Chapter One
Selene
“Doyouthinkthissafe house has Oreos?” My sister began searching through the old wooden kitchen cabinets as if the only thing that mattered was her Oreo addiction and there weren’t people trying to kill us.
“You’re worried about cookies? Right now?” I asked, my clipped tone making me sound like Mom. I winced. Mom was murdered two days ago and we had just arrived at the safe house.
“Not just any cookie.” She shut the cabinet door with a clank, the noise causing me to cringe. “The best chocolate cream-filled cookie to ever exist. But you already know that.”
I traced my finger along the bland wooden framework on the interior wall of the quaint cabin, ignoring the sting in my chest. Mom always had Oreos for us—mostly because Vivian had a deep, profound love for them.
“They’re even still delicious long after their eight-month shelf life,” my sister continued. She had her own way of mourning: hiding behind jokes, reciting futile information, and occasional sarcasm.
I stopped tracing the woodwork and examined my finger, which lacked dust despite no one setting foot in the cabin for months. Mom would take the trip once or twice a year to make sure the safe house was stillsafeand stocked. Any mediocre air mage—a magic user who manipulated the element of air—could create a spell to prevent dust from settling. Mom had been anything but mediocre.
A dull scent of smoke began to seep into the cabin, and I scrunched my nose at the invasion.
Then realization hit.
“Vivian! Quiet!” I ordered my sister in a hushed tone.
Viv twirled around to face me, openly offended and taken aback at the use of her full name. Her lips parted, likely intent to argue, but she didn’t get the chance as I yanked her to the ground. I motioned for her to stay quiet and follow.
We crawled across the Aztec rug until we were behind the countertop that divides the living room from the kitchen and pressed our backs against the wood paneling.
Rain pelted against the metal roof, masking any noise. Peering over the counter, I grabbed the monitor and pressed the side power button, but a black screen greeted me.
“You said you plugged it in hours ago when I was starting the generator,” I whisper-yelled at Viv.
“The cord must’ve fallen out.” She shrugged.
So help me… My sister was brilliant—when she wanted to be. I crawled to the wall where the charger was and connected it, gripping the edges of the small black monitor.
“Did you hear something?” Viv leaned over my shoulder, her silky black hair sprawling over the screen. “I don’t hear anything.”
“Smoke.” I brushed her hair off the monitor and pointed to my nose.
Viv lifted her chin, taking a big whiff. “It could be anything. People camp, and they usually have campfires. Wearein the middle of the woods.”
“You think there are campers all the way out here in the middle of the Venezuelan jungle, while it’s pouring, with a fire that is close enough we can smell it?” My lips pressed flat, letting my skepticism seep into my expression.
She must’ve finally understood because her eyes widened and she sucked in her lips. The monitor lit, displaying different camera views set around the perimeter of the cabin, but nothing could be seen. Smoke blanketed the grounds. It easily differed from fog, rising unnaturally in the rain.
“Shouldn’t the alarms have gone off?” Viv asked, eyeing the monitor.
“Should’ve.” The thought was unsettling. Even if the monitor was off, there were sensors throughout the grounds that would set off an alarm long before anyone got close. We had been careful getting to the cabin, just like Mom had showed us. After traveling by ferry from Dominica to the mainland, we journeyed the rest of the way during the dark and hid in an abandoned building during the day. Sighing, I set the useless monitor down. “Grab your pack. We’ll sneak out the basement.”
Viv crept down the hall. There was a good chance we were surrounded, but it was our only option. There was no way we could defeat the mage who killed Mom.
My throat clamped shut and my mouth went dry at the memory.
I grabbed my escape pack, which leaned against the back of the green couch, wincing slightly as the strap made contact with a small cut on my palm I had received from a piece of glass during the attack. The pack was our lifeline—not just clothes, but also passports and cash … lots of cash.
“Got it,” Viv whispered nonchalantly as she emerged from the hallway holding her pack, but the sweat on her brow told me she was just as frightened as me. The mage who had killed Mom was a water mage—or at least was a water mage before they went dark—and they bore a dark, inky circle on their palm. But if a dark mage was powerful enough, they could use all elements, just like the widely known, and extinct, ether mages. The more powerful the dark mage was, the farther the mage had slipped into the darkness, being eaten by an obscuring madness.
I gave our clothes a quick once-over, noting Viv’s deep blue T-shirt and black pants, and my army green T-shirt and black pants. We were still dressed for cover. The edge of the Aztec rug lifted easily, revealing a handle. Taking a breath, I lifted the hatch to the closet-sized basement that led to a narrow passageway. An old underground wine cellar waited on the other end.
“We have to be prepared, like they know about the tunnel and as if they’re expecting us to use it.” I tucked a loose strand of my medium-length brown hair behind my ear and looked back at my sister. “And Viv?”
