“It’s been so long since they’ve had a visitor,” he continued. “And one with such sweet, sweet memories. Wouldn’t you like to stay with them, Maia? My ghosts. You could all be one happy family again.” He squeezed my neck, right where my pulse beat. I gasped. My heart stopped. Started. Beat. “Ghosts devour memories, did Edan tell you that? One touch, and they take away your past. You forget everything and become one of them.” He squeezed me tighter. I wheezed. No more breath. “Or should I keep you for myself? Demons devour you slowly, piece by piece, memory by memory. Until you are nothing.”
I was too weak to fight the demon anymore. My hands fell to my sides, limp and useless. But my scissors throbbed at my hip, and with one last spurt of strength I unhooked them and stabbed their blades into the demon’s heart.
He let out a gruesome howl. This time I didn’t linger. As soon as the demon dropped me, his terrible form peeling into smoke and his bones charring into ash, I was already on my way.
I picked up my dagger and careened down the tower, my feet moving faster than my breath. Ghosts began to rise, screeching whispers and taunts. The sounds chased me, so close that my ears rang.
The meteorite half of my blade glowed, and I kept it raised. Its magic was the best defense I had.
A ghostly horde waited for me below—all white hair and wet red eyes bulging out of their sockets. Their screams stabbed into my skin, resonating in my bones until I thought I might shatter.
I wouldn’t give in. I wouldn’t touch them.
I burst out of the tower, hurrying down the stone steps into the abandoned city. But there was no way off the island. There was nowhere to run. Then—
Edan. His great wings beat against the wind. Somehow, he’d managed to carry our carpet in his beak. Its weight hindered him, and he flapped hard to stay aloft. When he got close enough, he dropped it before me and squawked.
The carpet’s edges were frayed, and the rest was tattered and torn. I kicked it, hoping to awaken it. No good.
My fingers trembled as I took out my scissors and got to work, mending holes and tears to breathe new life into the carpet.Please fly, please fly.
Edan circled me, waiting with me.Oh gods, there is no way out of here. I could see the ghosts swarming toward me now.
Threads looped and knotted under my scissors. I cut and cut, as fast as my fingers could move. Behind me, the night had become quiet once more.
My fingers burned as I frantically knotted the tassels with the scissors’ magic. Finally, the carpet jerked to life. I bolted onto it. “Fly!” I shouted at it. “Fly!”
It started to rise, but the ghosts were upon me. With a chorus of whispers and shrieks, they swooped forward, their long, skeletal arms outstretched. They were so close I could see the hollowness in their eyes. Their mouths hung open, tongues thin and long as a snake’s.
STAY, Maia. Don’t you want to be with your family, forever? STAY WITH US.
I swung my dagger in every direction, and for a while, it worked to keep the ghosts at bay.
But there were too many of them. I couldn’t hold themalloff.
Desperately, I dug through my pockets, searching for anything that might help. Pins pricked me, but I kept searching. My cloak pocket, my tunic. I was about to give up when my fingers brushed over a walnut—the one storing sunshine.
Hope sprang, then courage.
I ripped a piece of my sleeve off and hurriedly tied it over my eyes. Then I squeezed them shut and pinched the shell open. The briefest second had to be enough.
Sunlight exploded over the tower, and the ghosts screamed.
The carpet rose. I grabbed on to its threadbare fibers and hung my chin over the edge, watching as the Forgotten Isles disappeared one by one, like candles snuffed by the mist, until finally Lake Paduan was gone from sight.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
We flew until the next dawn, then landed in a clearing near the horses. The sky was a tumultuous gray, thick and pregnant with rain. But the young sun threaded through cracks in the clouds, and I basked in its watery light.
I had no idea where we were going, but I didn’t care. As long as I was away from that wretched island, I was content. Not even the sun, whose rim grew darker and redder by the hour, worried me. I would far rather face Emperor Khanujin’s wrath than the creatures of Lapzur.
Edan shifted into his human form, sprawled on the ground. His eyes fluttered open, and he bolted upright. “Are you—”
“I’m fine,” I lied quickly.
I wasn’t fine. What I had seen on that island still wrenched at my heart—Mama and Finlei and Sendo alive…I hated the demon for twisting my precious memories of them, and for reopening a wound I had struggled so hard to close.
A little voice inside urged me to tell Edan about my encounter with the demon: I could still feel his claws on my neck. Yes, he had touched me. But nothing had happened. I’d defeated him—his terrible howl still rang in my ears, the sight of his charred bones burned into my memory.
