I was relieved to find a note from my foster momsaying she was working late again. More time to figure out what I’d tell her. How I’d explain the ring.
Wild scenarios played out in my head as I pulled the covers up and settled into bed. By morning, I hoped I’d have a story convincing enough not to be deemed a thief, or a lunatic.
Eyelids heavy, my mouth ticked up. I had a feeling my dreams would be swarmed with rosy cheeks and feathery wings.
9
CARWYNN
HUMAN REALM—AGE 13
“Become exactlywho you were born to be . . .”a haunting voice in my mind echoed.
I shot up out of bed, panting.
The dreams started a couple years ago. Always the same two things over and over again—a pink, egg-shaped rock and a black box with gold carvings.
The first part of the dream, I’d spot the petal-colored rock in a cold stream, scooping it up in my palm. Then, I’d be thrown forward into complete darkness . . . but I wasn’t afraid. Slowly, gold light would start to glitter on a cave wall, revealing the dark obsidian box with gold markings. I’d feel atug. Grabbing the box, it’d slip through my fingers, falling. That’s when I’d wake up.
Tonight was no different—except that voice.
It was still dark out. A slight tapping had me turning to look out the window. Outside, the freshly bloomed red rhododendron scraped the glass.
An eerie chill pimpled my skin as an urgent voice whispered in my mind, “Run!”
I bolted out of bed, headed toward my foster mom’s room. The door creaked open, showing dark streaks smeared across the floor.
Blood.
There was so much of it.
“No!” My sob echoed against the floral wallpaper.
Then, a creak sounded from the kitchen. My breathing hitched.
“Run!” the voice yelled.
My inkling tugged.Hard.
I was bawling. It was a struggle to even hear my own thoughts.
God, what am I gonna do? Dead. She’s—she’s dead! Someone’s coming!
Sprinting out the back door, I headed toward the cemetery, side-stepping small gravestones. I used the back of my sleeve to wipe tears and snot away.
This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening! What now—what do I do?
The high-pitch squeak of the cemetery gate had more tears welling in my eyes.
No. Please . . . Please, no . . .
I fixed my sights on the mausoleum in the back, quieting my feet as I headed for it. Carefully, I pulled the door open, about to step in when?—
A large hand covered my mouth, painfully ripping me back.They pinned my back to their chest and a deep, sinister voice rumbled.
“It’s a human girl.”
They held me captive, but there was another crunching of footsteps growing near. That’s when I saw him—a tall man with a skeleton head. No, not a head…a whole face tattoo.
