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I looked over at Ember, who faced the back wall while whispering to herself and toying with her long dark braid. Ember had lots of imaginary friends who bugged her at the most inopportune times. I blamed my parents who’d stuck us in this cursed, dull forest for forcing my niece to make up companions. My sister and I had lived similar, mundane lives, even though as royal princesses we should’ve been raised in a palace with pretty gowns, exotic perfumes, and ballroom dances.
I sat up on my elbows, the top of my head nearly scraping the ceiling, as I looked over Aurora at her sister. “Em, who are you talking to?”
Ember stilled and then rolled toward me, her big silvery blue eyes reminding me of a frightened baby bird. “My friend, Auntie.”
I nodded toward the straw doll Ember clutched to her chest. “You mean, your doll?”
“No, not Bethamy.” She shook her head, pushing the doll behind her as if she feared I’d punish her little pile of straw with rags for clothes.
I contemplated burning Bethamy when she wasn’t looking, but she never let that doll out of her sight. Besides, Ember cherished that toy more than anything. I knew I’d never have the heart to destroy it. It would do no good to scold her for keeping us awake. She’d only cry, and she knew how much I hated her tears.
I heaved a sigh and slowly counted to three. “Please tell your friend you need to get some sleep.”
Ember shook her head. “She doesn’t want me to sleep. She says they are coming.”
“Who?” I asked, then scowled down at Aurora as she scratched at the side of her arm. “Aurora, stop picking your scab.”
Aurora pouted and scratched harder. “It itches.”
I grabbed her hand, forcing it to her side. “Leave it alone.” Frowning, I touched the scab, not liking how it was festering. The Tau stone my mother had implanted was coming loose. If Aurora didn’t stop scratching, the stone would fall out. Then what? This stone was what prevented my niece from accessing her teleporting magic. Last time she had the ability to teleport, she’d almost fallen off a cliff.
Her eyes watered as she shook me off her arm. “It itches real bad.”
“Okay.” I heaved a groan and counted to three again, something I did often with my nieces. “I’ll ask Yaya to make you a poultice. Can you leave it alone until I get back?”
“Okay, Auntie.” She curled her fingers into claws, hovering over her arm.
I knew once I turned my back, she’d start itching again, so I hurried down the ladder and then padded through the narrow kitchen across the uneven wood slats, guided by the light from the hearth’s warm fire. Once I reached my mother’s room, I rapped on the warped door. When my mother didn’t answer, I pushed open the door, surprised to see her lumpy feather bed empty.
She must’ve been in the outhouse. A shudder stole up my spine at the thought of going outside. I did my best to shake off my fear. Aurora needed me. I wrapped my cloak around my shoulders, put on my thin soles, and grabbed the lantern, lighting it quickly before hurrying outside. I hated going outside at night. The forest that surrounded our house seemed much more frightening, the trees looming over our small home like death’s shadows reaching their long, spindly claws into a grave.
I quietly padded across the hard, damp earth that smelled of mold and rot, trying not to draw too much attention to myself lest those shadows awaken. I was shocked to find the outhouse door open and the stall empty. Where could she have gone? I spun a slow circle. Immediately, my thoughts turned dark. How could they not, after what had happened to Tari? To make matters worse, my father, our fierce winged protector who had the power to summon a raging inferno, was still away trading with the nearby villagers. My mother should’ve been in bed.
But then I noticed the pigs were resting in their pen, the old dog slept soundly on the porch, and not a sound came from the chicken coop that was bolted down for the night. Surely, if something sinister had happened to my mother, the animals would’ve been upset.
“Mother?” I whispered into the darkness, dismayed when I was met with silence. Then I spied light spilling from the grain shed’s slightly ajar door. What was she doing in there? Had she a sudden craving for porridge?
I tiptoed toward the shed, surprised when I heard my father’s deep rumble and the rustling of his heavy wings coming from inside. He was home! My knees wobbled with relief. We hadn’t expected him back for another week. I thought about turning around and giving them privacy. Ever since that night Tari and I had caught our very naked parents tangled together in the grain shed, we’d known better than to disturb them after dark. It was the reason I had an aversion to porridge. I was about to turn around when I remembered Aurora. I couldn’t risk letting that Tau stone fall out. But I didn’t want to interrupt my parents.
“Fallax?” my mother cried. “Derrick, are you sure?”
“Keep it down, Flora!” my father scolded. “Do you want Shirina to hear?”
I froze at the mention of my name. So they weren’t in a compromising position. Why were they talking about the forbidden Fallax Islands, and why didn’t they want me to hear? When their voices went silent, I knew they were speaking through thought, a rare Fae magical ability fated mates, twin siblings, or mind-reading witches shared. Luckily for me, I was a mind-reading witch.
Though I knew it was wrong, I couldn’t help myself. I tiptoed toward the shed and knelt behind a pile of wood, wincing when the cold ground chafed my knees. I sent out a thread of magic, an invisible line that permeated the thin shed walls, and connected their minds to mine, enabling me to listen to their thoughts, one of my magical talents my parents didn’t know about, the other being my siren’s call.
How long ago was that?my mother asked, fear ringing in her words.
Yesternight,my father answered.I flew here as soon as I could.
You flew here?She gasped aloud.What if you were spotted?
Malvolia’s spies were too focused on Tarianya.
My world tilted and spun. I fell against the pile of wood, cursing when a splinter dug into my finger. Did he say Tarianya? No. My sister was dead. Mauled by a bear. That’s what my parents had told me. Why would they have lied?
You sure they flew to Fallax?my mother asked.The wyverns will kill them.
