CORA
In the Echo, every realm has a unique landscape. The Flight Realm has jagged mountains and pale sand dunes. The Float Realm has peaceful shores and treacherous waters. My original home, the Day Realm, is lush with thick forests, winding rivers, and a bottomless lake. Even the neutral territory, overpopulated and poverty-stricken, can be categorized as lively. It’s filled with colorful markets and schools for all ages, loud restaurants and businesses of every kind, winding neighborhoods and even community greenhouses.
The Night Realm is different. It reeks of death, particularly within the vampiric sector. The land here is unkempt and rocky, spanning aimlessly in either direction. There are no trees or plants for miles. Occasional clusters of buildings, oddly spaced and in different states of disrepair, are the only break in an otherwise grey expanse. Nothing here is measured or strategic. For a species that once terrorized the Echo, the vampires lack practicality and organization.
Perhaps this is why they fell so easily.
They were untouchable for so long, they didn’t realize how fragile their power was. They only needed cruelty and bloodlustto rule—until the witches, untilMadam Lyrie,destroyed them with a single, violent spell.
Cursed to burn in the sun, vampires lost their hold over the Echo in a matter of days. I’d only been a child at the time, but I remember how our entire world shifted. How we suddenly switched from being prey to ordinary people. The vampires could rampage during nightfall, but by daylight, they either cowered indoors or burned until only their bones remained
Sitting here now, sharing a table with three vampires, should feel traitorous. It doesn’t. It feels like relief and redemption, all at once.
“We’ll meet here,” I say. “Midnight.”
Amelia and Beatrice nod, but Milas shifts in his seat. They’ve already agreed to venture into the Day Realm with me tonight. The only reason we’re meeting now—in the minutes before Sebastian’s clan meeting—is so I could update them on my plan. But of course, Milashasto be difficult.
“We could at least?—”
I lift my hand, silencing him. I already know what he wants to say. He sits across from me in his usual place at the stone table. We’re positioned in the manor’s outside courtyard, surrounded by crawling ivy and a dying patch of grass. Overhead, the afternoon sun blazes, mocking those trapped within the manor walls.
Forget the betrayal of sitting with vampires. These particular three—and the two coming—can only be out in daylightbecauseof me.
“I’m just saying?—”
“Look up there,” I say, cutting Milas off again. Without looking myself, I gesture to the overhead windows, where undoubtedly, vampires lurk behind the protective glass. “Do you know how many of them wouldkillto sit where you are now? To feel this sunlight on their skin?”
“Trust me, I know better than you,” Milas says. His face tightens, even as his gaze betrays him. He looks up, eyes slowly shifting from window to window.
“You’ve already agreed,” Amelia points out.
At almost the same time, Beatrice releases an exasperated sigh.
“Cora needs witch allies,” she says. She taps her sharpened black nails against the table, leaning forward to steal Milas’s attention. “Sebastian will throw a fit if he knows her plan for getting them. He won’t stop it—hecan’t—but this will at least avoid the theatrics.”
Beatrice is right. Ever since Sebastian stepped down as king, making the four members of his inner circle his equals, he can’t squash all my good ideas. Hecan, however, be needlessly arrogant and vicious.
“All right, Milas?” Beatrice demands.
He huffs out a sigh. The nod he finally gives looks painful, and it takes all my effort not to smirk. Beatrice is unpleasant and obnoxiously brash. It’s why I appreciate her more than the others.
“We’ll tell him after,” I point out. “Once we’ve secured some allies, he’ll be too relieved to be angry.”
I hope, I add mentally. As much as I’d like to pretend I make sunwalker spells for the pure satisfaction of pissing off Madam Lyrie, that would be a lie. At this point, I’d be happier to pretend the Day Realm, the witches, and that horrid woman don’t exist at all.
But Sebastian saved my life twelve years ago, and I’ve been determined to repay the favor ever since.
I open my mouth to say more, but the tiniest shake of Amelia’s head stops me. Where Beatrice is blunt and cruel, Amelia is softer, more difficult to read. I pride myself at understanding people. Beatrice, for example, wants love so desperatelyshe makes it her life’s mission to convince everyone she doesn’t. Milas pretends to scout the Echo for the adventure—and for the vampires’ needs, of course—but I know it’s deeper. He can’t handle being stagnant for long. His soul is restless, as if desperate to find the place it belongs.
Amelia is different. Blurry. Whatever she wants in this life…it’s not clear to me. I’ve never cared to pry. I may be the vampires’ resident witch, but I am not one of them. They’ve all lived much, much longer than I have, and they’ll continue to do so, long after I’m dead.
Still, I’ve known Amelia long enough to read her body movements. That small head shake is a clear warning.They’re coming.
I don’t nod to confirm I’ve heard her. I don’t need to. It’s yet another skill I’ve learned while surviving in a house of the undead. Vampires noticeeverything. If I so much as nod when Sebastian enters the courtyard, he’ll sense the unspoken conversation. He’ll pry and demand, until Milas inevitably cracks.
I don’t say a word. We’ve already discussed everything we needed in the minutes before our scheduled meeting. They know where we’ll go, what they need to wear, and who I plan to recruit.
I only hope I don’t let them down.
