Page 79 of The Girl Who Inherits the Dead

“Oh hey, signal,” Chloe says brightly.

“It’s just Luis the scholar,” Gurlien says, screwing up his face. “Yep, the College is searching for us, reached out to ‘known associates.’”

Maison breathes in, deep, as if trying to keep himself calm.

“Looking for me, Chloe, a ‘tall blonde woman with uncontrollable powers,’ and maybe Frederick,” Gurlien continues. “Hey, you’re uncontrollable.”

“Thanks,” Delina says, and a scowl settles over Maison’s face. “So they’re unsure if you’re alive.”

“Apparently,” Maison replies skeptically.

“You should dye your hair,” Chloe suggests, and Delina isn’t sure if that’s the worst thing she’s heard or not. “That’ll throw them off. I cut mine when I left, they all knew me with super long hair.”

“Well, that’ll restrict our ability to get help,” Gurlien says, sticking his phone back in his pocket. “Luis says he’s gonna go dark for a bit.”

A bit away, probably a few meters deeper into the forest, a brief strike of terror grabs at Delina, then a death punches through her stomach, filling her lungs, striking her across the chest.

She reels back, shoulder thumping against Maison’s chest before she regains her footing.

“What was that,” he asks, abruptly, a hand gripping her elbow.

Delina blinks, then breathes out hard through her nose, resisting the urge to double over.

They’re all looking at her.

“Uh,” she says, at a loss for words, at loss for how to describe what just happened. “Um, something…died. Over there.”

Even as she points, the picture firms up in her mind. A small mammal, a chipmunk or something, struck by a bird ofprey, rapidly moving through the air until the distance grows, lessening the punch.

Though her eyes still water.

“Jeez,” Gurlien mutters. “Talk about passive perception.”

“Were you actively scanning?” Chloe asks curious, as Delina shakes her head. “You could just…tell?”

“Apparently,” Delina replies, and she can feel the beat of the wings of the bird flying away in her heart. “Small animal got grabbed by a hawk, I think. Died really quick.”

“Could you tell,” Gurlien asks Maison, “when she could? Any flares?”

“No flares,” Maison responds, and his hand is tight on her elbow, comforting. “Was about as bright as a normal scan, just all of the sudden.”

She twists to look at him, and his eyes glow red.

“You okay?” he asks, voice quiet, like it’s just for her.

She nods, swallowing, making sure she’s steady. “Just…startling.”

His jaw clenches, but he nods back, releasing her elbow. “Tell me if you need anything.”

It’s a strange thing to offer after the last few days, but she just breathes out of her nose again, hard, as if that could get the stink of it out of her system.

The restof the walk is easy by comparison, but the lingering death sticks in the back of her mind like a loose tooth, and the hush hangs over the group as they approach the bunker.

It’s nothing more than a door nestled into the side of a hill, abrupt in the woods, no pathway leading towards it or away.

“Oh, it’s a boring one,” Gurlien says, even as Chloe bounces on her toes as she inspects it. “There’s not even any booby traps.”

“There doesn’t have to be booby traps for it to be exciting,” Chloe replies, barely paying him attention. “There’s three locking mechanisms alone!”

---