I shake my head at the helmsman and walk on. When at last I arrive home, it’s getting dark already. Our cottage is a shadowed silhouette against the three moons, and where the sweet aroma of Elara’s bakes usually permeates the air around it, all I smell now is damp.
My feet are heavy as I push open the front door. I’m numb. I climb aimlessly up the stairs to Elara’s bedroom. Each step is a crack of lightning in the quiet. This is torture.
There’s no point in delaying the inevitable. I already know what’s waiting for me beyond her bedroom door.
I take a shaky breath, mentally preparing myself. My hand trembles as it reaches for the doorknob and, with one final inhale, I quickly push open the door.
Breathe, Talia.I can’t. It feels like I’ve been running for miles. My lungs are empty, and my ribs are achy.
I gasp. Elara is not where I left her.Could I have imagined the whole thing? Is she going to walk through that door any minute, scolding me for tracking dirt up thestairs?
“Looking for her?” a voice says behind me.
I spin, and my heart lurches. A figure stands in the doorof the bedroom, features shadowed. I recognize those shaggy lilac tresses. The sharp set of his jaw.
It’s Taron.
A small figure is suspended in mid-air beside him. Elara’s body. She’s a mere echo of her former self, her once plump cheeks now replaced by gaunt hollows, and her limbs hanging lifelessly by her sides.
“What are you doing with her?” I tighten my fists, feeling my nails dig into the soft skin of my palms.
“Don’t you want your sister to be somewhere safe while you’re gone?” Taron’s tone is flat and emotionless. “We both know you can’t call an undertaker. That would arouse too many questions. You have a chance to bring her back, and you won’t be able to do that with the Principal Guard sniffing around.” It feels like a practised speech, as if his words have been taken directly from the Soulreaper’s mouth.
“Leave her alone.” I react instinctively, stepping towards Taron, furious negative energy gathering in my palms like lightning. But before I can reach him, something stops me, a force, like an invisible arm holding me in place.
Taron waves his hand, and the force increases. My feet are like lead, and the energy balling in my fists is redirected to the floor. Then I remember, he’s a Luna. His talents can manipulate gravity.
Taron gestures again, curling his fingers and thrusting his palm outwards, and the invisible force shifts to propelme backwards. I’m pressed against the wall. Powerless. Trembling. Sick to my stomach.
The negative energy dissipates from my fingertips, like a weapon sliding from my grasp. I strain my neck. That’s when I see the big, burly man step out from behind Taron. I recognize him. He was in Elara’s room with the Soulreaper when she was murdered.
He grabbed her…
“What’s the hold-up?” he barks, baring sickly yellow teeth that jut unevenly from dark gums. His coat is taut around his brawny arms, its buttons on the verge of surrender.
“I thought she’d want to say goodbye first,” Taron says.
The man snorts. He ogles me as though he’s offering me a favour, and gestures with his hand. “Go on, then. Make it quick.”
Elara’s form hovers in the hallway in front of me, the tip of her plait grazing the dusty floor. I find I can move again, only just. I reach out to her, and something inside of me breaks. Her hand is so cold. Tears are running down my face.
“We need to go,” Taron says, and I realise he’s talking to me.
I can’t speak. I give her hand one final squeeze.
The man now gestures, using his own Luna talents to guide Elara’s weightless body down the stairs and out of the front door.
As I watch my beloved sister disappear, it occurs tome – if we don’t win the tournament, this will be the last time I ever see her.
“Where is he taking her?” I collapse on the floor with my head in my hands.
“That’s nothing for you to worry about.” Taron walks forward and, to my surprise, crouches in front of me. Closer than I expect him to. He feels every bit as cold up close as he does from afar. “You’ll have your sister back once you make good on your end of the bargain.”
He stands and turns, pausing with his back to me. “Get some sleep. We leave tomorrow at sunrise.”
“I have a job…”
“It’s been handled.”
