Those Who Burned the Shadows

By M.V. Marguerite

Six months ago, Auria would have described herself as an unremarkably logical person with a sure future. But after she and David were handed catastrophic powers and the task of saving the world, she knew that that normality was long gone; especially after realizing shed fallen in love. Plus, who would choose being normal over the ability to wield earths most destructive forces?
Soon faced with constant danger from all sides, Auria realizes that maybe she would. Unfortunately though, thats a choice the Abyses dont get. Auria is convinced that the key to the dark enemy lies within the mysterious tunnels Joyce discovered near the Haripi Camp: those that can only be opened by the touch of an Abys. So once again, Auria and David begin to explore another unknown, learning more about themselves and the true cost of being an Abys.
Luckily, they are not alone. The imminent war is a menace to everyone who must choose between succumbing to the darkness or fighting for the life they wished they could have had.
But how much blood can be sacrificed, before the fight doesnt become worth it anymore?
How many times can you lose sight of yourself, before becoming completely lost?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Apr 17, 2014
• ISBN: 9781499003833

M.V. Marguerite

M. V. Marguerite is 15 years old and attends high school in Sudbury, Massachusetts. As the result of being an obsessive reader, she began writing at six years old and hasn¡¦t stopped since. She thanks whoever is reading this.

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Copyright © 2014 by M.V. Marguerite.

ISBN:      Softcover      978-1-4990-0381-9

      eBook         978-1-4990-0383-3

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Rev. date: 04/11/2014

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CONTENTS

LETTERS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

Letters

Dear David,

I send this letter with Xenophe and Haelioc, hoping it will reach you soon. It’s been almost a week since we left, and so many things have happened.

The boy released by the Ombras is, as we’d suspected, my brother. The Haripis found him not five minutes from their camp. I’ll tell you another time about the struggle it took to actually bring him into the camp (that’s right, they still hadn’t managed it by the time I got to him), but I’m running out of time, and Xenophe and Haelioc are about to leave.

I questioned Joyce the morning after we arrived. I tried to go easy on him because I knew it would be hard to think about some things, but the information I received was too important to miss. And he was extremely good about it; I’m so proud of him.

As I’d already guessed, the place where he, my mom, my dad, and your parents were taken is located somewhere underground. He referred to a door opening in the sky when the Ombras went in and out. He said they were kept in a large cage and fed rarely, and that there were other people who were deeply asleep and Dad wasn’t able to wake them up. He also said that a thing (without give enough information) came ranting and saying things like where are they? and I want them back very often. I don’t know what to think of it. But the last thing he told me was the most important: he said that once the Ombras opened the door in the sky and released him back onto the surface, he didn’t move. He just sat on the floor and waited to be found. And he was sitting five minutes away from camp when the Haripis found him. Which means he was either in shock if he ran away and doesn’t remember it, or that he’s telling the truth (which he is, and I’ll tell you why in a second), and we’re sitting on top of a nest of Ombras. I wasn’t sure what to believe, so I went back to the spot where they found him to look around.

I was able to find the door, which is actually a hole in the ground, which has to be opened by force. I was only able to find it by listening to a strange note in the song in my head—like a mistake. I know you’ll get very mad once you read this, but I dropped into the hole and followed along a tunnel that traveled beneath the floor of the forest. I followed the tunnel until it began to split off into other tunnels and then turned back because I didn’t want to get lost.

I think they’re everywhere, David. EVERYWHERE! They’re slowly spreading beneath our own feet, and we didn’t even know it. I want to go back into the tunnels. I think it leads straight to their nest. This is our chance to finally get some answers to our questions.

I have to stop writing. Haelioc and Xenophe want to be far away by nightfall.

I love you.

Auria

P.S. Anarc found Estelle in the end, and she says hi.

Dear Auria,

WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU THINKING? I swear if you do something stupid and don’t die, I’ll be the one to kill you first. So please, please, please don’t do anything stupid. As for the Ombras tunneling underground, it seems highly plausible. After all, they managed to stay hidden from normal people’s sight for so long. I’m happy your brother seems okay, even though I wish he’d brought better news.

Here we’ve made little progress. After reading your letter, I spoke to Absaroke about an important discovery and that my presence is needed as soon as possible, but I refused to say anything else. He says that for now he’ll only need me for maybe two more weeks, but he was vague.

In these past days, I haven’t really done a lot of training as we’d intended. The Birdmen all decided that they’d learn better by listening to my stories of the Ombras and how I describe their movements, appearance, and actions instead of any physical contact. After all, I can’t really teach them to fight the way we do. So they’ve taken to sitting around me all morning and afternoon, and usually long after dark, listening to me tell and retell some of our encounters. I’ve told them about when they captured us at school, the fight in Valley Oscuros, and countless other smaller things, like the near escape from the Ombras at the Blue Hills and our experience with the mermaids with Elcromis and Legi. It’s strange, and I’ll either be thankful for their decisions or regret it later.

Xenophe brought your letter to me as soon as they arrived. He said their trip was uneventful, but Absaroke later told me that they reported that the Ombras in Stonington are on the move again, this time towards the mountains—straight towards us. They say that it seems like a huge group, and it will take at least a month to move such a large number of animals across the forests and hills and marshes, but they will reach us, whether in a few weeks or a month, they won’t stop, and we know that from experience.

Lately I’ve been having weird dreams. I keep seeing jail bars, and now I’ve started dreaming about the person Joyce told you about, the one saying where are they? and I want them back.

Say hi to Estelle and Auden for me. I’ll try and reach you as soon as possible. Please, please, please, please, PLEASE don’t do anything stupid. Please.

Love,

David

David,

I’m having those same dreams. I can’t help but think this is a bad omen.

Joyce is back in great health. Auden says hi. Brettine, Romero, and Hawk were found not far from Stonington and have been brought back to the Haripi camp.

I’d really like to tell you that I’ve discovered the key to saving the world, but as you’ve probably guessed, I haven’t. I can’t stand this anymore. I think I’m going to go crazy. It’s been three weeks now, and things have only gotten more confusing. We can’t solve anything split up like this. I need you back. Tell Absaroke you’ve done more than enough.

I guess for now you’ll just have to miss all the fun (that was sarcastic if you couldn’t tell).

Aur . . .

The pen split and dark black ink spilled all over the table. I just barely snatched the letter away to save the writing, but the bottom edge was smeared in black anyway.

Dammit, I muttered, clenching my fist. I hadn’t even realized I’d been holding the pen so tightly. I growled and wiped my fingers on my pants, then covered the table with an old rag.

It was a bad pen anyway, I told myself, but whom was I kidding? It had been me. The strength in me was growing. The powers were growing. Physical feelings like pain and temperature were fading. I was changing, and every day it happened faster. Hopefully, it would be fast enough.

Chapter One

The flame on the candlestick grew long, then short again, then jiggled from side to side as a soft breeze blew in from the windows. Its tail of smoke rose a couple of inches into the air and then dissipated.

I rested my chin lazily on my hands and concentrated on it, trying to find its thin voice through the chorus of my mind. Soon the dark smoke began bending to the right, then downward, and then looping all the way up again, forming a circle.

Auria.

I blinked, and the flame glowed a dark green.

"Auria." Auden’s voice broke into my thoughts, and the thin smoke scattered again. The candle flickered red once more.

Yes? I answered quickly, sitting up.

Auden’s gaze was icy. Your thoughts?

Um . . . yeah. I agree, I said, folding my hands on in my lap. We should definitely go with that.

Barran’s council exchanged doubtful looks, and Effelan glanced around smugly. Auden pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes with a sigh as Barran smiled gently.

We were talking about the Birdmen and their proximity to the approaching Ombras.

Right. I paused, trying to think of an excuse to use this time but coming up with nothing. Sorry, I sighed, putting my head in my hands. Look, I must be tired or something because I can’t concentrate—

On anything, Auden cut in curtly. We’ve noticed.

Effelan coughed, and I turned to glare at him. What? I growled.

Symptoms of a cold, he answered in a low voice, but his dark eyes told me otherwise. He didn’t think I was cut out for the job. He didn’t think David and I were of any use. I stood up angrily.

Maybe you should take a walk? Olivia suggested quickly, tasting the sudden tension in the air.

A long one, Auden agreed. And don’t come back until you can contribute to a conversation.

Good idea, I said through gritted teeth, shoving my chair back under the table, wood clanking against wood. Maybe Effelan was partially right. Maybe I didn’t belong here, discussing strategy. I didn’t do well with long afternoons cooped up inside over a map; I belonged outside, figuring out the real solutions, like where the Ombras were and what they were doing. The chorus in my head grew louder, pounding through my mind like my pulse in my ears. I clenched my hands into fists and turned around.

In a blur, I was out the canvas door, down the main path, and into the trees. No one noticed anything but a slight breeze. I didn’t even leave footprints in the dust. I stopped when I was well hidden in the greenery and slowly unclenched my fists. My heartbeat slowed, but the songs in my head were constant, and I knew from experience they wouldn’t fade out unless I gave in to their demands.

~)(~

Once, I would have enjoyed the ticklish feeling I felt on my skin when sitting on lush grass. Now when I sat down, I couldn’t tell the difference between concrete and goose feathers.

With my legs crossed beneath me, I focused on the distant riverbank and rested my hands on my knees. At first, nothing happened. I sat so still I felt like one of the trees around me. Then, slowly but surely, the surface of the river began to bend. The water level went down as hundreds of little streams gushed out of the emptying bed. The chorus in my mind grew peaceful with the pleasure of being put to work. The rising water flooded the grassy slopes and climbed uphill until it pooled inches before me, forming a pool which then grew taller and taller until it became a wall of water. I exchanged a glance with my distorted reflection in the wet surface as the barrier piled higher.

It was a little trick I’d taught myself. I’d done it so many times that it no longer required any concentration, much less the need for me to single out the water’s song from my mind. I simply did it.

Suddenly, the wall of water toppled over and rained down on me: everything had its limit. At a certain height, my control over the water became too weak to maintain the unnatural structure. I grumbled as I watched it drain back down hill and into the riverbed. At least my chorus was temporarily put to rest.

You held it taller yesterday, Auden said.

I flicked a strand of drenched hair from my face. The water was already evaporating off my skin and clothes. Every day is different. It doesn’t always depend on me, I said. For a moment there was silence, and I closed my eyes. I knew he hadn’t left though; I could still feel his presence behind me.

How many rocks are there in a ten-foot radius around you? he asked quietly.

It took me barely a second to answer, Fifty-nine on the surface. One hundred and three if you go two feet underground.

How many blades of grass are you sitting on?

One thousand seven hundred and eighty-eight are touching me legs.

You’re getting stronger.

I don’t feel anything. The words escaped my lips before I could stop them. I opened my eyes. I know I’m stronger, but I don’t feel the world anymore. Except through the voice of Mother Flora, of course, but it’s different.

I’m afraid that’s what’s supposed to happen. I expect David is going through much the same.

I smiled softly. David was probably taking it so much better than me. I wondered where he was now. Actually, I always wondered where he was and what he was doing—if he was thinking about me. Without him here, I was completely isolated. I didn’t admit the feeling to Auden, and probably never would, but every day it was stronger. Every day the chorus absorbed more of my mind, more of my thoughts. More of me. At times, it grew so demanding and loud I thought I’d burst, and the only relief was to give myself up to it, to allow it to take control again. I was quickly becoming less and less human, and more . . . what? Tree? I laughed sarcastically, forgetting about Auden.

What? he asked.

Nothing. I stood up and brushed off the back of my pants.

Where are you going now?

I never got to finish my walk.

You’re going to the tunnels.

There was no use denying it. I fingered the knot of the cloak at my neck. Yes.

You shouldn’t go alone.

I think better when I’m alone. And I never go very far. I just explore a bit. I’ll be fine. I hoped he couldn’t see through the obvious lie. If he did, he didn’t say anything about it.

Try to be back before it’s dark. I don’t want to come looking for you instead of eating dinner.

I won’t, I promised again, and then I was gone.

I wasn’t really gone, but it must have seemed so to Auden. In just the past couple of weeks, it was as if I’d gone through a sort of metamorphosis. I’d become so fast that if you were lucky, you could see a blur when I ran. I could sit still for so long that some people claimed my skin took on the colors of my surroundings, like camouflage. I left no footprints in my wake. I’d last seen my shadow five days ago, but now there was no trace of that either. I could hold my breath for immeasurable periods of time without feeling the need for oxygen; Joyce had counted fifteen minutes before I’d blacked out. My vision had tripled, and now day and night made no difference to my sight.

I guess one day all those abilities would come in handy, but now they just felt useless, and rather annoying.

Except for when, thanks to my speed, I could avoid people I didn’t like. Like Effelan. That was wonderful.

At first glance, the clearing I’d ran into seemed like any other. A grassy area void of trees with a circle of clear sky above my head. But if someone listened carefully, it didn’t take Abys ears to notice the difference. No birds sang. No bugs buzzed. There weren’t any animal tracks either, only a collection of old human footprints.

It was ridiculous how easy it was for me to open the tunnel. All it took was placing my hand over the correct spot on the earth and waiting for the rest to happen. The catch, however, was that only I could open it. Barran, Auden, Estelle, and several others had tried, but to no avail. I suspected it was an Abys thing.

In fact, the reason Auden was never agreeable with the idea of me exploring the tunnels was just that; if I got into trouble and wasn’t able to get out, no one would be able to get in except for David, who was currently hundreds of miles away. I knew the dangers, but I’d decided long ago to accept them. They came with the job, and the job was now my responsibility.

I crouched down and rested my hand on the damp earth. Almost immediately the dirt began crackling, then falling away, creating a small crevice, then a hole, which gradually grew big enough for me to fall through.

I swung my legs into the ditch. Cold, musty air rose up, almost familiar to me now. Perhaps the biggest risk I ran when disappearing into the darkness was being discovered. We didn’t know how far away the Ombra nest was from the opening, or what would happen should the Ombras discover its proximity to the Haripi camp.

If there were any other option, I’d take it. If you asked Auden, he made it sound as if I enjoyed going underground for hours at a time. The truth was, I actually detested it, but it made me feel better than sitting around a table all afternoon. Something told me the answers to our questions were down there, whether I liked it or not.

And I didn’t know of a better place to start looking than their infested nest itself.

I leaned over, trying to see the bottom, but like always, all I could see was darkness. I lowered myself down until I was hanging by my arms. I looked over my shoulder, and then let myself drop down, landing without a noise on the moist floor.

The opening, now above my head, closed like a mouth swallowing a piece of the blue sky, extinguishing the only source of light. To me, obviously, there was no difference, and my eyes adjusted automatically. Behind me a tunnel ran southeast all the way to the end of my vision. I knew that if I walked along this tunnel for fifteen minutes, it would then branch out into three different tunnels. I’d only explored the beginning of the left and middle tunnel, but the one on the right was still unfamiliar to me. Today I planned to begin my way through that tunnel too, so I was equally familiar with all of them.

When I reached it, I began walking forward with one hand on the earthy wall. I didn’t need it; I could see perfectly fine even in the pitch darkness. And even if I couldn’t see, I could hear the songs of life in the earth around me, drawing a clear picture of the surroundings in my head. I stooped down to crawl under a thick root trespassing into the tunnel that the Ombras hadn’t taken care to clear away.

But then, as I began to get lost in my thoughts, I felt a violent change in state. The stale air around me felt tense, and as I began walking faster, it became hotter too. The heat was a small change, maybe half a degree every hundred yards, but I could feel it like someone pressing scorching coals onto my skin. This hadn’t happened in the other two tunnels. I moved lower to the ground and slowly crept my way forward, following the trail of heat and tension that was tangible in the musty air.

Soon, the tunnel reached a fork. One way, on the right, was the same size as the ones I’d been moving along in during these past weeks. The left one, however, looked more like a dog door than a tunnel. I bent on my knees to look through the small opening. The space was roughly one-by-two feet and went on for about five yards before widening again.

I hesitated and meditated on my options.

1. Turn around and go back to the Haripi camp. Put my songs to work again.

2. Take the big, familiar tunnel for a little while, then turn around and go back to the Haripi camp.

3. Take the smaller, probably more dangerous tunnel to the left but maybe discover some useful information. Hopefully come back in one piece.

I huffed and pushed my hair back.

As if there were really any other choice.

I lay down on my stomach and began to army-crawl through the small space.

Within a minute, I was already regretting it. The stench of metallic blood, which had been barely noticeable, gradually grew stronger, almost nauseating now, and the dirt was finding its way into my clothes and smearing over my whole body. The small space began to make me feel claustrophobic, and I took a deep breath of relief when I emerged on the other side.

I looked ahead in the pitch darkness, and after a pause continued to make my way forward. Maybe it was my impression, but it seemed as if the air was growing heavier, the molecules pressing together as if trying to form a barrier. As the pressure increased, the temperature rose along with it.

Aside from the small, claustrophobic entrance, there was another noticeable difference between this tunnel and the others. The ones I’d been roaming in for weeks had been crumbly, old, with tree roots and cracks and ditches littering the limited space. This reminded me more of a shaft for ventilation: the walls and floor were smooth, and my fingers glided along the moist surface without encountering any flaws in the earth.

Soon the bloody stench began to make me feel dizzy, and the tension in the air was no longer a source of discomfort but of incredible heat; a thick sheen of sweat glistened on my forehead. I pulled my hair up and pushed my sleeves above my elbows without dwelling on the fact that I hadn’t felt hot in ages.

I grew steadily uneasy. I could barely hear the song in my head, and its absence was unfamiliar and empty. I hesitated and looked back at the small opening I’d just come through. What if some danger suddenly arose? Would I be able to retreat fast enough?

I shook my head violently. Don’t lose your head, I thought loudly. And don’t be a coward. This is for the sake of the whole world—just be careful. I almost snorted at the voice in my head. Be careful was an unnecessary caution in my current situation. My ironic thoughts calmed me down, so I continued my advance, squinting to see if I could see anything in the distance.

I wiped dirt off my face and pressed against the sides of the tunnel while staying low to the ground. As I got closer and closer to whatever I was closing in on, I began fantasizing. I imagined finding our parents in a cage, breaking through the metal bars and helping them flee to freedom through the door in the sky. I wondered if Auden would still be mad at me if I managed to save them. I smiled as I thought of how Joyce would react upon seeing Mom and Dad again.

But soon the dark was so oppressive that it pressed against me like an extra skin. I wasn’t sure whether I’d want to find my parents here. I fought through the air around me as if I were swimming through a sea of mud. It was a frustratingly slow process, but I kept moving.

Just a couple of more steps, I kept telling myself. Just a little farther. For the first time since my body had started to change, I felt fatigue.

And so I began clawing my way forward, almost crawling along the floor. I wasn’t going to turn back now, not when I was so close. And then without notice, I reached the end of the tunnel. It ended like the edge of the cliff, its mouth opening over an immense cavern that continued up and down for what seemed like miles. It was so immense and the darkness was so thick and unnatural that I couldn’t see the other side or how deep the abyss was. I crawled on until my arms were tangling into the emptiness. I leaned forward as far as I dared to try to touch something. Maybe the depth was an illusion.

My fingers touched nothing except the inconceivable darkness. The hairs on the back of my neck stood straight as I sat back up and rested my filthy hands on my pants. Had I gone the wrong way? Was this a dead end?

I didn’t think so. This vast, empty space seemed like the birthplace of the tension in the air and the incredible heat. I hadn’t found anything like it in the other tunnels. I strained my ears for any kind of noise and picked up a stringy, weird sound.

It almost sounded like a gurgling, and then sometimes there was a liquidy pop, like molted lava. But if it were lava, there’d be light because there’d be fire. Was this it? Just a big cave? Normally, I’d have more resolve to stay and explore, but the heat was becoming suffocating.

I gave one last curious glance at the immense, empty cavern, then turned to begin my journey back. But in my movement, the edge of the drop crumbled like sand, and my foot slipped.

I yelled and wheeled my arms as I fell backwards. I barely caught hold of the edge, and in my state of panic, I reached towards one of the roots jutting out of the earth for support. My feet dangled beneath me into the darkness, and my heart was suddenly in my throat.

But when I grabbed onto the root it gave way, and I slid down the steep earth wall. I yelled and tried to claw my fingers into the wall, but it was no use. I quickly began to pick up speed, and I screamed as the earth I kicked up flew into my face, suffocating me. I thought I was going to fall forever.

But when the impact came, it was short and violent and . . . gooey? I was waist deep in a disgustingly warm mush, and suddenly the bubbling and gurgling sound was much louder. I was aware of shapes moving under the surface of the liquid. A bubble exploded next to me, covering my skin with its ooze and releasing an enormous quantity of foul-smelling air. I yelled as one of the moving figures began to make its way toward me. I couldn’t feel it in my head; it had no voice. I turned around and tried to scramble back up the earthy wall, but there was nothing to grip. My mind was silent. I was alone.

Calm down! I ordered myself, Think rationally. Look around. I took a deep breath and looked up. About three yards above my head a sturdy-looking root stuck out of the earth wall.

Without wasting time, I crouched, coiling my muscles like a spring, and threw myself upward, dislodging my body from the muck, which had already begun to crust on my skin, and into the air. But my legs weren’t as strong anymore; I just barely managed to grab hold of the branch with my arms.

I dangled for a long moment, gasping for breath, and looked down. The moving mounds beneath the surface of the liquid swarmed around the spot where my legs had been a second before. I could still see the imprint of my body: a fatal clue to anyone who happened to come by.

Ombras included.

Damn it! I cursed. I swung my left leg up onto the thick root and then pulled myself over with difficulty. In momentary safety, I huddled close to the earth wall and looked at myself. In my panic, I hadn’t paid any attention to the searing heat of the thick substance at the bottom of the cavern. I took a second to thank the Abys in me as bright red splotches of scorched flesh began to bloom beneath the layers of indescribable liquid.

I bit my lip and tried to stop my hands from trembling. At least I hadn’t broken anything. I covered my head with my arms as a small avalanche of earth crumbled from the ledge above, dirt sticking to my soft burns.

I carefully turned around to examine the wall behind me. I was lucky. It wasn’t going to be too difficult to climb out; the walls weren’t as slick as the part I’d slid down, and there were several other overhanging roots—hopefully as sturdy as this one.

Without a moment’s rest, I coiled myself as tight as a spring again and then propelled myself up the wall with all my remaining strength, aiming for a root not far to my right and about five feet up. I kicked off the dirt wall to give me better leverage, but I still landed on my stomach. The air rushed out of my lungs and I lay there, gasping for a couple of seconds, before standing back up and continuing my climb. The heat and pressure were quickly rendering my super-Abys stamina useless.

At last, I was on the last drooping root under the crumbling overhang. I looked down one last time and took a deep breath, praying that the ledge would hold my weight for the short time I needed to scramble back to safety.

I allowed myself a couple of seconds to lean against the wall, then took a step back, crouched down, and leapt into the air again. The thin ledge still ran like sand, and I scrambled onto the ledge with a rush of adrenaline brought on by panic.

I stayed there on my hands and knees, gasping and regaining my breath. If I could, I’d have laid down and fallen asleep right there. My eyes were slowly drooping, but I had to get out of the tunnels. I’d never spent more than two hours underground, but it felt like days since I’d seen sunlight. I’d lost track of time, and through the sleepy haze pressing against my temples, I wondered frantically if my absence had been noticed back at the camp. The heat and the stench were giving me a horrible headache, and I feared I’d pass out before falling asleep.

But I urged myself on and stood up unsteadily, making my way with one hand pressed against the wall like a drunkard. If I fell asleep here, no one could come get me. I tried to run, but my steps were horribly uncoordinated. If my mind had been clearer, I would have been terrified. As I crawled through the small underpass, the fatigue almost won me over, but I got through and stumbled on the rest of the way, telling myself that all I needed was to see the sunlight.

I quickly realized I was thinking incredible blasphemy. When I did reach the end of the tunnel and the door in the sky, it took more time to climb to the ledge six feet above my head than it had to scale the wall out of the cavern. When I finally managed it, I lifted a heavy arm and brushed the ceiling with my fingertips.

I closed my eyes as some dirt rained down on me and the door in the sky opened, spilling grey light on my face. My last, final effort was to heave myself up and pull my legs out before being trapped half underground.

I let myself roll onto my back and stare blankly at the sky. I felt a little better, but the fatigue I’d hoped the surface would heal remained. I wanted to sleep; every cell in my body yearned for it. I tried to remember what time of day it had been when I’d left the Haripi camp, but my mind was too fuzzy to even think. All I had the energy left to do was close my eyes and remember to breathe.

It was cruel fate that made it possible to dream through my foggy slumber.

Pain was all that existed, all that had ever existed, and all that would ever exist—long and scorching, unbearable. Intelligence hurt, it hurt my brain, and I screamed, but my voice was lost in the dark emptiness. I didn’t know this was why It had chosen me. It had told me that we would be the leaders, that we’d rule over our brothers and sisters.

At the time, I hadn’t understood the words It, Athme, spoke. The language Athme used was incredibly complex for our dull minds. I didn’t know what brothers meant. I didn’t know what sisters meant. I didn’t know what intelligence meant until the pain ended and the scorching fire ended, and then it was all light light light when Athme brought us to the surface.

It was almost too much, but my brain took it in, all the information and light—in in in, and I found that I could remember the things I saw and did and revisit them later, even if I wasn’t looking at them. My mind began to think of not only the things we saw but also the things we hadn’t yet seen. We developed tastes, only the two of us, the intelligent ones; we could decide what we liked and what we despised. We found we despised the dark. We found that we despised Athme. We found that we liked the sun, and we found that we lived underground, and so we couldn’t see the sun.

Athme told us we were to rule over the others because we were intelligent and powerful, but I didn’t like Athme. Our intelligence made us leaders, leaders of ourselves. Athme was no longer our mind and our master; pain had given us both of those.

So we fled, fled to the sun, and we hid, and we died, but we lived again, and we fought against Athme. Athme was mad. Athme wanted us back, but we never went back. We hid from Athme . . .

My own voice woke me up. My eyes opened and I gasped, trying to collect my voice back into my throat, to take back the loud yells. I sat up quickly, all of yesterday’s events crashing back into my mind like a door opening to the flood of thoughts.

Yesterday’s events? I groaned and rubbed my head.

The sky was a dim grey, and tinged with orange in the distance, a beautiful sunrise about to happen.

I shook my head as images of the empty cavern and the scathing liquid from yesterday swam into my mind. I looked down at myself. The burned skin on my legs had peeled off, revealing healthy pink, but I was still filthy and covered in dried blood. I pulled up my shirt, revealing sickly, puce-colored bruises just under my ribcage where I’d landed when I’d jumped onto the overhang. I poked them hesitantly, but thankfully, I didn’t feel anything. They were going to heal just like all my other injuries. I rubbed my head and racked my mind, wondering whether I should try and get back to camp as fast as I could or try and find a stream to wash myself first. Auden was not going to be pleased either way, and I was going to be in a lot of trouble when I got back.

But then, I suddenly felt five presences behind me. I whipped my head to the side just as Estelle ran out into the clearing.

Good Mother Flora! she yelled when she saw me. I found her! she yelled over her shoulder. He was right!

Go tell Barran! I recognized Anarc’s voice coming from deeper in the forest. Estelle ran to my side, her robe flying behind her like a cape.

Oh-my-god! she breathed, taking in my muddy form. Can you stand? Can you even talk? Oh my god! You’re dying. Anarc, help me!

It’s fine. I’m not hurt, I said as I tried standing up.

Don’t you dare tell me you’re fine! she said angrily, pushing me back down. The kitchen knife she carried at her belt glinted in the weak morning light. Do you have any idea how much trouble you’re in? she hissed. The whole village is searching for you!

Anarc stood in the background, surveying the trees around us.

What? I whispered, horrified. I’d expected Barran and Auden to have gotten worried, but the whole camp . . .

Yeah . . . huh you can bet your sorry ass, she continued. So you better have a good excuse, Ms. I-can-do-whatever-I-want.

I-I don’t really have one, I said softly. How long was I gone?

Joyce started asking for you about late afternoon yesterday. Barran sent scouts here, but no one found anything. Auden begged us to try one more time, and here you are.

Anarc jogged farther into the clearing.

Joyce, I groaned, bringing a hand to my forehead. How could I have been so careless?

The others have gone back to spread the news, Anarc said, sounding out of breath. Is she hurt? It was strange to see Anarc here, sober, with a mildly worried look on his face.

Estelle stood up. Not anymore. She turned to look at me again. I wouldn’t be worrying about Joyce. I’d be freaking worrying about Auden. He was so angry. And Barran—he’s sent out ten search parties. The camp has never been so empty.

I shuddered. I have to wash off; they’ll think someone’s attacked me if they see me like this.

No way, Anarc intervened. If they find out we didn’t bring you straight to the camp, we’ll both be relieved of duty on the spot.

You’d deserve it. Estelle glowered him.

He shrugged off the insult. We have to take you back. He leaned down and slipped his arms under my legs and behind my back.

Wait no— I started to protest as he stood up with me, but then I remembered I was in a huge load of trouble already and so decided to stay quiet. I put an arm around his neck and used the other to cling to the front of his jacket as he followed Estelle into the dark trees.

I gave up trying to come up with excuses when we crossed the cold barrier and stepped into the camp.

They found her!

She’s back!

Someone get Barran! As soon as the cloaked figures saw me, they started yelling at each other, crowding closer. Despite the terrible situation I was in, a little spark of warmth lit inside of me. Whether they were scared of losing me or my Abys powers, I never thought so many people could care about my existence.

What happened?

Where’s the Wind?

Estelle! Thank goodness.

As the crowd around us became bigger and bigger, I wished I had the power of invisibility.

"Where? Excuse me . . . move. Where is she?" I heard Auden’s angry voice come from the back of the group as he shoved past people.

Anarc put me down gently, and I think he whispered, Good luck, in my ear. I tried to make myself as small as possible.

Auden finally stepped into my view. He seemed breathless, as if he’d just run a mile to get here. As soon as he saw me, his eyes lit with anger. Damn you, Auria! Where the hell have you been? he thundered, as if he didn’t already know.

Then Barran appeared at his side, his Elvish aura a bit more ruffled than usual. Auria, thank goodness, he said, relieved, then turned to Olivia, always at his side. Olivia, please send out word for the search parties to come back.

He took a step forward. Auria, my dear, are you okay? He wasn’t afraid to put a hand on my shoulder, to come into contact with the foul-smelling substance all over my body, and it made me feel better.

I nodded. I’m fine . . . I just . . . um . . .

Later, Barran said, catching the hint. All that matters is that you are safe.

I swallowed and looked at the ground. I could feel Auden’s glare burning into my skin. I heard relieved breaths passing from lips to lips around me, and I was dragged into an ocean of guilt.

So much worrying . . . all my fault . . . I should have thought about what it would mean for everyone else.

Barran turned to Estelle and Anarc. Ceja, he nodded, and then paused when his eyes landed on her brother.

Anarc swallowed and stood straight, trying to look disinterested in what his leader had to say, but the effect made him look more like a lost puppy than anything manly. Singe. Thank you.

Anarc barely nodded, but Estelle glanced at me. No problem.

Everyone can go back to work again. Spread the word that the Abys has been found and go back to your guard. Thank you, everyone, for the immediate organization in the time of need, Barran said to the people around us, his musical voice creating an atmosphere of calm once again.

I looked at the floor as everyone lifted their hoods and slowly trickled away.

Auria, you should probably go take care of yourself and then go to Gledes’ tent. Joyce is anxiously waiting for word. I’ll be in my tent. Barran’s voice clearly said, I covered you now, but we still have to talk. My heart thumped unsteadily when I thought about Joyce, alone. What if I hadn’t come back at all? He’d have been left alone.

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

I nodded as Auden turned and stormed down the main path. I followed him wordlessly—better to get the lecture over with. As soon as I was in his tent, Auden turned around to glare at me. Would you care to explain where you’ve been for the past night? His voice was mild and controlled, which made it all the more terrifying.

I collapsed in a chair. I told you. I was in the tunnels, I sighed.

He cast me a sarcastic glance, then leaned forward on the table. Entertain me.

Is this really the best moment . . . ? I hedged, looking down at my disfigured clothes and blood and mud-covered skin.

Auden closed his eyes and covered his face in a show of exasperation, Don’t. Even—

I interrupted him wearily. I found a new trail. I followed it all the way down, and I found a huge cavern. Auden brought his hand away from his face to glance at me. I couldn’t see the bottom, so I leaned forward and kind of . . . um . . . fell in.

He stared at me for a second, and then looked like he was about to laugh. "You . . . you fell in?"

I glared at him. "No, I jumped in," I said sarcastically.

He looked at me malevolently. I wouldn’t be surprised. I looked at my hands, avoiding his gaze.

Auria, he called to get my attention. I looked up. Do you have any idea what would have happened if you hadn’t come back out? What would have happened to us? To David?

I flinched. Don’t tell him.

You can bet as hell I will.

I groaned. I couldn’t turn back, Auden. I just couldn’t. I swear, I think I’ve found something—something important . . .

"Something more important than your life? he hissed, slamming his hands on the table. Come on. Your brother has better judgment than that."

I leaned forward in my seat. I can’t just not do anything! You-you don’t understand! I burst out. I can’t sit still while time is ticking by! You of all people should know that! And all those stupid meetings—come on, you know I’m useless there. I don’t do maps. I don’t do cooped up all afternoon either!

Do you know what happens when one of two Abyses dies? Auden looked at me evenly. Was this really what we were still discussing? My possible death? Please. I was risking my life just by sitting there. We were all living on a goddamn Ombra nest!

But I didn’t say anything. I didn’t say anything because Auden was completely right. I was stupid and should have been more careful. If I hadn’t moved so close to the edge . . .

What? I grunted.

I don’t know. And no one that’s still living does.

~)(~

Before going to clean myself up, I swung by Gledes’ tent. I know I probably shouldn’t have shown myself in such a state, but I wanted to see Joyce and tell him I was all right.

As expected, Gledes’ eyes widened when she saw me.

Good Lord! I’d heard you’d come back, but, my dear, what in the name of Mother Flora has happened to you?

Just a little accident, Mrs. Singe. It looks worse than it really is. I smiled stiffly.

She pursed her lips. I really hope so. I couldn’t help but notice how much more lively she seemed recently. Maybe it was having Joyce around or having reconnected a difficult relationship with her children.

Is Joyce here? I asked. She shook her head.

I think he’s somewhere witnessing a Haripi apprentice lesson of some sort.

I smiled. Since his arrival here, Joyce had been smiled upon and welcomed everywhere. People liked to take him places and show him things, distracting him from the actual events that were befalling us.

Okay, I said, stepping back. I’ll go find him once I’ve cleaned up. Do you know if he was, um, worried, at all? I mean about me? I asked uneasily.

Gledes looked at me with her piercing blue eyes. I told him nothing, but your brother’s not stupid, my dear.

I know, I sighed, turning back towards the path. Thank you, anyways. For everything. I hoped she understood the weight of my thanks.

Once I reached the riverbank outside the camp, I pulled my clothes off and dunked those in first. I supposed the water was incredibly cold as I watched goose bumps rise on my arms even though only my hands were underwater. I scrubbed my pants and shirt against the rough gravel and then laid them out in the rare patches of sun on the forest floor before submerging myself.

Sometimes I wished I could have my feelings back. I still remembered the deep, cleansing chill that’d made my head throb when I’d bathed in a similar river closer to Stonington. Now I only felt background numbness throughout my whole skin, but I guess it was for the best.

I pulled my head under and raked my nails against my scalp. I stayed underwater for exactly five minutes and twenty-nine seconds, but then I began to see strange colors, and I pushed myself above the surface in panic, remembering that even though I couldn’t feel the burning in my lungs, I could still kill myself from lack of oxygen.

I’m more of a danger to myself than any Ombra, I thought as I pulled myself out of the river. My reflection showed my lips bright blue, and I scrambled with the song in my head to call the sun to warm my skin. It was unusually hard, just like the first time, but this time, the layer between the sun and me was not a veil of clouds but a thick blanket of smoke and other dark stuff I couldn’t venture into.

I found the only small patch of clear sky and bent the light towards myself, warming my skin and making the song in my head flutter happily through my mind. Sometimes I wondered if people could see its presence through my eyes. I certainly could if I closed them. Its music was like a river—or a storm.

Or fire.

That word, fire, always made the chorus in my mind glow with excitement, as if it couldn’t wait to get its hands on some. The attraction made me weary. Things could easily slip out of my control if I didn’t pay attention.

So, once I was dressed and dried, I sat close to the river, just to be cautious. Then, I held my hand a foot in front of my face, at chest level, and plucked that single, irresistible, constant note in the mind.

And the air around my hand caught fire.

I watched it, mesmerized as always, turning my hand slowly in the sunlight. It didn’t hurt; well, I guess nothing hurts me now, but it didn’t burn my skin either. It was as if there was a thin layer of protection between the flame and my hand.

Its music was alive and slippery in my head, constantly begging to be let loose, louder—dangerously so. I knew from experience that if I let it go a little more, if I only went as far as to bring my other hand to the flame, I’d lose control.

The first time I’d tried, its voice had