Page 81 of Dark Shadow of Guilt

Brushing aside the momentary gloom, Lumia said, “Let us begin our adventures outdoors.”

Agreeing, they teleported from the house where he showed off by hopping atop a cloud. He zipped across the sky, performing acrobatics to gasped oohs and aahs. Once he drifted to the ground again, he smoothed the back of his hand along Lumia’s cheek. “You are paler than I remember. Null does not sit well with you. I wish it could be otherwise.”

“I wish the same, but such is not to be,” she said.

The day passed in pleasure. Melodia, flicking her long, red hair dramatically over her shoulder, sang a recently composed aria, her voice sweet enough to draw in low clouds to listen. Prima danced to her sister’s song, her moves graceful, her slender hands artful, her cool elegance giving way to emotion. Her feet glided along the ground, leaving it only when she leaped into the air.

He and Lumia applauded their Siblings’ talents, laughing. Though she had no artistic flair, with a sweep of her hand, Lumia called forth light and warmth, comforting their souls and spreading joy. That skill and her intellect were her gifts to others.

The four kibitzed, honoring Chaos and rejoicing about the past, the present, and the future. Snapping out her magnificent blue-hued wings, the color deeper near her spine, paler on the tips, Lumia suggested a race. They sprinted above a meadow of bright purple flowers, the OneCreator winning as usual, his wingspan the greatest. When he set down, bowing at the waist in victory, he glanced at his foot. He had cut it on a sharp rock. When it bled, he winced, unaccustomed to pain.

At the same time, Lumia smashed a hand to her chest. “I grow dizzy.”

Prima gasped, her lower lip trembling, her bronze wings as dark as her skin fluttering. “It’s time to go before we are too great a danger to one another.”

The Siblings came in for a hug, his arms tight around the sisters.

Pulling away, Melodia stiffened her spine, but a tear escaped Lumia’s eye. She said, “I miss you when we are apart.”

The OneCreator brushed the moisture from his sister’s wan cheek, his gaze mirroring a tragic reality. “Until we meet again.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Desperate, Praevusstormed out the door of his hideaway. He was restless, worried, and obsessed with the need to dive into a brain. Madeline had offered a challenge. And he’d enjoyed it. Tunneling into minds was addictive, hers more than most.

He craved the experience again. But no. He was stuck in a Razor Mountain cabin. Alone. Fading. No one to practice on. What he needed was leverage. Blackmail.

When buckets of rain fell from the ever-changing Angor sky, he scuttled back to the cabin, drenched, water dripping from his nose. Oblivious of the puddle beneath his feet, he snatched the cell phone from the corner table, connecting with Serita’s accomplice. No hello. No friendly greeting, Praevus blurted, “I can’t go on this way.”

At first, the guy on the other end didn’t answer. “What way?”

Praevus combed shaky fingers through his hair. “Hiding from the Feard. Worrying. Hungry to use my talent.”

“And what exactly do you intend to do?”

“I want my life back.”

---