Page 16 of When the Wicked Sing
“Celeste?” she whispered, her throat tightening as she inspected the small room. The table didn’t have fresh herbs scattered all over it, which meant Celeste didn’t go picking before dawn.
Mariana’s heart began to race, taking ragged breaths. She hurried outside and checked the usual spots where Celeste might be. She searched the herb garden behind the house, the rocky cliff where she liked to meditate, and even the old willow tree by the creek. But Celeste was nowhere to be found.
Panic settled in as she returned to the empty cabin, the storm’s first droplets beginning to fall. The room felt colder, more desolate without Celeste’s presence. Mariana’s eyes darted around, searching for a clue.
The bed was unmade as if her friend had left in a hurry. Her heart pounded louder with each passing second. Then a paper’s edge, stuck under a pile of books on the table, caught her eye.
Pulling it free, Mariana frowned. It was a hand-drawn map of what looked like the Andros Islands. Several islands had circles with x’s drawn through them, except one near the end of the chain closest to the Southern Continent. She didn’t recognize it, but there were plenty of islands in the chain that she hadn’t explored. Was this the one Celeste had asked that fisherman to look into?
The sound of a door closing outside drew her attention, and Mariana dropped the map. Maybe someone knew where Celeste had gone.
Stepping outside, Mariana saw a little boy with curly black hair atop his head putting his boots on.
“Hey there,” she called softly, startling him.
The child stared up at her, eyes wide.
Clearing her throat, she asked, “The lady who lives here, have you seen her?”
He nodded.
“Do you know where she went?”
“She’s gone,” he murmured. “The ones from across the sea took her.” Mariana’s stomach dropped, her eyes going wide. Then he lifted a golden-brown hand up to his rounded ear. “They had pointed ears like yours.”
Mariana’s body went ice cold. She lifted her shaky hands to her mouth, muffling a gasp.
The culling.
“No,” she whispered.
The culling was last night.
“Are you a sea goddess?” the boy asked, and Mariana squeezed her blurring eyes shut, shaking her head.
Without another word, she turned around and ran toward the beach, unable to believe her mother would betray her that way. How could Cybele allow the culling to take place at Egan Village? Had she found out Mariana had been visiting Celeste?
Was this all because of her?
Tears flooded her eyes, spilling down her cheeks as she stumbled. Her knees hit the sand, and a sob escaped her chest.
She couldn’t be gone. She—
“Wait! Storm’s coming! You shouldn’t be out there,” the boy shouted from behind her. The innocent concern twisted the knife already lodged in her chest.
“Let the lightning come,” she whispered, pulling her knees to her chest, resting her chin on them as she stared out at the dark, churning sea, praying to the Goddess that Celeste hadn’t felt a thing.
A gust of chilled wind blew her hair over her shoulder, making Mariana shiver.
How did this happen?She shook her head, wiping her eyes, but the tears kept coming.
Celeste was gone, and she could’ve stopped it. Her friend, her confidant, her—
Mariana swallowed, her throat tight and painful.
Celeste was the one person who understood Mariana, who accepted her without question. She was kind and loving, never judging or accusing. She had a light about her that could pierce even the deepest, darkest parts of Mariana’s life. And now, she was gone.
The truth sent a fresh wave of grief through her body. It tightened her muscles and strangled her soul so hard that she barely noticed the sting of something piercing the side of her neck.
