Page 149 of Axis of Fire

Spirits rarely gathered in large numbers without a reason.

The spirits I was looking for were called Raars.

They were something like house spirits, except Raars lived in groups of ten or fifteen at a time.

And they were frighteningly intelligent.

Their entire existence revolved around learning.

Books.

Conversations.

Labels on jars.

Forgotten notes tucked into drawers.

They wanted to know everything.

Raars adored reading.

In fact, they didn't even need to open a book to know what was written inside. One glance at the cover was enough for the entire story to unfold within their minds.

They didn't even need to open a book to understand it.

When I was a child, hiding in my parents' library, the Raars used to read to me for hours.

Sometimes a few of them would curl up on the shelves in my room, retelling stories they'd discovered that day.

The second the ruined backyard came into view—still untouched by anyone—I forced myself not to look at the pool.

Not at the red water.

Not at the bloody streaks smeared across the wall.

Instead, I searched for the Raars.

Unlike most spirits, they were easy to recognize.

Raars were flat.

Almost two-dimensional.

They looked like living stickers floating through the air, with tiny childlike bodies and star-shaped heads.

And every star was different.

Different color.

Different shade.

According to the Raars themselves, no two stars had ever been identical.

“What were they called again?” Gwen asked, crossing her arms. “Raars?”

Unlike me, she studied the destruction greedily, as though she could pull answers directly from the wreckage itself.

“Can you see them?”