I stand in a small opening in the trees, scanning the line and searching for any kind of break or clear path, finding none. I step forward and reach for the curled branch ahead of me, stepping on a small stick and hearing it crack beneath my foot. The sound is loud, echoing through the trees. I glance down at the black, dry stick I stepped on and return my gaze up to continue-

  I freeze.

  Directly in front of me are two large, purple eyes attached to a deep black shadow too large to fully make out. Out of the corner of my vision, another set of eyes—deep purple like the first—comes into view on my left. And then suddenly, another pair on my right. I don’t move my gaze from the eyes ahead. I don’t blink.

  Shakily, I begin to maneuver my right hand down toward the pocket at my thigh and slide my right foot back, attempting a small step. As my hand reaches into the pocket for my blade, the purple eyes lunge toward me—and I can’t reach my weapon fast enough. I close my eyes and brace for pain, for blood, for death—for whatever is coming.

  But nothing happens.

  I open my eyes.

  The eyes are gone.

  In front of me stands the shadow of a man, his back to me. He slowly turns to face me, and I-

  Suddenly, I’m jolted awake. My breath is heavy and fast, my chest like an elephant had been sitting on it. I sit up straight, holding my hand to my chest to feel my heart and check my surroundings—my bed, my end table, my deep wooden walls. My bedroom.

  Thank the Guardians. Just a dream. A terrifying one. That creature with the purple eyes—but there were more this time. And I hadn’t been attacked. Had someone saved me? Was the stranger with the creatures?

  I wipe the sweat from my brow, shake off the dread from sleep, get ready for the day, and head off to Talen’s room. After Mom left the room last night, he had looked exhausted, so we said goodnight, and I told him I’d be back in the morning. He’s already awake when I reach his bedside—still clearly in pain but more rested. His hair has been brushed out and is damp—Saren’s doing, probably—and his bedding is fresh and clean.

  “Morning, Le,” he says, and he lets out a small cough.

  “Good morning,” I say, reaching into my pocket and pulling out a small, crumpled brown bag. I place it on the table next to him. “I brought a few things from the garden. When Saren brings lunch, ask her to brew it into a tea. It should ease some pain, even if just a little. Don’t drink more than a few cups though—you’ll sleep through tomorrow.”

  I smile and reach for his hand. “I’m so happy you’re okay, Talen.”

  He manages to curl his lip into a faint smile. He still can’t move much—his muscles nearly paralyzed—and talking takes effort. I didn’t want to tire him out more, but I needed to know what happened to him. What happened to the others.

  “I won’t pry if you’re not ready,” I say. “But… what happened out there? What did you see? Will it come for us here?”

  Panic rises in me with every question. Talen seems to notice and gives my hand a light squeeze.

  “I don’t know,” he says, voice breathy and quiet. “We were attacked a few miles… outside the border.” He inhales, clearing his throat with a wince. “A wolf… bigger than anything I’ve seen. And purple eyes. I can still see them.”

  Purple eyes.

  My muscles tense, and I feel a bead of sweat form at my temple. Did I see the creature that attacked my brother?

  No. He said it was miles from here. It couldn’t be the same one. It would’ve had to follow him home—and let him live. No, I must’ve seen a trick of the light, just like I told Corvin.

  “It killed Astrid and Merrill before… I could get to them,” he says. “It almost took me. But something scared it off. I still don’t know what or how.” He leans his head back and closes his eyes, struggling to breathe.

  It HAD left him alive. Maybe not purposefully, but it had left him alive. I push the thought away. I can’t continue to exhaust him, not right now anyway. Maybe when he’s stronger, I can ask him more questions. But it’s evident that reliving the event isn’t helping him, and he can’t talk without pain. Someday, I will ask him about the moment they were attacked, and how he managed to get himself home with the hole in his side. But today isn’t the time.

  “Well, whatever it was—it’s the reason you’re still here.” I lean in and give him a light hug. “Is there anything I can get you or do before I go? I’ve got an errand this morning.” He doesn’t need to know that the errand I will run is sneaking around a meeting our father didn’t invite me to. There’s always a chance he overheard us in his sleep, but I won’t risk myself right now.

  He pauses for a moment and then returns his gaze to mine and smiles coyly. “Whiskey, from Marr’s tavern.”

  I roll my eyes and let out a deep sigh. Even when nearly dead, he cannot resist but get up to his usual chaos. Without answering his request, I pat the brown bag on the table beside him and raise my eyebrows, “Just a few cups at most.” And then I turn and head out the door for the council hall.

  I notice that the town is quieter than usual; only a few people walk by on my way through the stone pathways. Those who do walk by glance at me with guilt in their eyes—avoid coming near as though I’ve been plagued by some sickness—and increase their pace. Normally, I would run my fingers along the stone walls that line the pathway, taking my time and admiring the greenery and beauty that fills our town. Garden beds in nearly every yard and doorway, tall trees that line the outskirts of the homes, chimney smoke rising into the bright blue and almost cloudless blue sky.

  Today, however, I walk with purpose. A speed in my stride so that I may get where I need to go with time to spare. As I approach the large stone staircase of the council hall, I’m greeted by two men standing on either side of the wide wooden doors. Guards? We’ve never placed guards here before. Almost everything in council is common knowledge; even when it isn’t, it’s never been worth putting guards into place. I give each of them a small smile and nod, one after the other, and begin walking toward the doors. The one on the right reaches out lightly with his hand, placing it just in my way of the door handle.

  “Sorry, ma’am, the Keeper says no one will be in the council hall today.” He says, in a tone that I’m sure was meant to be firm and confident but came off as unsure of himself. He was young, probably a year behind me, and I decided to work with his indecision at that moment.

  “I was requested by the Keeper himself to be in this meeting. You can ask him, but I don’t think he’d appreciate being bothered when he’s in his meeting.” I raise my brows and shrug my shoulders, praying to the guardians that he wouldn’t question my authority. He looks at me with narrowed eyes as though he's trying to decide whether I’m lying. I take the moment to reach for the door handle when the guard on the left throws his hand between me and the handle.

  “Again, we’re sorry, ma’am, but we have direct orders.” I look to my left. This guard is older, maybe in his early thirties, with a furrowed brow and stern expression. He’s clearly not believing my lie. Just as I’m about to try to speak, Corvin’s voice appears from behind me.

  “She’s with me. Corvin Wylder, you should be expecting me. Trust me, she’s been requested and needs to be in this room.” He walks up the stairs to meet me and shrugs his shoulders. “It’s a pretty important meeting.” The guards remove their hands from the door and step aside, each with a face of discontent and worry. They allow Corvin to reach and open the door, usher me in with his hand, and close the door behind us.

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  “What EXACTLY are you doing here? You shouldn’t be here.” He says, placing his hand on my shoulders and facing me. I pull away, releasing myself from his grip.

  “Mom told me there was a meeting and that Dad hadn’t told me. Dad always tells me. I’ve got to hear what’s said today; why else would she tell me?” I try to hide the tiny bit of fear inside that says he will ruin this for me. “Besides,” I paused, crossing my arms and leaning on one leg. “Couldn’t I ask you the same? Why are you here if I’m not?” I asked, but I knew why. Corvin was tall and strong, loyal to his province, and a great asset if we needed to head out on another mission. On his last birthday, his father had begun including him in more Council meetings, but it didn’t sit right with me that he was in this one and I wasn’t.

  His expression shifts to confusion mixed with worry. “What do you mean your mom told you?” Of course, he’s ignoring my question.

  “Why are you here, Corvin?” I ask again, slower and more aggressively. The empty halls of the council building echo with our voices. The only people in the building must already be in the great room, waiting to start. This building isn’t typically buzzing with people, but the emptiness feels strange and worrisome.

  “Because today’s meeting… is about the divide. And its dangers. Your dad doesn’t want you involved with the things that cause us danger, Leora.” He sighs and raises his arm to scratch the back of his head, looking around to be sure no one is within earshot. “But, if your mom told you, there must be good reason. I’m going in. Don’t be seen, and don’t be heard. I can’t cover for you after that.” He turns and heads down the grey marble hallway that leads to the white double doors of the great room.

  I hurry to the room's left, diving behind a large marble pillar in the corner to avoid being seen. As the doors swing open, I hear a few distinct voices; My father, the Keeper of Briarholt, Corvin’s father, the Harvest-binder, and a few more.

  “There he is. Did you get lost along the way, son?” Corvin’s father asks, laughter rumbling quietly throughout the room. As the doors close and Corvin responds, the voices return to a low mumble until I’ve lost them entirely. I slowly creep out from behind my pillar and tip-toe through the shadows past the tall, frosted windows. Keeping myself pressed to the wall, I glide past two doors until I reach the one that holds the small room of banners and décor for holiday parties in the hall. Stepping in, I climb a box filled with white and gold décor for the Winter Solstice and sit atop another smaller box just above it, close enough to the small air vent in the wall to hear through it in case anyone should come out. I press my back to the wall and turn my head slightly, aiming my ear into the vent crack and closing my eyes to focus on the voices from within.

  “But the darkness just keeps spreading. A Draevos outside of Briarholt?” This voice is deep and rough, probably General Kilmer. Draevos. That must be the creature that attacked Talen with the purple eyes.

  “He’s right, there’s no denying it. I’ve witnessed the decay in the southernmost glade. What, exactly, do we plan on doing?” Elder Rivan, no doubt, with a voice that sounds scratchy and arrogant. He’s always been my least favorite of the councilmembers, constantly patronizing my father as though he couldn’t stand in the shoes of the previous Keeper, let alone walk in them.

  The decay he mentions is why Corvin and I have been searching for new plots of land for our crops. The southernmost glade is the clearing closest to the divide and to the dark magic slowly leaking from its cracks throughout the last few decades. The Guardians had once locked all magic within the lands into the divide over the Terravellum Strait, barricaded in by two wide invisible walls, after the greedy Duke of Valoria at the time had decided he and his people deserved all the power and set off to steal it all. He and all the magic of the lands were locked into the divide thousands of years ago, and we’ve lived without magic ever since. However, the walls have been cracking for decades, and the magic is seeping out. I haven’t seen it personally, but we’re warned as children of the darkness that oozes from the walls and are told the legends to keep us within the safe walls of Briarholt.

  A smaller voice, perhaps a scribe in the meeting, mutters something briefly in a low voice that I can’t quite make out. The others in the room immediately jump down the throat of the muttering voice.

  “Oh, come on!” a voice from the back of the room yells, seemingly in disbelief at the muttered words. A wave of murmurs erupts throughout the room. There are fewer people than usual in this meeting, maybe ten at most.

  “The ramblings of dead monks,” a voice echoes from above the murmurs, the only female voice I have heard in this meeting. The vault holder, Celia Dryden, continues, and I hear the squeal of a chair scooting back as someone stands. “I’m sure that Tirian will agree. We’re running out of prophetic options. The magic is being drawn out, and eventually, those walls will fall.”

  My father’s voice cuts through, louder and more demanding than the rest. “Yes. I’ve lost one son and nearly lost another. We’ve sent our best scouts and lost four more with Talen’s mission into the fire nation. What I won’t do is lose my daughter.”

  I flinch, and silence fills the room. Celia was right; my father does agree with her.

  “It’s not Leora’s place. She’s not strong enough, and I won’t risk her life with those creatures from the dark.” The silence is deafening; no soul speaks while my father pauses for a deep, calming breath.

  Creatures from the dark? Won’t risk my life? Not strong enough? What do I have to do with any of this?

  “No one goes near the outposts. No one travels past the southern glade. We stay on high alert until we figure out how to heal Talen. Kilmer,”

  “Yes, sir,” the general responds quickly.

  “Gather nine of your best Lieutenants. When we can find our next direction, we’ll need the best of the best to ensure their safety.” My father says authoritatively.

  “But he’s awake and getting better, isn’t he?” Corvin’s sharp voice this time, the sound of confusion beneath his tone.

  “We’ve seen this type of injury before in history.” Another voice I don’t recognize. A man’s voice, deep and stern. The room falls silent again, and I hear some shuffling as though others are turning to look at the speaker whose voice demands their attention.

  “If it plays out as in the past, he has time. But he is in no way getting better. He will appear as himself, eventually walking and functioning again. But he will be changed. All we can do is hope we got to him fast enough.”

  The small voice from earlier speaks up again, louder this time, female. “Ash root?” and a few hushed whispers are heard.

  “Oh, Guardians know what happens if we listen to fables and myths!” Elder Rivan retorts, and I can practically feel the spit flying from his crinkled, dry lips in frustration.

  “Enough.” My father cuts through the chatter, silencing the room with a single word. “We wait. We don’t chase the plants from myths; we plan and work with what we have. When we are strong enough to yet again search for answers, we do so.”

  I gasp in shock. Is he leaving Talen to the darkness? He told them not to continue the search, at least not now. But how long does Talen have before that injury changes him, as the strange voice had said? Surely, there’s a plan already; there must be.

  I hear the scooting of chairs from beyond the doors. I shuffle off my perch, out the door, and to the back corner of the room—hiding behind the same marble pillar from before and sinking into the shadows as the doors open. Peeking around my shoulder, I watch my father and seven others exit the room, Corvin trailing slowly at the back of the group with his father.

  I recognize most of them—Cecila Drayzen, Elder Rivan, General Kilmer, my father, Corvin and his father, and two others. One was a small woman who looked just a few years older than me, I’m assuming the small female voice I had heard, and the other was an older and taller man. I hear the chatter as they all walk out the front door, and then Corvin mentions something to his father and turns to walk back to the room. Once everyone’s left, Corvin meets me by the pillar.

  “Are you okay?” He says, placing a hand on my shoulder.

  “He’s giving up on Talen,” I say, staring at the wide doors my father just walked out of. He had changed so much in the last few years; I would never have expected him to give up on my brother like this.

  “Not giving up, Le,” Corvin said, pulling me into his chest and resting his chin on my head. “Just waiting for the right time to try and return to the hunt for answers.”

  I shove forward, pushing him away and taking a step backward. How dare he side with them. How dare he choose to leave my brother to some unknown sickness.

  “Something has to be done, and if that darkness truly worsens, then sitting around and waiting does us no good. Someone has to DO something, Corvin!” I raise my voice, having lost the ability to care who can hear me. The whirlwind of emotions inside me is rising again, and I feel like the walls in the room may be closing in on me. “I won’t let him be taken away from me. Won’t lose another brother.”

  “I hear you, but it sounds like there isn’t much to be done right now, Le. Don’t let this set you off; we’ll think of something soon.” His voice is firm, almost matter-of-fact. It pulls at tense chords within me I didn’t even know were tense.

  I stare at him, disbelief and rage growing in my chest. Does no one remember the loss of Finnean? Does anyone realize I could be the only one left of the three of us? Infuriated and trembling, I turn and walk toward the door to leave.

  “Where are you going? We can’t solve this right now!” He jogs to meet up with me, putting his hand out toward me at the door as if to stop me.

  I stop in my tracks and slowly turn to look at him. Tears burn my eyes as I attempt to hold them back, my hands balled into fists at my sides because I feel like I could strike from sheer anger at any moment. I lock my eyes on his and then slowly and quietly respond.

  “I won’t sit by and wait. I don’t know what to do, but I won’t sit by and wait.” I push his hand aside and storm out the front doors, wiping the tears away as they roll down my cheeks.