throat raw. Dreya’s eyes darted nervously between us. “Something feels off. We should go back,” she breathed.
