Page 10 of Shadows of Perl

“But why?” His eyes well with tears. “I’m really good, I promise. I can shift my whole face! Been practicing since I was eight.”

“And I could at six.”

His mouth falls open. His unruly hair covers his brow in bangs, and he wiggles one of his front teeth every few moments as if it’s some nervous habit. He just wants to do a good job. Make his House proud. Beaulah has indoctrinated him well.

“In an ideal world, you could use magic anywhere and anytime you want. But the world doesn’t work that way, Stryk. It can. But it doesn’t. Not yet. We’ve got to fix our reputation first.” I move his bangs aside to see him better. “That’s why you’re going to be such a good Dragun. You’ll help restore magic’s good name, keeping it away from the people who want to use it to do bad things. You think you could help me with that?”

“I know I can.”

“Then the future is bright.”

The boy blushes, and Yani pulls him to her.

When the library is empty, I feel for my brother again. These raids the Dragunhead insists I focus on are only so helpful when the future of magic hangs in the balance because of my brother, Yagrin.

And her.

But now this? Darkbearer descendants, organized and on the move. The Sphere’s condition is emboldening people. I tighten my core, close my eyes, and feel for him. But there is no fear churning in my gut, no sense of anything from her or him. The whiff of his location is gone. How close have they gotten to finding the Sphere these last few months? My hope has been that, if they were close, I’d feel it through my brother’s trace. I summon the cold, preparing to cloak. To Headquarters. I need to speak with the Dragunhead.

I must find Yagrin and Quell now.

Or soon there won’t be any magic to protect.

Three

Quell

“This is a mistake,” Octos whispers as he watches every corner of the forest behind the safe house.

“She’s written four times, Octos!” I shake a fistful of Abby’s letters that I’d missed at him and keep going. “Four!”

Crisp autumn air whips by as if it’s irritated, too. The truth is none of Abby’s letters have been very descriptive, and each was a little more confusing than the one before it. But the point of each was to ask me to meet her at the spot we’d arranged: a secluded patch of trees south of the safe house where Octos and I have been staying. Thankfully, the most recent letter suggested we meet up tonight.

“We’ll be back before Knox and Willam return. If you’re scared, go back.” I expect him to turn around. It isn’t his mom out there somewhere. But Octos shoulders his backpack, slipping both straps on his arms, and hurries to keep up. Afternoon sun weaves through the canopy, and all I can think about is my mom, where she is, if she heard about what happened at Cotillion, if she’s worried. If she could see how strong my magic thrums through me now, she’d see I made the right choice. She’d pinch my arm, smirk, and wink. She’d do that. She would. I blink to clear the tears forming in my eyes.

“If they find out you’ve shared their location, we’ll be looking for somewhere else to sleep tonight.”

“It wouldn’t be my first time.” I stomp ahead, keeping an eye out for a break in the trees where a small stream intersects with a slumped oak tree. Follow the water three hundred paces west. Then another one hundred south. Don’t lose count! My feet rush over the damp earthen floor, skilled at moving swiftly and quietly from years on the run, making myself invisible. Octos takes another strained look around but follows when I skip over the tree and turn in the direction of sunset.

“We really need to reconsider sun tracking the Sphere,” he urges.

I don’t respond. The moment passes and a babbling rush of water pulls us south, deeper into the forest. At one hundred paces, we stop. The air is still; the branches don’t move. Something shifts in the distance. A sudden twist of light sends a shiver up my arms.

“You’ve gone pale,” Octos says.

“I’m fine.” My insides are lead. “She’ll show.” After a few minutes, I knock two sticks together three times and wait.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Three knocks in return. She’s here. I tighten at my center, and a trickle of cold slides down the crown of my head. I feel for my diadem but there’s only hair. Abby doesn’t know I bound with toushana at Cotillion. She wasn’t there. When I saw her afterward, I hid my diadem and told her that I’d outed my grandmother’s secret to everyone. That’s why I was running.

I slip out from the shadows. “Abby?”

“Quell?” She steps into the light alone. Her dress is a deep purple with capped sleeves. Her cropped dark hair has grown out some, and she wears it tidy and pulled back in a low bun. Her diadem sparkles in the sunlight overhead. I race toward her with a hug. “I didn’t think you were going to show tonight either.”

“I’m so sorry I didn’t respond to your last letters.”

“It’s alright. Are you okay?”

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