Lorraine banged on the witch’s front door until her fists hurt, crying and calling her name. It finally flew open, and Jessamine jerked her inside.
“You have to give me more!” Lorraine sobbed. “It’s wearing off!”
“Child, I told you, love spells are temporary. You can’t bend the heart forever, and you can’t stop true love.”
Haruo Settlement of the Last Survivors of Japan, 2094
Translated from Japanese
It was only a matter of time. I am fortunate I have been spared from it this long.
But it is necessary.
Planning someone’s last song was a bit stressful. I fed the tabletop jukebox and took my sweet time choosing. A good song wouldn’t make the betrayal and ensuing death any easier to swallow, but choosing one might ease my conscience.
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Gerard hadn’t intended the end of the world it to be so chaotic.
He hurdled an overturned cart and dashed down the cobblestone street. All around him, screaming civilians scattered, desperate for a place to hide. Fleeing was futile. The governor had placed the city on lockdown after the first shadowspawn appeared.
Where the beast came from, I had no idea.
I was only passing through this kingdom. A gentle breeze threaded through my loose braid, and I’d been enjoying the quiet and the view, in spite of the large, bare patches dotting the green fields alongside the dirt road.
The field beside my childhood home attracts starlings. When I was young, I’d sit on the wooden fence and watch them. My father was always working in the garage behind our house, but whenever he saw me there, he’d stop and join me.
“Those are murmurations,” he’d tell me as dark clouds of starlings rose against the gray winter sky.
I don’t trust the picture box. The people in it stare as I walk by. They want me trapped inside with them. The animals watch me too—dogs and cats, even the family fish in the tiny glass bowl. I am observed as I observe them.
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The shock of cold water splashing all over my body startled me awake. My eyes frantically scanned the room as I tried to remember what had happened.
I am definitely not in my room.
The black walls were splattered with blood stains. A dingy toilet squatted in the corner, and iron bars blocked the doorway. I shivered as another round of cold water hit me from the other side of the bars.
Don’t think about the portal—anything except the portal.
Elwick swallowed. He gripped the ship’s wheel, desperate to keep his hands from trembling. But it wasn’t the endless ocean, its waves lapping against his ship’s hull, stretching out on all fronts that provoked his fear.
The booming of the tribunal’s drums rivals even that of the cannons firing outside the city walls. That the High Council would go to the trouble of putting on a public trial even while besieged testifies to their displeasure. I don’t think Azer, the judge, has cracked a smile since the war started, but today his face is grim as death.
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My throat is so dry. My tongue so swollen. All I can think of is the great thirst within me. The need to find the one thing which will satisfy my soul—or, what was once my soul before it was stolen from me.
Blood. I need blood. And I need it now.
I sidled closer to the battle trophy, my palm itching to finally hold the rune-etched hilt.
The dead warrior’s blade had been there as long as I could remember—stabbed into the center of the cave’s floor. Every day I’d gaze at it, and the warrior’s name would dance in my thoughts to a tune only I seemed to hear.
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