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“Maybe I should help,” Emil whispers. “They’re here for us.”
“They’re here for me. I’m the one who killed Luna.”
I should be brave and turn myself in so the other patients don’t get hurt. Even though I already know I’m dying, I don’t have it in me. My time is running out, and I want as much of it as possible. The stars didn’t give me the powers I wanted to protect the people, so everyone can be their own hero.
There’s a bang outside the door. Two bangs, three bangs, four bangs. Have the acolytes found us? Something smashes outside. The door opens and hallway lights spill into the entrance for a moment before closing again. There are light footsteps roaming the room.
“Tsk, tsk,” a man says with a slight hiss.
I pointlessly mouth Stanton’s name to Emil, but he should recognize the voice of the specter with basilisk blood too. Terror reawakens within me from being held captive by Stanton. He’s so strong and vicious. He only kept me alive so he could use me to send a signal to Emil, who’d flown away with the urn containing the ghosts of Luna’s parents. But that doesn’t mean he went easy on me. He strangled me and beat me unconscious. I didn’t hesitate to give him my password so he could upload that video for Emil on my own YouTube channel. I didn’t want to risk extra torture. Now he’s found me again, and I don’t think he’ll be keeping me alive this time.
If I had a wand, I would blast him in the heart.
If I had powers, I would set him ablaze.
I concentrate and stare at my palm. I’m hoping fear will trigger my powers the way it did Emil’s. But I’m still cloaked in darkness without a flicker of flame appearing.
“Maybe, just maybe, they’re behind that counter,” Stanton teases.
Emil pins me against the counter.
“He obviously knows we’re here,” I whisper. “Why am I even whispering?” I ask out loud and stand. “You found us.” I can’t make him out in the shadows. “You can go ahead and turn on the lights.”
“What’s wrong? Can’t see in the dark or sense your prey’s heartbeat? Their scent? I bet you’re wishing Luna needed basilisk blood for the powers you stole from her,” Stanton says from the far right corner of the room.
“I didn’t get any powers. It was all a bust.”
“Luna will be happy to hear that,” Stanton’s voice says from the other corner.
“She’s alive?!”
“Hanging on there after some scum hit her with a cheap shot.”
“She told me I shouldn’t’ve missed in the graveyard. I was honoring her wishes.”
I’m trying to sound braver than I am, but I’m so nervous. Dr. Bowes shaking against the counter isn’t helping. Our greatest defense is Emil, and he’s not at full power. But Stanton is moving soundlessly, and we can’t try to beat someone we can’t even see.
“Some light,” I tell Emil.
Emil casts fire—and illuminates Stanton’s face right in front of us.
“Hello,” Stanton says. He grabs Emil by the throat and swings him into a glass cabinet that shatters so loudly it’s like someone shot a spell through it.
It’s pitch black again without Emil’s firelight. I don’t even hear him groaning. I got to fight my way to him. I scramble for something heavy to try and defend myself. I can hear Dr. Bowes running off toward Emil. She screams, and I realize she’s probably stepped in glass. Then Stanton’s nails dig into my shoulders and I’m hurled into the shadows; I can’t even try to brace myself since I have no idea when I might collide with something. I bang against a wall and crash onto a cart with loaded vials. The breath is knocked out of me, and I’m wheezing hard. Shards of glass dig into my arms, and thick liquids spill onto my hair like the stickiest shampoo. Sharp pain runs through my back and elbows. I’m dizzy in this darkness, and I roll onto my stomach.
Stanton presses his boot down on my neck. “There are so many ways to kill you before I bring Luna your head. Petrification. Poison. I’ve always been curious about reaching into someone’s chest while they’re petrified and ripping out their heart to see how much pain they feel. . . .”
He’s a basilisk that plays with his food. His only motivation is blood.
“I can petrify you and make you watch as I torture your brother. . . .” He presses down harder on my n
eck. “Or I can end you right now.”
The door opens, revealing a silhouette with glowing eyes. The lights come on as Stanton’s foot rises, and before he can slam it down on me, Prudencia telekinetically catches it. She’s struggling to suspend him. Her power isn’t as strong without the Crowned Dreamer. I roll a few inches, enough for Prudencia to release her hold. Stanton’s foot slams against the floor like a heavy step.
Stanton laughs. “You’re not strong enough to stop me.”
Prudencia telekinetically throws various instruments and shards of glass at him. His skin is getting cut up, and still he’s smiling with his terrible teeth.
