I blinked hard, trying to shake it off, but the room swayed. My hands gripped the edge of the stool, knuckles white.
Then everything stopped.
No sound or motion. Just silence, like there was a glitch in my brain.
The clock was still, its pendulum frozen mid-swing. The house around me melted away, replaced by darkness. No, not darkness, space.
I was standing, though I didn’t remember getting up. Eleven stars circled me, glowing so brightly they left trails of iridescent light in the void. I reached out, and they seemed to respond, pulsing brighter as though they could feel my presence.
The air, or whatever this was, vibrated with energy. My whole body tingled, as though a thousand invisible threads connected me to the emptiness.
A voice, soft at first, began to hum in the distance.
“You’ll bear the Varethym mark until blood is offered, your fate to be sealed before the blood moon rises.”
The voice wasn’t one, but many, layered on top of each other, a symphony of sound. It was feminine and masculine. Powerful and it sounded real.
How could that be?
“Ignorance is the first mercy Vareth grants you, and the last you will ever receive.”
“What mercy?” I tried to ask, but no sound came from my lips.
The stars spun faster. Their light growing brighter, until it was almost blinding. The voice spoke again, louder now, shaking the space around me.
“The Mark is bound. The hunt has begun.”
The words echoed through me, burning like fire.
Pain exploded in my head, sharp and searing, right above my temple, as though the name itself was branding me from within. I clutched at my head, gasping as the heat spread, pulsing in time with my heartbeat.
Through the haze of pain, I whispered, and another voice, not my own, spoke,
“I am the stars. You cannot bind the sky.”
The stars froze. For one brief, perfect moment, everything was still.
Then it shattered.
The stars disappeared. The voice gone. I was back on the stool in the living room, the cuckoo clock ticking softly again. My chest heaved as I tried to catch my breath, with my hands trembling against my knees.
“Is this real?” The words escaped before I could stop them, my voice raw and desperate.
“Tilly, what did you say?” My stepdad’s voice cut through the haze, sharp and impatient.
“Snap out of it, lass.”
My gaze was hazy at first, and I panicked. Why couldn't I see? I felt the world slip back into place, and my stepdad swam back into view as everything disappeared.
There it was, the look of annoyance I had come to know all too well, a far cry from the pride that used to light up his face when I was a child.
“Nothing, I... I didn't say anything,” I stammered, hoping he would believe me, or at the very least, just let it go.
My stepdad gathered his luggage together in the hall and checked his airline tickets one last time as he prepared to leave on his business trip to New York. As he frowned over his itinerary and I noticed a touch of silver at his temples. It contrasted sharplywith his sandy hair and finely weathered looks. As always, he was dressed casually in the faded jeans and pullover he reserved for longer flights.
“Tilly, you haven't been yourself recently. Is everything all right at college?” he said, his blue eyes locking onto mine with a seriousness that belied his casual appearance.
“Yeah, everything’s fine. Why wouldn’t it be?” I said quickly. I couldn’t let him think I was losing it. He would think I was just like my real dad.
