Page 66 of What Blooms from Death

“Really, I don’t.”

She opened her mouth to reply. A sound came out—not a voice, but maybe a whispered impersonation of one. Her inability to form words seemed to confuse her. And thenfrightenher. Her expression turned to one of pure panic, her eyes going impossibly wide as she looked around as though she had just noticed where she was for the first time.

“Are you okay?”

She dropped to her knees and started to claw into the ground, as if desperate to bury herself in it. Her fingers made little progress, even in the soft mud; her form was simply not solid enough to have much effect. This seemed to be a revelation to her as well—one that threw her into an even deeper panic.

I forgot about everything else—my wariness, my questions, my nakedness—as I rushed to her side, kneeling and placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Her body gave like clay beneath my touch, at first. But as I continued to press against her, she seemed to take on more of a definite shape, I thought. I might have believed I was imagining it, if not for the look she fixed on me—an odd combination of surprise, hope, and terror. She trembled like a candle flame caught in a draft. Terrified, yet she leaned into me, as if testing her solidness.

As my arms cautiously circled around her, the woven, diamond-patterned bracelet on my wrist began to vibrate. A stabbing pain struck between my eyes. I tried to blink it away. Instead, I blinked another scene into my vision—something completely opposite of my current surroundings.

I saw this girl…alive.

She was twirling through a lush green courtyard, laughing, carrying batons with ribbons tied on the ends. Dancing, spinning those ribbons to a wild rhythm. Her hair was bright auburn, her ivory skin covered in freckles, her green eyes even more dazzling in the light of a golden red sun.

And she had an audience: An older woman who was clapping her hands and laughing along with her.

An older woman who looked likeme.

Frantically, I pushed the girl away. I felt guilty as she looked up with confused, pleading eyes, but I couldn’t bring myself to take her back into my arms.

Because I was just as frightened as she was, now.

“Who are you?” I breathed.

She tried again to speak. Again, only hushed, whimpering, unintelligible sounds made it out. A single tear trickled down her cheek.

My magic was swirling to life, suddenly, lifting from my arms like fog over a pond in early morning. Anticipating. Expectant. It wanted to wrap around the girl, and I didn’t knowwhy,and I didn’t know what it would do—but I couldn’t stop it from happening.

The shadows exploded outward, striking her and knocking her backward. She curled up as they violently swarmed around her body, wrapping so thickly that I lost track of her within the blackness.

I desperately tried to control them.

When I finally managed to pull the clawing darkness away from her, the girl’s body had gone perfectly still against the muddy ground.

But that body was alsosolidand glowing faintly around the edges.

What had I done?

What the hell had I done?

Before I could work up the courage to get a closer look, the trees all around us began to shake.

Wind howled, and with it, they came like a violent, swirling river breaking through a dam—a horde of shades with hands reaching, bodies shoving, voices groaning.

I stumbled deeper into the lake, hoping against hope that the water might deter them somehow.

They hesitated only slightly as they slogged into it. Some didn’t even do that; their lower halves seemed to dissolve underneath the surface, but this only made them faster. In the span of a few frantic heartbeats, dozens of them were upon me, their faces twisting in and out of focus, as if they were trying to make themselves known—to reveal themselves to me—but they were struggling to keep their shapes among the disorderly tangle of magic and all their different energies.

I fought my way free, diving underneath the water where I knew I could move faster, trying to head in the direction of the shore where I’d last seen Aleksander.

Coming up for air, I was met by a trio of shades, their faces horribly clear: three thin, wailing women who looked similar enough to have been sisters.

I managed to dart around them and dive under the water once more. I was still far from the shore when I resurfaced, but close enough that my feet could touch the lakebed. My toes curled into the mud and silt, seeking purchase as I looked overmy shoulder and tried to properly gauge the number of ghosts surrounding me.

I watched as several stopped to inspect the green-eyed girl’s body before turning to me and giving chase.

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