Shift 1r176b

Shift

Mikaela Nicole

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Shift © 2021 by Mikaela Nicole. All rights reserved.

Published by Author Academy Elite PO Box 43, Powell, OH 43065 www.AuthorAcademyElite.com

All rights reserved. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without express written permission from the author.

LCCN 2021908250 ISBN 978-1-64746-786-9 (paperback) ISBN 978-1-64746-787-6 (hardback) ISBN 978-1-64746-788-3 (ebook)

Available in paperback, hardback, and e-book

Cover design by WGOULART.

For Maggie The forest will always be our Pandorma

Chapter 1

A muffled clap of thunder echoes through my dream cracking the bubble of sleep and ushering in the gurgle of water from my fish tank. Groggily, I blink until the dark shapes and blurry gray world become the familiar face of my room. I squint at the red numbers beside my bed. 4:15. I groan and press my face into the pillow. I still have an hour. The song that had been stuck in my head last night resumes its favorite line, banishing the notion of going back to sleep. I shuck off the covers. Fifteen minutes later, I shuffle down the stairs while shoving a handful of homework into my backpack. The kitchen rests in semi-darkness, a heavy beast waiting to be woken by the sun. Pre-dawn light struggles to break through the dark, rain-laden clouds. I drop my backpack on the counter on my way to the pantry. “A little early for you, isn’t it?” I yelp and whirl around. A more scrutinizing look and I find Mom leaning against the counter, cleverly hidden in the shadows, her furry black robe enhancing her near invisibility. “Morning to you too,” I breathe, continuing to the pantry and locating the box of toaster pastries. I keep an ear turned toward her as I nestle two raspberry pastries into the toaster. I cross my hands behind my back and rest my hip against the counter. Of course now the song decides to take a hike and leave my mind unoccupied. At another distant rumble of thunder, I face the kitchen window. Please let the rain have ed already. My thumb thoughtlessly travels to my mouth, and I clench the nail between my front teeth. Mom lets out a small sigh, and my eyes dart in her direction. I pull my thumbnail out of my mouth and hide it inside a fist. “So, how come you’re still here?” I ask casually. I count on only her perfume to

be here in the mornings. With her spa in Cardinal City, it’s a little over an hour’s drive from our pinhead town of Abandon—a name that is becoming all too accurate these days. The toaster dings, and I grab a pastry. Ahh hot. I trade it between hands. Mom clucks her tongue. “Lissa, you know those pastries are not a healthy breakfast choice. Besides, they’re a ticking weight bomb. Don’t forget, fat that settles and builds is harder to get rid of.” She taps her hip with a slender finger. How could I forget? Her mantras are always at the back of my mind, threatening to ruin a delicious meal or dessert. Jelly burns my tongue and my eyes tear up, but I keep them trained on Mom, as if she’s a rogue bull ready to explode the minute the red flag so much as twitches. But she placidly gazes around the kitchen. Her face doesn’t hold its usual disdain for our ‘shabby’—her preferred description—house so I glance around too, wondering if somehow it got remodeled overnight. The ivory walls remain unmarked. All the cabinets and drawers beneath the marble countertop, a blue so dark it almost looks black, are also ivory. Mom defiantly protested to any cabinets being above the countertops, claimed they crowded the space. The sleek silver microwave, silver toaster, and a small, empty wine rack are still squashed together in the farthest corner. Decorations that had been on the counters and walls have long since disappeared. When asked, she said it was time to get new decorations, but that never happened. A forgotten project, I assume. I take another bite, only this time of the crust. I’d rather our kitchen never change. Memories, like dust and crumbs, have piled in its corners. I quickly finish off the first pastry and grab the second before double checking that I have everything I need in my backpack. A tiny sigh emanates from her corner. She’s still standing in that spot? I frown slightly. Strange. I swing my backpack over my shoulder. “So are you . . . not going in to work today?” Mom tips her head in my direction, and her eyes focus, like she’s only now noticing me. Her brows knit together. We look nothing alike: she has blonde hair

with golden highlights, and my hair is dark brown with curls. She has light green eyes, and mine are brown. She has light skin, and mine is olive. Mom throws back her shoulders, snapping back into her businesswoman mode. “I’m still going in, just not yet.” She swirls the contents of her mug then sips delicately. Okay. Her mellowness is getting unnerving. “Oh.” I pause a few steps from the door. “By the way, did Dad tell you I’m thinking about skipping the graduation ceremony?” Mom looks up. “He did not. That actually works better for me since I won’t be able to get out of work that day.” I stare at her. Do you even know what day the ceremony is? Resisting the urge to slam the door behind me, I take a deep breath of the rain-washed air and step off the porch. At least it’s only sprinkling. I guide my bike out of the garage and pedal to school.

I give the chain strapping my bike to the rack a test yank before entering the school building. Chatter, laughter, banging locker doors, and the squeak of shoes are amplified in the stretched hallway. I pick up a snippet of conversation about driving to Cardinal City for a night of fun and can’t stop myself from looking. One of girls in the group flips her hand toward me, and they huddle in closer. I shrug my backpack higher and keep walking. Every time I think that pang of being left out has finally died, it slips in through a secret door and nestles back in my stomach. One week. Then I can leave them all behind. I robotically spin the lock. I should clean out my locker. Not that there’s much to clean out aside from candy wrappers, which frequent my locker more often than I’d care for anyone to know. I pluck the picture of Dad with me as a kid on his shoulders, both of us laughing, from the magnet’s grasp. Ancient times. At least that’s how it seems when I think of Dad then and now. It’s only been a couple years since his depression took a sharp turn in the wrong direction. I could handle him gazing off into nothing and find excuses for him to forget where he was or what he was doing. It

got harder to ignore something more was going on when he locked himself away in his mind, hardly bothering to acknowledge me even when I gave subtle hints that I needed him. “Hey Lissa. Soul-searching again?” Fawn asks. I blink, returning to the present, and stick the picture back in its place. If Mom’s not worrying, neither should I. Mom’s the definition of a control freak, which means if anything were wrong, she’d have it under control. I take out the necessary books and switch them with any unnecessary ones in my backpack, slamming the door shut. “I still don’t understand why you call it soul-searching.” Fawn pulls her lips to the right then the left, thinking. She shrugs lightly, “It’s the only word I can come up with.” Fawn tugs her skirt, “Well?” I pluck her shirt. An extra-large, greenish-blue, long-sleeved shirt gathers on her hips, and a long brown skirt drapes over her boots. All to hide her dangerously curvy figure, which any other girl might be proud to show off. It’s a wonder she isn’t teased by others aside from Lexi, the school’s reigning Queen Bee. “I’m impressed by your continued lack of fashion sense,” I state with a firm nod. “Thank you,” she says, her tone matching mine. A smile then breaks her serious expression. “See you after school!” The bell blares and I file along with the crowd to my history class, claiming a desk at the back corner of the classroom. I lean my cheek against my knuckles as our teacher, Mr. McBride, waits for the rest of his students to take their seats. Lexi sashays through the door. Last, as usual. How she still believes after four years that walking into the classroom last ensures everyone will be watching her is beyond my comprehension. Mr. McBride, whose voice always has a lightness and energy to it, now says, “Before we begin today, I’d like for us to welcome a new student.” A boy walks into the room, his backpack swung casually over his shoulder. I sit up straighter, my thoughts derailed. His lips are pulled up into a polite smile, and his friendly, alert gaze covers the room. His eyes pause on me, and a strange feeling hits me in the chest, which I’m pretty sure causes my heart to stop beating. His gaze holds mine, and the sensation of being drawn in as if by a

magnet makes my blood jump. “All right, take a seat so we can begin. I think I see an empty chair there in the back,” Mr. McBride says, eager to get into today’s lesson. Did he introduce him? I stare down at my open book as if the answer is written there. I mentally track the boy, my stomach jumping when his backpack drops to the ground not far to my right. I keep my eyes fixated on the blackboard, fighting the urge to look at him—no, stare at him—until I’ve memorized every inch of his face. Focus! I concentrate on every word Mr. McBride speaks, and this challenge eventually restores order to my mind, which brings forth the thought, why is he starting now? It’s odd someone would switch schools when there’s only a week left of classes. A small wad of paper hits my cheek. Lexi gives me a puppy dog look then mouths something I don’t even attempt to figure out. She then turns and gives the new boy a coy smile. I grit my teeth and clasp my hands around my knee. I’d bet my life he was looking. Why else would she do it? Lexi only does things when they’ll be seen.

I pick a spot on the school entrance’s concrete stairs as far as possible from the leaving students and sit. I pick at my chipping dark purple nail polish. Fawn is notorious for showing up fifteen to thirty minutes late—I have timed her. I pull out my history book. Might as well do something useful while I wait. I glance at my ActivBand. Thirty-four minutes. Where is she? Intending to track her down, I shove my book in my bag and stand, almost running smack into him. “Waiting for someone?” he asks. My eyes travel up to the midnight blue eyes of Trevor, who seems to find my being startled funny. I take a step back so that we’re not as uncomfortably close. Practically siblings since we were toddlers, I always felt I knew Trevor better than I knew myself. That was before Trevor turned seventeen, quit football and

all his other after school activities, and shut everyone out. To see Trevor outside was like the chances of spotting Bigfoot. Trevor’s blond-brown hair looks recently cut, and are his shoulders broader than I ? He appears taller too—much taller. His eyes remind me of a storm, raging between anger and sadness. I drop my gaze to the concrete. “I’m waiting for Fawn.” “What a surprise.” I tilt my head and hold his cool gaze. Now what could I have done to earn this audience with him after such a long time. He couldn’t possibly be missing me now after two years of keeping me away. I wish it had been that easy for me to cut him out of my life. But it had been like losing a brother. And judging by the stupid miniscule butterflies of hope in my stomach, my less sensible side still wants Trevor to come back to me. “Lissa, are you ready?” Fawn asks, her boots thumping down the steps. I don’t break Trevor’s gaze, and after another second, he steps around me. Fawn watches him go, a frown creasing her forehead. “I’m so glad he graduated last year. The hallways are less creepy when he’s not lurking around.” She isn’t the only one who had been relieved to see Trevor graduate—but I hadn’t been. School was the only place I could see him and know he was at least still alive. I’m sure he was happy to graduate. “I wonder what he was doing here anyway,” she muses disapprovingly. I shrug. “He was only ing by. He does still live in Abandon” “Well, he should move. I just ed I actually can’t hang out today. I’ve got so much work to do. Dad is really piling it on this week,” Fawn puts an overdose of underlying ugh in her voice, moving her backpack to her other shoulder. Whatever she’s hiding, I lack the patience to pry it out of her. She could’ve told me earlier though. That way I wasn’t sitting on the steps for a half hour. My eyes

drift away from her to Trevor’s disappearing back. Why’d he have to stir up old feelings? Fawn zips across the street to her father’s store, Lumber Plus, the only hardware store in town. Pretty much all the stores in Abandon are the only one of their kind: one grocery store, one restaurant, one hardware store, one pet store, and one police station that shares the building with our one pointless newspaper. Everyone knows what’s going on long before the paper can print it.

My footsteps are as silent as the house. In the kitchen, I set my backpack on the counter and grab a peach from the fridge. I fold my arms and stare out the French doors at the forest. The trees take over our yard less than twenty feet from our terrace, and today the forest whispers of peace. After the day I had, I could definitely use some peace. I snatch another peach from the fridge and race out the door. The path to my favorite spot is a steep climb. The trees stop several feet from a small crescent-shaped plateau, and the view gives me pause every time. The summer trees have packed their branches with greens of every shade. As if stuck on permanent waves, the trees rise and fall with the landscape. I close my eyes and breathe in deeply, relishing the pleasant smell of fresh air. Various birdsongs are carried on the gentle breeze. My forest. I know it better than my house. As far as I know, I’m the only one in town who knows the location of this plateau so I’m always careful not to leave a path for others to follow. Resting dangerously on the lip of the plateau is a large, gray rock that sparkles with hundreds of little crystals. I climb atop the rock, lie on my back, and take in the sky. I run my fingertips over the rough stone, letting my thoughts drift away. If I could meld with the rock, just live out here forever, life would be perfect. But only a few hours after I arrive, the sun ticks closer to the edge of the sky. I could probably squeeze in another half hour. Dad set the rule of not being allowed in the woods after dark such a long time ago I bet he doesn’t even now. I tilt back my head and let out an exasperated growl. There’ll be other days. I drag my feet down the path and slowly cross the stepping-stones that create a

bridge over the creek. On the other side, my shoes squish into the soft, muddy bank. The sound of steady lapping causes me to turn back around. Crouching at the edge of the stream a few feet farther down is a large, jet-black jaguar. I stand stock-still, my jaw going slack. A scream burns my throat but doesn’t escape. The jaguar freezes in its crouched position. Only its tongue moves to lick water crystals dripping from its snout and whiskers. Its gaze, a striking emerald green, pins me like prey. But it looks observant, curious. Unable to look away, I watch as it turns and disappears into the undergrowth, leaving me speechless.

Chapter 2

Dad’s feet give away that he’s on the couch, and when he doesn’t move, I assume he’s snoozing. I open the fridge, and my mouth waters when I discover a big bowl of macaroni and cheese. On the days that Kelly, our maid, is here, she’ll make dinner for Dad and me. After the day I’ve had, I can afford to splurge on calories. I put the bowl in the microwave, grimacing at the loud beep the buttons make. Before it can ding, I open the door and mix around the pasta to make sure it’s thoroughly warmed and entirely gooey. I set the timer for another minute then hunt through the cabinets for other deliciously unhealthy snacks left by Kelly. I’m sure I’ve burnt off five hundred calories between the new boy, seeing Trevor— “See any Bigfoots?” Dad asks. I release a small yelp and whip around, the bag of cookies escaping my grasp. “Jeez, Dad, you nearly gave me a heart attack!” I scold. “Now the cookies are probably all broken.” “Poor cookies,” Dad says seriously then chuckles, his brown eyes sparkling. He grabs the bowl out of the microwave and dips the spoon in, taking out a big lump of cheesy noodles. “What’s that? Point two hundred for me?” For the last several years Dad has kept count of the numerous times he’s scared me—intentionally and unintentionally. I make a face at him then pick the cookies up and set them on the counter. “No,” I say playfully, “one fifty-three.” “I could’ve sworn it was more than that.” It probably is. I split the macaroni and cheese into two large bowls, stick forks in, and hand one bowl to Dad. I hop onto the counter, Dad’s large form casting a shadow over me.

Bigfoots have been a joke between us ever since the first time Dad let me explore the woods on my own. He handed me orange ribbons and told me to mark the trail so that I could find my way back home. After roaming for a bit, I had spotted an interesting rock beside the root of a large tree and bent down to get a better look. There was a loud crack of a branch breaking. That’s all it took to send me barreling home. Having watched an episode on Bigfoots the night before, I instantly assumed that was what the creature was. Needless to say, Dad never let me forget the incident. “There weren’t any Bigfoots,” I say, “although earlier I bumped into one of his cousins.” Dad huffs out a laugh. “You saw Trevor?” “I was sitting on the school steps waiting for Fawn.” I pick through my noodles. “He could’ve avoided me. But he didn’t.” “I bet he’s missed you.” I chew slower. “Yeah right. He’s the one who cut off our friendship. He can’t miss me that much.” Dad’s spoon scrapes along the bowl. “You guys were friends for over ten years. That’s not an easy bond to break.” Trevor sure broke it easy enough. Dad’s big hand playfully shoves my head down. “People make strange decisions sometimes. Just don’t forget to be understanding, Licorice.” He hasn’t used that nickname in a while, and I take a second to savor it. I kick my foot thoughtfully. “I’m understanding, but that doesn’t make me feel any different.” “Understandable.” I shake my head and shove my shoulder against him. My thoughts revert to the jaguar, if that even was a jaguar. It was very big. “Dad, there aren’t any wild jaguars here, right?”

“Jaguars? I’m pretty sure not. Only cougars, I believe. No dangerous animals here.” “And when did cougars get taken off the dangerous animal list?” I tease. I flinch at the sharp, sudden sound of his bowl hitting the counter. I’m going to tell him he could break the bowl setting it down like that, when he grabs my shoulders and looks me in the eye. “ those stories I used to tell you?” his tone is urgent, pressing. “The ones with the planet?” He used to tell me stories practically every night up until I was about eight. Sometimes the stories would be about his childhood, but most of the time they were stories of fantastical fiction. Tales of a world far away with the only access being an invisible door, a gate he liked to call it, that could only be found by animals. In his stories, we would always ride through the gate on a horse, my favorite animal at the time, if we weren’t already on the planet. The planet could have anything Dad wanted—from talking animals, to mermaids, dragons, places where creatures appeared out of mist, or dinosaurs. He always started these stories with the same line: Once upon a legend there was a planet where fairytales were born, the myths of beasts originated, and creatures thought dead still thrived. He grips my shoulders tighter. “Sometimes we must believe in the things most absurd because those are the things that are true.” Dad’s eyes dart back and forth between mine. The intensity in his eyes sends a wave of unease through me, and I grip my bowl with the same hold he’s got on my shoulders. “We all make mistakes, but we have to what is true, right? We must hang onto the truth—fight for it. Lissa,” Dad’s voice becomes strangled as he continues, “we must always fight. Especially for the things we love most. Promise me you will fight. And forgive me. Promise me.” “I promise, Dad,” I say quickly, wanting this moment to be over so he’ll go back to his normal. Tears creep around the corners of my eyes from his fingers digging into my shoulders.

Dad straightens up, his intense demeanor vanishing. He nods once then heads upstairs. I save the rest of my macaroni and cheese in the fridge and leave the cookies. I very slowly shut my door, my mind whirling. Dad’s never spoken so fiercely. Ever. His voice had such conviction, yet desperation for me to assert that his belief is in fact true. Whatever belief that is. What did he want me to forgive him for? A mistake he made that I know nothing of? I bite my thumbnail. I thought Dad and I shared everything. This is going to bug me like crazy. I should ask Dad what he meant. But I’m not sure I want to. I grab a thin blanket off my bed and curl up in my desk chair, turning on my laptop. I wonder if Lexi attached herself to the new boy when school let out. The screen blinks on, but I wait another several seconds for it to process the then pull up the Internet. She probably offered a quick tour of the town before ending with her house. And since school isn’t done, she likely offered to help him study—it’s her MO. Too bad I didn’t bump into him instead of Trevor. Why was Trevor by the school anyway? He could’ve easily crossed the street—I never even would’ve known he was around. Maybe Trevor was prodding to see how I felt about him. Yeah right. Trevor is anything but subtle. I’ll focus on that jaguar. Clearly there’s a breed of wild cat out there I don’t know about. I type jaguars into the search bar. That doesn’t reveal anything so I type in more specifically, large black cats with white spots.” This search brings up a Celtic mythological cat and a variety of pages on house cats. I sigh. This could take some time. The tiny clock at the bottom of my screen argues it’s only a little past seven, still early. I click page after page, altering the search to various places around the world, even searching ancient cats. I read a sentence, but it doesn’t sound familiar. I didn’t even realize I’d been absently scrolling. I grab a lock of hair and twist it as my mind wanders. I wonder where the new boy moved from. Something about his face, the way it was friendly but guarded, suggested maybe he’s moved often. I sure hope Lexi didn’t get to him. I can only imagine some of the inventive things she’d say

about me. I rest my cheek on my knee. Wonder what he’s like. I bet when he was looking at me he didn’t feel a thing. It’s been a long time since I was nervous around a boy, and my body was just overexaggerating. But at the back of my mind I think of ways we might bump into each other. This isn’t getting me anywhere. I turn off my laptop and crawl into bed. It feels like only moments later sunlight hits me in the face, cutting off my dreams of mythical cats and piercing green eyes. I roll away from the sun, and the cloud in my head sluggishly exits. I exhale, my heavy eyelids allowing only a glimpse of the clock. 7:32. A small part of my brain s this as I pull the blanket tighter around my neck. School! I lunge out of bed and throw on the first set of clothes I grab. The sight of my hair in the mirror gives me pause. I smooth out the top with my fingers but the mess of curls won’t be so easily tamed. If I brush it, it’ll become a puffy mass, which would be worse than going to school without brushing it. Wouldn’t it? I throw my hands up. I don’t have time for this. I throw a pinch of flakes into the tank for my fish. I skip breakfast, grab my backpack, and race out the door. I hop on my bike and madly pedal to school. I can’t be late. Don’t be late. Don’t be late. Don’t be late! When I reach the building, I crash my bike into the bike rack and take the concrete steps two at a time. Great, the doors are closed. They only close the front doors when classes have started. My shoes echo in the hall as I race to my English class. The teacher’s back is turned. I cautiously open the door, hoping it doesn’t make any betraying squeaks. Someone snickers as I tiptoe to an empty desk at the back. “Tardy, Miss Fleming,” Mr. Parson says in his monotone voice. “And so close to the end of the school year too. Teenagers. Always get lazier when they’re about to graduate.” One of the more obnoxious boys in the classroom offers an explanation, “She was probably out with that freak Trevor all night. Just look at her hair and shirt.”

There’s a chorus of laughs and derisive snorts, and I sneak a glance down. Not only is my shirt inside out, but it’s one of my few shirts that is practically seethrough. I close my eyes. Stay calm. At least I have on a shirt. This does little to combat the rising embarrassment, and I pull my arms tighter to my side. When I look back up, I find Mr. Parson staring at me. I stare back, focusing on breathing in and out. He adjusts his glasses, one of his eyebrows jumping up, and then he turns back around. Careful not to make eye with anyone, my gaze skims the room until it lands on the new boy. I don’t know if his sympathetic look offends me or touches me. I look away. I don’t need sympathy from someone who doesn’t know me. Yet, I find my gaze traveling back to him. His eyes are on the teacher, but his body is partially turned in my direction, and his eyes suddenly flick over. Mr. Parson clears his throat. “Lissa, find a new shirt once class is over. Now, when we’re done observing each other, we’ll start the lesson.” A mortified blush heats my cheeks, and I cover it by bending down and digging through my backpack for my English book, not looking at the new boy again.

Fawn and I eat lunch outside every chance we get to avoid the clamorous lunchroom and possible Lexi harassment. Farther from others, I watch them around food and chuck pieces to little birds. My stomach growls. I pluck at the dead grass beneath the green grass. “I’ll share,” Fawn offers. “No but thanks.” My lips pull up into a smile and I gather my legs against my chest, muffling the next growl of hunger. Fawn’s lunch is only a thin sandwich, mostly likely the only thing she’ll have until dinner. There’s no way I’d take any of it. “It’s only a few more hours. I’ll get a candy bar or something before heading home.” “I could share with you,” an unfamiliar voice offers.

My head snaps up so fast it momentarily makes me dizzy. The new boy’s soft gaze meets mine. There goes my heart zapping my body with nervous energy again. Contain the smile. To achieve this, my eyes dart to his tousled brown hair then beyond his shoulder. “I have plenty,” he insists. I swallow my thumping heart and ask in what I hope is a normal tone, “Are you sure?” “Yeah. Of course. I have an extra sandwich.” In one quick movement, he takes off his backpack and sits next to me. He takes a plastic wrapped sandwich out of a brown paper bag, giving me a crooked smile along with the sandwich. Bits of grass are stuck to my fingers, and the loose bits come off with a single swipe against my jeans. Whew. Peanut butter and jelly. It always drove Mom crazy that I’m picky with my food. Ironic since according to her, a girl shouldn’t eat more than fruit and vegetables to stay trim. “Thank you,” I say earnestly. “No problem. My name is Ryan.” His eyes never move from mine. I take note of the flecks of green and light gray. “Lissa.” “And I’m Fawn,” she adds, giving him a ghost of a smile before turning her attention back to her lunch. “I like your new shirt,” Ryan nods, his eyes glinting playfully. “Oh . . .” I start. Fawn always has a backup change of clothes in her locker, and she loaned me a shirt. As well as being yellow and about three times too big, all Fawn had was a sweatshirt. “Thanks. I’m burning up in it though.”

Ryan’s eyes take on that teasing sparkle again. The second he looks away, I shrug at Fawn, who is shaking her head at me. Lexi struts out of the building then, her usual group of friends tagging behind her. She stands in place, searching. For her boyfriend hopefully. Annoyance prickles my skin when Lexi spots us and saunters over. Fawn shrinks inside her own skin. I square my shoulders and lift my chin. “Hey, Ryan,” Lexi coos. “You’re a hard one to find. I’ve been looking all around for you. Why don’t you come sit with me and my friends. It’d be way better than sitting on the icky ground.” “Thanks, but no,” Ryan says, giving her a quick smile, which is undoubtedly fake after that lopsided one he gave me. Lexi opens her mouth, but Mitch, her boyfriend, calls her. Lexi’s flashing eyes roll in his direction. Poor Mitch. He’s in for a scolding. She ignores Mitch and tells Ryan, “How about I give you a private tour of the town once we get out of school?” And there it is. Guess she didn’t get a chance to offer that yesterday. “I can show you everything there is to do and help you make some real, trustworthy friends.” She slants disapproving eyes toward me. I tense up and clench my jaw to keep any nasty remarks imprisoned. This must aggravate her because she goes on, “Nice shirt. Looks like something your grandmother would wear.” “Thanks.” One hand snaps to her waist, her fingers digging into her side like talons, and she scowls. “It’s an improvement anyway. No one wants to see that chunky stomach.” “I’m pretty sure that’s not what the boys were iring,” I fire back. Fawn giggles, and Lexi shoots her a withering look. She scowls at me, and then her eyes slide over to Ryan. She smiles, failing to pull off a look of

embarrassment. “I promise I’m not usually like this. Lissa and I always bring out the best in each other. If you should change your mind about that tour, Ryan, I’m free for the rest of the day. See you around.” Lexi waves with her fingers and turns so that her hair twirls behind her. As Lexi’s overbearing presence evaporates, Fawn blows out a sigh. “I’m counting the hours to graduation day.” I should say something to break the silence. Nothing comes to mind and, other than a glance here and there, Ryan and Fawn keep their attention on their lunch. I pace myself until the bell rings, then shove the remaining bite in my mouth. The nervous energy still runs rampant through my body, and him being close is making my skin prickle. His eyes connect with mine. I swallow. Whatever this is I’m feeling, part of me doesn’t like it. My brain overrides my heart’s desire to stay with one word: leave. Calling a goodbye over my shoulder, I hurry inside.

Fawn leans against the bike rack, watching me untangle my bike from the one beside it, an unfortunate side effect of having been thrown into place this morning. “By the way, thanks for abandoning me with that boy earlier,” Fawn pouts. I tilt my head up at her. She’s pulling a thread out of the sweatshirt she’d loaned me, which I returned the moment we exited the building. “I thought you’d be happy. Ryan is cute and pretty nice. Maybe he’d make a good boyfriend.” “Really? He was totally into you. Did you see the way he got all puppy dog eyed?” I jerk the pedal from the wheel spokes, and it slams down onto my hand. “Ouch! He did not.” “Lissa, I don’t mean to sound, well, mean, but I think you have a love phobia.” “I do not.” She crouches to put her face in mine. “For the year that I’ve known you, you’ve never dated or had a fling.” Her hands lock onto my shoulders and her eyes grow

huge. “Ryan could be the answer. Even I could see all the little fireworks going off in your eyes, kind of like me and—oh.” Her face pinches up, and she stands, tugging the hem of her shirt. “Do you want to go shopping? We can ask my brother to drive us.” “Are you ever going to tell me who this guy is?” “No. Now do you want to go shopping or not?” she huffs. I eye her. She sure is touchy about this guy. “Uh . . . no. I have things to do.” I straddle my bike, peeking at Fawn out of the corner of my eye. Her eyes flick between mine as she tries to gauge my honesty. I can’t tell her I’m going to track down a jaguar. She’d call me insane. Maybe I am. That jaguar could hunt and kill me before I’d even know it was there. I look down at my scraped red hand. Miniature dots of blood spot my skin, warning that I shouldn’t go. Blood will only make me easier to find. I have to see that jaguar again. “All right. Guess I’ll see you later,” she says reluctantly. “Maybe we can hang out tomorrow,” I suggest, hoping to smooth things over. Fawn gives me a doubtful glance then crosses the street. I bite the inside of my lip. I should just hang out with her. My chances of this ending well are slim. I blow out a breath. My curiosity will drag me out there sooner or later, I might as well go now.

Chapter 3

Before starting my idiotic quest, I buy two large packages of red meat. My bait. I know trying to lure the jaguar out only makes this plan more stupid, but it also increases my chances of seeing it. From a hiding spot high up in a tree that is. It won’t be able to attack and cling to the tree. But just in case things go wrong before I get up the tree, I also purchase a pocket-size air horn. I check that Dad is not downstairs before entering the house then move quickly. Dad has an uncanny ability to detect when I’m going to do something foolish, and even after years of amassing sneak tactics, he can still scent me out. There are some occasions where it’s just his random pop-ups that scare the heck out of me and expose my crazy schemes. I worry he’ll pull that stunt now since he’s not in sight. I fly up the steps, glad our floors never squeak, and noiselessly close my door. I dump the contents of my backpack and replace it with the chunky packaged meat. I hesitate at the air horn. Should I tell someone that I’m headed out to the woods? If the horn doesn’t work and I get mauled, at least they’ll have an idea as to where to find my body. Except the only people I can tell are Dad and Fawn, and I’d never get away with it if they have even an inkling I’m up to something. I have to see this jaguar again. I zip up my pack then escape to the forest. Halfway to my easiest climbing tree, I lay down meat, wrinkling my nose at the sharp, bloody smell. It occurs to me that the jaguar could pounce while I’m laying out the meat, but I push on, my pulse racing faster with every red square I place on the dirt. Creepily silent minutes by before the hairs at the nape of my neck stand up. Forcing my lungs to keep functioning normally, I peek over my shoulder. Nothing. I suck in a breath. My backpack. It’s slumped over at the base of a tree—several feet away. With the horn. “Looking for me?” I shriek and whip around, tripping in the process and falling hard. The jaguar’s bright emerald eyes appraise me calmly. I choke out another shriek and scurry

backward, bumping into a tree. “Please, stop screaming,” the jaguar says, its tail flicking in irritation. I place a hand on my chest, my breaths coming in heavy gasps. My heart pounds with fear and astonishment fogs my brain. Animals don’t talk. No, they can’t talk. The jaguar sits, not taking her eyes off me. This isn’t real. It can’t be. I shut my eyes, logic and truth battling in my head. Logic screams that this isn’t possible, but truth is sitting right in front of me. My eyes snap open. “I’m still here,” she states pointedly. Okay, okay—breathe. ing out won’t help. Then I’ll just be easy prey. I look the jaguar up and down. This is what you were looking for, a voice in my head chides. The jaguar leans forward slightly. She almost looks curious, or maybe something else. I shake my head. It’s a wild animal. Somehow I’m imagining it talking. Did I knock myself out when I fell? I pinch the underside of my thigh. Not unconscious. Without moving my head, I glance to the left and right. Should I chance running or just sit here until it decides if it wants to kill me or not? “I apologize for scaring you. I assumed the meat was for me and didn’t think you’d be surprised.” “Not surprised,” the words ride out on an exhale. “And you’re—you’re not going to eat me?” Once out of my mouth the question sounds dumb since she hasn’t tried to eat me yet, but it seems like a reasonable thing to ask in my position. Her whiskers twitch. “Do you want me to?” “No. Of course not. But you’re a very big, predatory cat—a wild cat. You don’t talk, you kill . . . things.” She flicks an ear. “Yes. That’s how I stay alive.”

“Right,” I breathe. The jaguar flicks her tail and rumbles a throaty purr for a second. She sniffs a piece of meat, snorting out the scent in disgust. If that meat doesn’t appeal to her, I just might be more appetizing. I press my back harder against the trunk. Make a run for it. If I run to the right, I won’t be headed in the direction of home but that path looks less like a trip hazard. The jaguar tips her head. “I am called Darklily.” Darklily’s shoulders flex as she walks toward me. Running might be a bad idea. I vaguely reading that turning your back on a predator is something not to do. But that means I have to sit here, talking to a jaguar like an idiot. I press my thumb into the palm of my other hand. “I’m Lissa. Why can you talk? Animals aren’t supposed to speak.” It’s impossible. Only parrots are capable of talking. “Lissa,” she repeats. Darklily circles me once, her nostrils flaring. White spots are scattered over her front and back paws, stopping at the ts. Her snout is sprinkled with little white dots as well, and she has two white spots on the back of each ear. Darklily stops in front of me, her gaze delving into mine. The green turns a shade darker, almost like she’s searching for something. “I’ve been looking for you. I need your help.” My lips part then close. I tilt my head and squint. “What?” Darklily sits and wraps her tail over her paws. Sitting, she’s a head taller than me. Using the tree trunk for , I pick myself up. Her head comes to near the middle of my chest. “You’re a huge cat,” I mutter. Her size is quite impressive. Whatever breed of cat she is, she must be rare, maybe even undiscovered. None of my searches last night shed any light on her possible breed. “You’re a small person.” “I just mean you’re bigger than any wild cat I’ve ever seen.” Not that I’ve seen

any close up. Darklily’s shoulders hunch up—a shrug? “Not in my lands. And where I traveled from, a very powerful enemy is threatening to ruin my world. They’ve caused countless deaths, and if nothing is done soon, my home will become a wasteland. This is why I need your help. I need you to come with me.” I press my fingers into the bark. This is getting a little too crazy. This can’t be real. It has to be a joke. A well-thought-out, perplexing joke. This jaguar doesn’t look like a robot, a projection, or someone in a suit, but it has to be fake. “I really have no idea what you’re talking about so . . . I have to leave.” Distress pools in her green eyes. “Let me explain better—please, don’t leave. You have to help me!” “Keep the food. I don’t want it. Bye!” I grab my backpack and run home.

Oh, sweet safety. I stumble to a stop at the first porch step and clutch my left side, gasping in air. That has to be a record for getting home. I look behind me, even though I wasn’t followed. At least I don’t think I was followed. A spooky feeling crawls up my spine. I hurry inside, locking the door. “Dad!” Downstairs is empty so I haul myself up the stairs, climbing them on hands and feet. I reach the hall and pant, “Dad . . . you won’t believe what just happened.” I knock then twist the knob. “No, it had nothing to do with Bigfoots . . .” An almost bare room stares coldly back at me. The bed and dresser eye me like a stranger as I shuffle to the shelf that used to hold Dad’s collection of favorite sunset photos. It now displays newborn dust bunnies. I walk out of the room and stop at the top of the stairs. I bunch my hair up and twist it to one side. Mom has our only car—could he have wandered off? Where would he go? Unless he doesn’t have depression. Maybe there’s something else

going on. Something like . . . Alzheimer’s? I don’t know the symptoms. I hasten to the kitchen and pick up the phone. He could’ve gone for a walk through the woods. He’s done that before. We don’t tell people about our problems, Lissa. They’ll only judge us for them, is what Mom said. She’ll be home in two hours. I hesitate then place the phone back in its cradle. I’ll look for him first. If I don’t find him before she gets home, we can work something out together.

I tap the TV remote against my leg, changing positions on the couch. Why is she always late? I pick at a button on the remote, prying up a loose end then pushing it back under the plastic. The refrigerator lets out a brief hum then the silence resumes. This is ridiculous. I go to the kitchen and pick up the phone, pressing in Mom’s cell. My finger has just jabbed the last number when I hear a car engine shut off. “Finally.” I open the front door just as she’s stepping out of her car. The garage floodlights sparkle off the rhinestones on her shirt and makes her ironed curls of blond look golden. Her phone is shoved against her ear with her shoulder as she fiddles with slipping the keys into her purse and holding onto a wrapped package. I frown. She tells the person on the other end a hasty goodbye. “Where have you been?” I demand. She hitches her purse strap onto her shoulder and grabs yet another package from the enger seat. “You’re three hours late, and I needed you to not be late for one day.” “My gosh, Lissa, could you take the drama down about five notches?” Her phone beeps, and she pauses to read the message. “Stress starts the aging process early.” I slap my thigh. “Dad is missing. I thought maybe he went for a walk in the woods, but I couldn’t find him and he hasn’t come home yet. I was going to call the police—”

She halts just before stepping through the doorway. “You didn’t, did you?” “No, I waited for you to get home.” “Good girl.” And her phone again takes priority. She strides to the kitchen, her heels clopping on the tile. I purse my lips and shut the door, putting more force into it so it bangs. She flashes her eyes at me before flicking them back to the screen. “I called your salon, but you had already left. Didn’t Carrise tell you I called? She said she’d text you.” I pinch my fingers against my thumb. Mom places her phone on the counter then gathers her hair and pulls it over one shoulder. “There’s something I have to tell you, but I need you to be an adult about this.” I grip the back of the chair. “What did you do now?” She sighs and places a hand on the box. “Never mind. We’ll talk about this when you’ve lost your judgmental attitude.” Me, judgmental? My shoulders tense, and I dig my fingernails into my thumb. I bite the inside of my cheek as a storm of angry thoughts grip the front of my skull. I press two fingers to my forehead. “Do you know where Dad is?” “He’s somewhere safe”—ding—“and that’s the important thing.” “Okay, well, where?” I move to the counter, the rounded edge pressing against my hips. Mom taps a perfect nail against the screen. “He’s at a place that can help him with his problems. Before you blow up, this was his idea not mine.” I stare at her, my toes curling under. I open my mouth, but my constricted throat won’t allow me to yell, growl, or speak. I make a fist then slam my palm against the counter and turn away. “Lissa! Control yourself. You know how much I dislike it when you act this way.”

I stare out at the backyard, my eyes growing hot. Don’t cry. I slide my thumbnail up and down the glass until I grasp a straw of calmness. “Tell me the truth,” my throat permits before it retightens. “It is the truth. We discussed it several times the year before.” “Dad never said anything,” I snap, spinning around. “He wanted you to be focused on school and your life. He wasn’t going to leave until after your birthday, but he’s gotten so much worse that I had no choice but to get him the help he needs.” “I don’t believe you. You never cared about Dad, and you had no right to send him off without talking to me first!” I pound my fist on the counter. Her calm façade breaks, and she glowers at my fist then me, the smallest wrinkles creasing her forehead. “I knew you’d fight me, but I am the adult and I had to do what’s best for all of us.” “How can you even look me in the eye saying this? You’ve never done anything that’s best for either Dad or me.” Mom picks up her packages, and I picture myself ripping these precious things away from her and ruining them like she has done to so many things in my life. She fixes her bracelet so that the black-and-gold butterfly is centered on her wrist. The creases on her forehead fade away as she once again appears calm and collected, but every couple seconds one fingernail scrapes against the inside of another. “This conversation is over. You don’t know everything, Lissa, so don’t accuse me of never doing anything.” She snatches her phone and heads for the stairs, but I beat her to them. “Where is Dad?” She stares at me. “You can’t keep him from me.”

“He’ll you when he’s ready to see you.” She steps around me, bringing her phone to her face. “There are days I wish you’d run off with the first guy you had an affair with and just left us alone.” As the long held back words break free, I’m unable to keep my voice from quavering. Mom partially turns but then continues up the stairs. I wait for the door to her room to close before locking myself in my room. I leave a trail of incomplete thoughts as I pace from one wall to the other. There has to be a way to find him. I drag one of the piggybanks from under my bed. Penned on the side in black ink is: 2,200. The money I’ve saved has been my rock of hope and a promise that when I get out of Abandon, I won’t completely drown. Warmth slides down my cheek. I press my hands to my eyebrows, but tears gather around my palms. Where would I even start? The only answer I get are a bunch of question marks. I choke back one sob, but another threatens to escape. I grab my favorite cat blanket off the end of my bed and lay on the porch swing outside, where I won’t be heard.

Chapter 4

“Hi, is a man named Dwayne Fleming a patient there? I’m his daughter, Lissa Fleming.” When the response is negative, I ask quickly, “Could you tell me if there are any private centers?” The receptionist says no to this as well, so I thank her, hang up, and scratch out the number. With only one mental institution in Cardinal City, the city isn’t as big as I thought. I take a deep breath then count it out. The refrigerator chimes out a thoughtful hum before resuming its indifference. Shoot. I shouldn’t have scratched that out. Ever so carefully, I erase the pencil marks and redial the number. “Hi, I called a minute ago, and I was wondering if you could give me the numbers of other nearby institutions?” I quickly jot down the numbers and dial the first number the moment I’ve hung up. When I call the third number, the receptionist tells me she’ll have him put on the line, and I nearly choke on the joy and relief that rises in my throat. I grip the phone tighter and pace the kitchen while I wait. “Lissa?” “Dad?” The word comes out strangled and husky, and I’m sure he couldn’t have understood but he did. “I’m glad you called, Licorice. I was worried Ver—your mom wouldn’t tell you where I am.” Oh, she didn’t. “Dad, you should come home. You don’t need to be there. I can take care of you. There’s nothing wrong with you.” I stop in a square of morning sunlight, hoping to warm my chilled feet. The refrigerator hums another thought. He sighs softly. “I think it’s best if I stay here, just for a bit, to get things straightened out in my head.”

I stare out the kitchen window, my brain scrambling to calibrate a new plan. “All right. Well, I’ll move to where you are.” “No. I don’t want you rearranging your life because of me.” He mumbles something to himself then sighs. “I just need some time to sort things out in my own life. Besides, you’d only worry about me instead of focusing on doing what you love.” I twist the drawstring of my pajama pants around my finger and briefly close my eyes. He’s pushing me away. “I’ll worry about you no matter where I am. You’re my dad, and I love you. I can’t not worry.” A quiet chuckle on the other end puts a small smile on my lips. “I love you too. But you’re going to Cardinal City. When I’m better, we can come up with a new plan together. Now get to school where you’re supposed to be, and after you move, be sure to call and tell me everything.” I tell him I will then hang up. I let out a breath. I’m already late for school, and it’s the last place I feel like being. But it won’t be for much longer. Then I can get out of Abandon.

It’s been two long days since the woods incident with that talking jaguar and I came home to find Dad gone. At first, to keep my worried, angry, sour heart busy, I compulsively researched robotic cats and cat suits and how to use projectors. Nothing looked as real as that jaguar out in the woods. Thoroughly confused, I buckled down on studying for tests, hoping to push the episode out of my mind. Except I can’t forget it, and an unexplainable, needling urge keeps saying I should go back into the woods, just to be absolutely certain I’m not crazy. Plus, my curiosity has also put in its two cents. But I decide I need to talk this over with someone before my logical side gets overruled. Someone like Trevor. Technically, we might not be friends anymore, but he’s all I have left and I’m sure that if I tell him it’s important he’ll listen. I check the library first, since that used to be one of our favorite hangout spots. The library claims the secluded, northwest corner of Abandon. It has low

ceilings and small chandeliers that give off a yellow glow, and it smells like a basement most days. The wooden bookshelves are numerous and somewhat cluttered, but the books are impeccably clean and perfectly sorted. The three women who work at the library have been there since my childhood. In our friend years, Trevor would always hide out in the Old History section. It’s never used, so he could effectively hide if he didn’t want to be found. I figure now won’t be any different. Hopefully. I force my legs not to take the stairs two at a time as I head to the library’s second level. My heart thuds in time with the pound of my footsteps. I hesitate on the top step. Shoving aside my unease, I head on, checking the other aisles along the way just in case, but Trevor is right where I’d anticipated he’d be. He’s sitting in the same faded yellow bean bag chair that’s been here forever. His back hunches over a large pad of paper, a pencil in hand. I tiptoe over. A large black wolf snarls viciously, saliva dripping from peeled back lips, its lava-red eyes aflame with hatred. Behind it, on a large rock jutting up to the sky, is a silvery ghostlike wolf howling to a full, glowing white moon. “That’s really good,” I compliment, but it’s on the darker side, compared to what he used to draw. Trevor doesn’t even flinch at the sound of my voice. And I thought I hadn’t made a noise. A minute es with only the sound of his pencil scratching rough marks on the paper. He doesn’t draw with the same careful, smooth strokes anymore either. Judging by his current movements, I would guess he’s angry. But what about? I’d try to pry it out of him if there weren’t heavier things on my mind. When Trevor still doesn’t acknowledge me, I gently bump his shoulder with the back of my hand. “I need to tell you something. Well, talk to you about something.” At last he looks up at me, his face uninviting. “Talk to me about what, Lissa? Just because we saw each other the other day doesn’t make us buddies again.” I stare at him and press my teeth. Dad said to be understanding. I don’t understand why he has to give me his nasty side. I’d leave if I didn’t have this desperate need to talk to someone. I fold my arms across my chest.

“Of course not. I have absolutely no one else to tell.” Literally. If I was hoping the insistence in my voice would get him to pay attention, I’m wrong. Trevor shrugs and resumes his drawing, pretending like I’m not bending over his shoulder. “Trevor! Can you listen to me for just a second? Something really weird happened two days ago. I’m not sure how to explain it but I really need to tell someone, you know, so I can kind of straighten out my thoughts.” “Can’t you find someone else to tell? Fawn—your dad—the trees?” “No.” He closes his pad and packs away his pencils. I quickly block his path, hemming him in the small space. “No, Trev, you’re the only person I have to talk to, and you know it.” I punch out the last words so they don’t come out sounding vulnerable. Trevor knows that I have very few people in my life and even fewer I can confide in. He has even fewer people than me. In fact, he probably has no one now. He and his mom are close but not share-everything close. His father died of a heart attack when he was eleven, and there were days he wouldn’t speak to anyone. He rubs the back of his neck. “All right.” “Okay, I was in the woods a few days ago and this huge . . . cat spoke . . . to me.” I watch his expression as he processes my words. It changes from puzzled to skeptical to guarded. “A cat like a house pet? Is this a joke? Because it’s not very funny.” I vigorously shake my head. “That’s what I thought at first, but I haven’t found any other explanation so I’m assuming it was . . . real.” I falter on the last word, not really wanting to say it.

“So it what—meowed at you?” he asks, one eyebrow raised. I flash my eyes in annoyance. “What did it look like then?” he revises grudgingly. I clear my throat and cast my eyes down. Wow, talk about muddy shoes. “That’s really not the point.” “Lissa, what did it look like?” Trevor repeats, this time more assertively. How to answer without revealing it was possibly a type of jaguar? “Lissa,” he repeats firmly. I throw my hands up. “It was—it looked like a jaguar, okay? But it wasn’t!” Trevor rolls his head, muttering something I can’t pick up. “It wasn’t a jaguar, but it looked like one. How exactly did you come across it?” “That doesn’t matter. Did you not hear me say—” Trevor throws me a stern glare. “Fine. I stumbled across the cat once before, and I was so intrigued that I baited a path so I could see it again.” Anger lights up his eyes. “Jeez, Lissa could you be any more stupid? It could’ve killed you! You’re lucky your alive.” “I know it wasn’t smart, but I just had to see it again—it wasn’t like any cat I know of, and I searched on the internet as well. You should see it! It’s black as night with tiny white spots on its legs. I might’ve taken you with me when I went to look for it, but how could I ask you? I mean, like you said, we’re not buddies again just because we bumped into each other.” I hold my breath as I wait for him to react to having his words thrown back at him. Finally, he says coldly, “You should’ve just stayed away.” He zips up his pack and brushes past me.

I grab his arm. “Really? I have absolutely no one else to turn to, and you tell me I should’ve stayed away? What happened to you? I know something had to have happened and that’s why you pushed me away.” I take my hand off his arm and slowly breath out. Trevor keeps his back to me, his head angled slightly but doesn’t leave. Dad, I hope you’re right about our friendship. “We were friends for years. Whatever it is that made you feel you had to break our friendship or if you think I can’t handle it . . . you could at least try me,” I say quietly. My stomach tightens as I hold my breath. With a jerk of his backpack higher onto his shoulders, he stomps down the stairs. I kick the wall and let out a breath. I thought he might finally let me back in.

Chapter 5

I get little sleep after my conversation with Trevor yesterday. I try to shake the sleep from my eyes as I slowly bike down our driveway, but it clings to me like a leech. Gross. Okay, terrible comparison, but my brain feels like mush. Our dirt road stretches half a mile before connecting with a real road, so I let my attention slip. My feet continue pedaling as my mind wanders elsewhere. Like to Ryan. I’m sure I’ve seen him around school, but my mind has been so preoccupied it’s all been a blur. Maybe before class— Black flashes at the edge of my vision. I barely that something is running directly for me before I find myself flying through the air. The breath is knocked out of me, and I lie still for several seconds before gradually sitting up. I wince when pain roughly snaps at my wrist and shoulder. I stand, small bursts of pain shooting through my back where my book’s sharp edges jabbed into my body. I rotate my wrist a few times then massage my shoulder. “You have terrible reflexes,” Darklily remarks. I spin around. Darklily stands near my now reclining bike. She flipped my bike? Dark’s whiskers twitch with amusement. I narrow my eyes. “It’s not funny.” “I found it amusing. Especially the startled look on your face.” I grimace when pain lashes my wrist as I pick up my bike and push it forward. “You wouldn’t be laughing if it had been you.” Darklily sniffs. “First of all, I would’ve landed on my paws, and second, I would’ve jumped out of the way, avoiding collision in the first place. That thing isn’t exactly made of feathers—my leg might be bruised tomorrow.” “We could’ve avoided collision if you just hadn’t run into me,” I retort, but a smile threatens to surface. Trevor would’ve enjoyed seeing me fly off my bike. Of course he’d make sure I was okay before laughing, but he’d never let me forget it happened. I’d tell him about it if he weren’t being such a pain, and so

insistent I stay out of his life. I slip off my backpack and hang it on the handlebars. At least now I have no doubt the jaguar is real, and I don’t have to go looking for her. “Sorry, I thought you would see me coming,” Dark says sincerely. “I’m glad you’re not afraid of me anymore.” I jolt to a stop. I hadn’t even realized I wasn’t afraid. And here I am, having a conversation with this predator like it’s completely normal. Could I be any stranger? I shake my head and continue on. “I might not be afraid, but I’ll have to be more alert in case you try to flip me again. Or pull any other stunts.” “I won’t. Although it is your own fault.” “My fault!” I press my hand to my chest. “If you hadn’t run off, I wouldn’t have had to take such drastic measures.” “I’m sorry if a talking jaguar freaked me out and I needed some time to process.” Dark springs ahead so that she’s in front of me. “Some time? It’s been two days since you came looking for me with your tainted meat. Did you not hear me when I said my world’s in trouble and I need your help?” “I’m sorry. I’ve been a little overwhelmed.” I wish there was someone to help me navigate this medium-size implosion of my personal world. We reach the end of our driveway. “I have to go, or I’ll be late.” “Can we talk when you return?” I hold Dark’s expectant green gaze. Whether I believe her or not, I can’t say no. “Yeah, we can talk later.” She blinks then lopes away into the forest.

I walk down the school steps and over to the bike rack. My head feels like a soaked rag—overfull. I glimpsed Ryan a few times between classes and in class,

but it was like getting a single drop of water and expecting it to quench a deep thirst. The feeling was frustrating, and as hard as I tried to pretend it’s just my heart being looney, it refused to be shrugged off. I lean on the bike rack and stare down the road. I should forget about him. I’ll be gone by the weekend. But the thought of leaving Abandon doesn’t make my insides leap like usual. I’ve mapped out potential apartments, I already have a job the moment school is done. It’s the same place I’ve worked every summer for the last three years. I’m not walking into my foreseeable future totally blind —I’ve done everything possible to prepare myself. So why do I suddenly feel like I’m about to walk into murky water? No, it’s like I’ve been doused with a bucket of panic, and my teeth scrape back and forth over my thumbnail. Maybe I should move to the city where Dad is even if he said not to. The whole point of going to Cardinal City was to be close enough to go home and see him on the weekends. I bunch up my hair and twist it. “These tests are going to kill me,” Fawn wails, and I’m snapped away from my thoughts. Poor Fawn. History and English are our final tests. Unfortunately, both are her weakest subjects. I give her a sympathetic look and she says grumpily, “Don’t give me those pity looks. Do you even know what it’s like to have Cs dotted all over your report card? My hair is going to go gray. I am so stressed out.” My grades have fluctuated between As and Bs. Not that it was always that way. At one point my grades did slip, when I noticed how depressed and forgetful Dad was becoming. And when it first hit me that Mom was cheating on Dad. Lucky for me, Lexi’s mom—who is nothing like her daughter—noticed and got me back on track. “Try not to stress. Any college would be lucky to have you.” “You’re just saying that as my friend,” she groans. “No, I’m not. It’s true. You’re an awesome person.” I straddle my bike and point it in the direction of home. “Hey, I have to run. There are a few errands I need to get done,” I say before she can continue this discussion. I feel guilty about cutting her off, but if I don’t, she’ll go on about her grades and college for hours. Fawn sighs heavily. “Is there any chance that these ‘errands’ involve Ryan?” she

asks as she starts walking. Okay, I guess we aren’t finished talking. I climb off my bike and follow, heat rising to my cheeks at just the mention of his name. Yeesh. I need to get a grip. “No,” I protest. She hmphs in disbelief but changes the subject. “What about graduation?” “What about it?” I ask as we cross the street. “Uh, hello? Dresses? I heard some other girls talking, and I don’t think we’re getting those gowns,” she replies. I pick at a piece of the black rubber that’s coming off the handlebar. “I’m not going to the graduation ceremony.” “What! The thing we’ve been working for our entire lives and you’re not going?” Her voice rises to almost a shriek. I let out a short laugh. “Calm down. We’ve been working for our education our whole lives, not graduation. Besides, our diplomas are already getting mailed to the house.” “That’s not the point,” Fawn says, flustered. “I need you there with me. I can’t do this myself. Lexi will eat me alive.” I purse my lips. I couldn’t list how many speeches I’ve given Fawn over the year we’ve been friends, I even bought a book on unleashing one’s inner confidence. Nothing ever made a difference but, in a way, it was nice to be needed. “Look, the ‘ceremony’ won’t even last an hour. Only a handful of adults—or students, for that matter, are probably going to even bother attending. You’ll be fine. I guarantee it. Lexi will be wherever there are more eyes so there’s a good chance she won’t even show. Just find someone else who’s nervous and stick with them,” I say encouragingly. “It’s the last day of school—you’ll be all right.” Fawn looks up at the clouds before her gaze falls back to me. “What about the party after?”

“You’re kidding, right? It’ll only be full of teens guzzling beer and skimpily dressed girls strutting around as if we haven’t seen it all before.” She puts on a pouty face. “You’re such a stick in the mud when it comes to having fun.” “You know that’s not my idea of fun. Hey, what if we skip everything and spend the day in Cardinal City? Then when it starts to get late we can head over to that dance club we love so much.” I start planning out the day in my head, a day I could really use, when she nixes the idea. “It was you and your dad who loved that club so much.” She sighs. “I swear you’re the opposite of every teenager in this town. I know! What if Ryan is there?” I look away. The thought had already briefly crossed the back of my mind. He doesn’t seem like the kind of guy to go to something I think is stupid, but what if he is? I don’t know him. “If he’s there, then I hope he has a blast. Maybe he can be your party buddy. I’ll see you later, okay?” Fawn waves her hand in goodbye, angry that I’m not giving in. This is one time I refuse though. I have to buy fish food before heading home so I make my way to the pet store. Halfway there, I hear my name shouted. My heart drums faster as I come to an abrupt halt. I look over my shoulder, but I don’t have to turn to know it’s Ryan who yelled my name. “Hi,” I say once he’s next to me. When his eyes land on mine, warmth spreads across my skin, and I smile. “Hey. How are you today?” “Good. How are you?” A hint of emotion es through his eyes, but it’s gone before I can even guess what it is. “Awesome. Hey, uh, can I ask you something that might sound kind of weird?” Not letting myself think of all the weird things he could possibly ask, I say, “Sure.”

He hesitates, shoving a hand into his pocket. “Is it okay if I come over to your house to study? Just for an hour or so.” Jittery happiness sets off fireworks in my heart, but I rein it in. Before I can give an overeager answer, he goes on. “You can say no if you want. You don’t have to say yes,” he says this with a casual lift of one shoulder, but his eyes will me to say yes. “I don’t mind at all. I just have to stop at the pet store first.” “Great.” Ryan gives me a relieved, crooked smile that makes my legs feel like jelly. Hopefully I don’t embarrass myself by toppling off my bike. He doesn’t talk much on the way to my house except for asking a few questions: why are the houses all so far apart? How old is the town? Most of the buildings are pretty rundown. “Abandon has been around for almost a century. When the town was first built, thieves were the majority of the inhabitants. I think the wide string of houses where I live were purposely built far apart and backed by woodland so that the thieves could easily escape if the police came poking around.” “You must have done a lot of research on the town’s history.” “Not exactly. I found a detailed book of the town’s history at the old bookstore. It had two inches of dust and brittle, yellowed, torn pages. I skimmed through it at times when I was bored, mostly to look at the old pictures.” I’d found the book by mistake. It was in a stack of untouched books, which I had accidentally knocked over. The shopkeeper, a friend who was always asking me to read her recent, unfinished story, told me I could keep the book but only if I promised to take care of it and keep her company for a few hours each day until August when she would go live with her sister in Manhattan. “Do you still have it?” he asks. I have to think for a second. I haven’t seen that book in a while, but I’m pretty sure I put it in a box, which I then stuffed in the closet. It’s probably moved to the back and buried by other stuff now. “I’m sure it’s in my room somewhere.”

We fall into silence again until he asks, “Do any buses for the city come through?” A small knot forms in my stomach. Is he planning on leaving already? Despite the practical part of my brain warning I shouldn’t get involved, I wouldn’t mind getting to know him a little better before we graduate and never see each other again. “There’s no bus,” I say. He looks slightly disappointed with this answer so I add, “If you desperately want to get out of here, you could always call a cab. It might cost a small fortune though.” “No, I’m good. I was just curious—trying to get the lay of the land.” Three wooden steps lead up to the small, square platform that is our front porch. Our door has always felt too fancy for our house. It’s a beautiful, light brown wood with a white-and-red stained glass window at the center. I try the handle. Locked. I dig around in the side pocket of my backpack for the spare key and put it in the lock. As I’m turning the key, a black head peaks around the side of the house. Darklily. I hurry Ryan inside. Hopefully she doesn’t mind waiting for just a little longer. Ryan gives a short, low whistle. “Nice house.” Beige carpeting runs over the stairs and in the living room but ends at the kitchen and dining area, which is one big room. Separating the living room from the dining area is a waist-high white wall. The top is covered with fake dark green ivy that runs along the wall like a spine. Behind a heavy dark wood door is my dad’s office, which I rarely enter. A room could hardly be the cause, but I’ve always felt it to be the place where his depression began. I lead Ryan to the kitchen table. “Sit anywhere. I just have to put this fish food upstairs.” “Okay.” Ryan hangs his backpack over the back of the chair but keeps looking around the house. I force myself to walk up the stairs at a regular pace, but my legs feel like running to heaven. Ryan is in my house! Happiness tingles the length of my

spine. I chide myself for being so giddy, but the feeling is uncontrollable. I can’t the last time I felt this happy and light. Who cares if I’m leaving soon? I’ll just make the most of the days that he is around. I practically skip into my room, drop my backpack on the floor, and put the fish food on my dresser. I bend over and watch my fish effortlessly glide through the water. I resist the urge to tell them the good news. I walk over to my window, anxiously rubbing my hands together. Please don’t let Darklily make a sudden appearance. I don’t want her to scare Ryan away. Or what if I scare him away? My brain feels like a circuit board of disconnected wires—there’s no telling what will happen. He could also just change his mind and decide to leave. Aside from Dad, guys haven’t exactly stuck around very long in my life. Taking a deep breath, I grab a couple textbooks and head downstairs. If Ryan wants to leave, fine, but I can’t bail on him in my own house. Plus, when he asked if he could come over, I thought I detected another reason buried beneath. Maybe he’ll tell me. Ryan is sitting at the table, head bent over his book. He looks up and smiles as I sit down opposite him. I smile back. I pick out my English book and flip to a random page. I glance at the French doors and hope Darklily saw Ryan and stays out of sight. On the edge of my book, I draw swirls. Where did you come from, Ryan, and why change schools so late? I probably could use some review in English since we don’t always see eye to eye. I box an R in the sentence then an L that appears in the word over. I squiggle lines between them. Why do you make me feel this way? He looks at me in a way I’m not familiar with. But what does that mean, if I can’t identify what the way he’s looking at me means? I X out the boxes. I glance at him. One hand is against his forehead, the other tapping a pencil against his paper. He looks deep in concentration—he probably hasn’t glanced at me once. I look down at my book again. I’ve never had such an adorable smile aimed at me. And who knew a voice could sound perfect? Like a song that hums in the blood and clicks in the heart. It’s too bad—no, there’s no way. Right? A guy wouldn’t follow a girl he just met to another city. I mean, he was just asking about buses. Maybe he doesn’t want to stay in Abandon either. I pencil in tiny buildings then stretch a road away from them. Doesn’t mean he’d leave with you.

“I know,” I sigh. “What?” My eyes widen. “Nothing,” I say quickly. He leans back and stretches. “I think my brain has had about enough of studying for now.” I glance at the clock. An hour! How on earth did time go by so fast? I run my hands through my hair and stretch my shoulders. “Well . . .” I let it trail off, not sure what to say. “Do you want to get dinner?” I’m not that hungry, but I answer, “Yeah. I’m sure we have something.” I start to get out of my chair. “Let me take you out to a restaurant. You’ve already given me enough. The least I can do is buy you dinner.” “Oh, that’s okay,” I say quickly. I pull my shoulders forward. “I haven’t given you anything really—there’s nothing to repay.” “I want to take you out,” he says warmly. I stare at him. He wants to take me out? What, like on a date? A volcano of emotions erupts inside me, elation and anxiety being the strongest. My heart would love to go on a date with Ryan, but my wary mind eagerly steps in and reminds me that the last guy who took me on a date was a jerk. Ryan hasn’t shown any sign of being a jerk, but neither did the other guy. Ryan is different. I’m sure of that. “Okay.” I swallow my apprehension. “I saw a small restaurant in town. We could eat there,” he suggests. “Barton’s Restaurant. It’s pretty cheap, but the food is good enough.” I should tell him that I can pay for my own dinner, but my money is strictly locked up in

savings. “Perfect.” I get out of my chair and turn away from Ryan’s eyes, which hold mine longer than necessary. I tuck my hair behind my ear. “You’ll have to let me pay you back.” His eyes sparkle. “I’ll think of some way.” “Uh oh,” I say with false dread. He laughs, following me to the door. “This is going to be a long walk,” I warn. Without trying to be too obvious, I check to make sure Darklily isn’t in sight before stepping out. “The longer the better,” he pauses. “It’ll boost our appetite,” he adds, and I wonder what he was really going to say. I would walk to with him if he asked me to. Not that we’d be able to walk all the way because we would have to take a boat to get across the ocean— stop. For once, I am going to relax and not logically think the situation to death.

“Thank you for walking me home and buying dinner.” “You’re not at your front porch yet,” Ryan argues. “I know, but it’s getting dark and you have a long walk ahead of you. I’ll make it to my house okay.” “I’ll feel better once you’re inside,” he insists. I glance around. I don’t know where Darklily is, and I don’t want her to make any appearances while he’s around. Ryan takes a step, but I put a hand on his chest to stop him. Little sparks of electricity run through my fingers, and I snatch my hand back. “Seriously, I will be fine. You, on the other hand, have at least a mile and a half

walk in the dark. We have mountain lions. I would offer to take you home, but —” “But that would kind of defeat the purpose,” Ryan interrupts. “But we only have one car, and my mom has it. Now you start walking and get home safely, okay?” I say. Ryan still looks like he’s going to argue so I persist, “I’ll be fine!” Before he leaves, he plants a kiss on my cheek and murmurs, “Thank you for having dinner with me. Goodnight.” I’m so stunned that I don’t move for a moment. Keeping my head down, I touch the cheek he kissed, sure I’m grinning like an idiot. I nearly scream when Trevor speaks. “I guess you finally found a boyfriend.” Trevor is sitting in the dark corner of our porch, staring at me intently. “Jeez, Trevor! Why are you sitting on our porch in the dark? Why don’t you say hi or something instead of sitting there all quiet and creepy?” I cover the last couple feet to our porch. Am I imagining it, or is there a hint of accusation in his eyes? He lets out a snort of laughter but then turns serious. “I didn’t want to interrupt.” He tilts back his head, and it jogs an old memory of us lying in my backyard on warm summer nights, mapping out constellations. Every star seemed to shine its brightest just for us. Orion was always Trevor’s favorite. He compared Orion to his father, grinning in the black sky, battling starry beasts. “You should be careful around him. You don’t know him. You don’t know what kind of guy he is,” he warns. “Am I supposed to know you? Because the old Trevor would’ve let me in instead of pushing me away.” “Things change.” “Did you need something? Or were you just stopping by because that’s what

people who aren’t friends do?” He runs a hand through is hair. “Just wanted to make sure you hadn’t been eaten by your talking jaguar.” I partially roll my eyes. “You’re so funny.” I wait for a real explanation, but he doesn’t give one. “Okay, then. Goodnight.” “Yeah. Night.” He casts a reluctant gaze on me before stepping off the porch. “Wait. I know you graduate tomorrow, and I wanted you to know—I’m kinda proud of you.” Touched, I take a step toward him. “Thanks, Trevor.” “Yeah, well, you know how iffy the chances are some people will graduate here.” He shoves his hands in his pockets and walks away. I stare after him for another moment then go inside. I rest against the door, perplexed by Trevor’s behavior. I must have disrupted his solitary mindset because that’s the second time he’s put himself in my path. Dad must be right—he does miss me. I shut my eyes and try to ignore the small headache forming at the base of my skull. I head up to my room and fall into bed. To entice sleep, I count backwards.

In my dream, a hammer won’t stop pounding on a nail, and I inwardly groan. Instead of sleep pacifying my headache, it’s become worse. I press the bottom of my palm against my forehead and get a millisecond of relief. I won’t be falling back asleep anytime soon. I sit up on my elbows and, out of habit, look at my clock. 1:25. I squint at the window. Dark. Maybe there’s something left in the kitchen that will help. I turn my bedside light on then slip off the bed. There’s a cat-like screech, and I fall to my hands. “Could you watch where you’re stepping?” Darklily sits at the side of my bed, crossness shimmering in her eyes and the fur on her spine straight up.

“How would I know you were there?” I cry then add warily, “How did you get in?” Darklily cocks her head. “The same way you did but through the back door. Then I followed your scent to your territory,” she purrs. “It’s called a room.” I gingerly touch my racing head. “You did shut the door, right?” “Room.” Darklily chews on the word then asks, “That door?” She points at my open bedroom door. I slap my forehead. Ow. I’d better go check. Dark follows me to the top of the stairs. The front door opens then slams shut. I’d better make sure the back door isn’t wide open. I head downstairs, but Mom’s whispered voice stops me. She never whispers. I scramble back to the top step and sit. “I know. My part is done. I’m just waiting for your return,” she coos with a giggle. If Mom’s giggling she must be talking to her newest man. Anger stirs in my belly. I don’t need to hear this. “Of course I care about Lissa, but she’s turning eighteen in the fall. Legally she’ll be an adult. She can take care of herself.” I turn back. Mom draws circles on the counter with her finger then turns and leans against it. “I am not being harsh. Trust me, that girl doesn’t need anyone. If anything, she’ll be glad to have me out of her life.” This pause is longer and I consider going down there and demanding to know what’s going on, but she starts talking again and I don’t make a noise. “He checked himself into the mental institution a few days ago, and I’m having my lawyer draw up the divorce papers as fast as possible.” My arm had been resting on my knee, but my feet slip off the step and my head jerks back. I’m surprised I don’t tumble down the stairs. What? plays like a

broken record in my head. “I still have a few articles of clothing in the dresser and some items in the bathroom but nothing important. I can’t wait for you to come home from your business trip.” Her voice lowers, and she toys with the button on her blouse. Ugh. I pull my legs up and grip my ankles tightly. “I know you like that outfit, but I bought a new one yes—” I clear my throat loudly and stand. Dark scrambles away. “I’ll have to call you back. Love you,” she says quickly, snapping her phone shut. Contrary to that, she pronounces my name slowly, her timid gaze resting on the wall before traveling to me. “Mom.” She clears her throat. “It’s awfully late.” “Yes, it is.” She hesitantly walks up a few steps, unsure if she should bring up the phone call or not. I make that decision for her. “Divorce?” I must not pack enough venom into the word because she takes it as if I’d simply asked how her day was. “Is that why you convinced Dad to check himself into that place?” My eyes hurt from the anger seething behind them so I focus it into kneading my nails against my palms. Looking trapped, she lets out a breath and sits next to me. “Look, Lissa, I will explain but I need you to have an open mind.” I stare at a patch of carpet at the bottom of the stairs. Do I want to hear what she has to say? Did I care was a better question. “About a year and a half ago I met this man and, well”—a smile pulls up her lips, and I grind my teeth—“I never expected to fall so hard for him, but I did

and we want to be married. The only problem was . . .” “You’re already married?” She looks down at her hands, and for the first time, I realize her wedding ring is gone. Has it been missing from her finger for over a year? “I know we haven’t always gotten along the best—” “Maybe if you had spent more time at home or shown more interest in being my mom than running your business, we would’ve gotten along better,” I snap. “I didn’t have much of a choice after your father quit working. It fell to me to keep a roof over our heads and food on our table, so why don’t you try showing a little more gratitude?” She stands up fast, angling flinty eyes down at me. I stand as well. “So it had to be either your family or your business?” “Yes, and quite frankly my business was more rewarding and less disappointing than having you for a daughter,” she says levelly. And that’s why any gratitude takes a long hike and gets lost in the mountain range of dejection. “I want to get out of Abandon and make something new of my life just as much as you do, Lissa.” I’m sure having Dad and me cut out of this new life is just the cherry on top of the ice cream. But I can’t say this out loud because anger and frustration have a tight grip on my throat. After all these years, her words shouldn’t still feel like a dagger picking at a scabbed wound. “When I leave for work in the morning, I won’t be returning here. Marcus comes home tomorrow night so I’ll be staying with him.” She takes one step then pauses. “I can try to make your graduation ceremony since your father can’t, but I’m not making any promises.” “Just don’t come!” Her eyes bore into mine, and for a split second, I think I see regret. But I’m sure

I only imagine it. Her lips twitch, and she re-centers her bracelet. “Fine, I won’t. I’m sure I’ll see you around Cardinal City. Maybe we could have a lunch date, and you can tell me how you like providing for yourself.” That’s never going to happen. The idea of moving to the city where Dad is grows more appealing. I pound down the steps. The back door is cracked open and sways, a soft breeze wafting into the house. Outside, I take deep breaths. I stare up at the moon, hoping some of its serene light will rub off on me. She doesn’t think I’ll be able to make it on my own. I close my eyes, my shoulders sagging. When Dad drifted off into his own world, I lost my only shoulder of and encouragement. Clouds of despair and other darker emotions were harder to overcome without another voice to help combat them. My eyes become heavy with tears, but none fall. I could be one of those stars, alone and hidden amongst a sea of other brighter stars. I can’t give up. I wonder, though, if I’m ever going to get anywhere.

Chapter 6

I don’t know if I get any actual sleep. My brain doggedly stayed in that place right before falling asleep but still conscious of the world. When I returned to my room last night, Darklily was stretched out on the floor, her eyes closed but her ear angled toward me. She’s no longer there when I roll over and look down. The sun pours through the curtain, filling my room with honey rays. I know without looking at the time that I’m late for school, but I pull my pillow closer to my face. Like an improperly cleaned up soda spill, the sticky residue of last night’s emotions lingers in my veins. It’s the last day of school. The thought drifts by, indicating a reason I should get out of bed. I roll out from under the covers, but I nearly change my mind after one glance in the mirror. I close my eyes. Get out of bed. Get through today. I run my fingers through my hair then put it up in a ponytail before heading to the kitchen. I open the last package of toaster pastries and throw both in the toaster. As I go to get orange juice from the fridge, I see a note, stuck in place by a smiling sun magnet. Mom’s long, graceful letters are written on her expensive ivory paper. Last night rushes back full force, and I consider tearing up the paper without reading it. The last thing I want is to hear anymore of her insults.

Lissa,

As most of our conversations do, last night ended on a bad note. While you never lived up to my expectations, there is a slight achievement in your graduating. It

took a lot of determination and cleverness for me to get where I am today, and I know you possess both of these things. Should things not go how you imagined, you can return here—it always was your father’s house. Either way, I wish you luck in your new life as I think you should for mine. Below is the number you can call to reach your father.

Mom

I stare at the paper, waiting for emotions to surface. She’s really not coming home again. Despite our rocky relationship, I don’t want to be left on my own. I turn around. The emptiness of our house never bothered me before, but now it feels like an echo of my future. I can’t stay here.

“There you are,” Ryan says. My heart flutters, the sound of his voice pleasant to my ears. My face is hidden by my knees and arms, and I don’t look up. A deluge of tears finally broke free, and I know my eyes are red and puffy. I hate people seeing me cry. My body becomes acutely aware of his as he places himself close to me. “I was worried when I didn’t see you at school and Fawn said she hadn’t seen you all day either.” As much as I like being around him, I’d rather he left me alone. The whole point of skipping school was to avoid people, although I probably should’ve hidden in the woods instead of in the park under a tree. “Are you okay?” he asks. “Fine.” I turn my head to the side, still keeping my face away from his, and notice a lady being dragged along by her St. Bernard. She’s dressed in purple, a knit purple vest pulled over the long, flowing purple dress, which flaps around her legs.

“Do you mind if I sit with you?” he asks. I shrug. “As long as we don’t have to talk.” The St. Bernard catches a whiff of something and starts fervently digging. The lady tugs desperately on the leash, talking to the dog and gesturing between sentences. “That’s fine.” His hands brush against whatever he’s wearing. “It must’ve been pretty bad to make a girl like you skip our last day of school to spend it in the park crying.” “I’m not crying.” But the scratchiness of my voice rats me out so I revise, “Not anymore.” Ryan moves even closer to me, and it makes the nerves in my skin go haywire. “If you don’t want to talk about it, how about I help you get your mind off it?” A policeman walks over to the lady and points to the hole. She gives a helpless shrug. The policeman pulls at the dog’s collar. “You could take me around town, show off your knowledge of the town’s history. I bet you know of a few places most of the townspeople don’t know about.” The St. Bernard has stopped digging but catches sight of a squirrel racing across the grass and lets out a deep bark. The dog bolts after it, dragging the lady into the dirt and knocking the policeman off balance. I brush my hair behind my ears. “All right,” I agree, looking at Ryan, “as long as you don’t ask what’s wrong again.” “Deal.” He stands and offers me his hand. Once I’m up, I take a step back so that we’re not so close. Ryan tries to hold my gaze, but I avert my eyes, instead watching the policeman march over to the lady and help her back on her feet. She’s covered in dirt smudges and grass. After taking in her appearance, she shakes a finger at the policeman. Out of nowhere, the St. Bernard runs up and pounces on the policeman. The man crumples to the ground in a heap, the dog racing off once his victim is entirely toppled over.

Ryan and I simultaneously burst into laughter. The policeman jumps up and shakes his fist at the lady, roaring. She covers her mouth with her hand, her face caught between astonishment and laughter. I clearly hear “menacing dog” and “ought to be put down.” The dog trots over to us, snuffling around our feet before peering at us with its large, brown eyes. “Hey boy.” Ryan scratches the dog’s head, and I grab the dog’s thick leather collar. “You’re a troublemaker,” Ryan says. “He’s a boy. I’m sure it comes naturally.” Ryan snorts. “I’ve known several girls that caused quite a bit of trouble.” Seconds after he says this, his eyes snap to mine to take in my reaction. I raise my eyebrows slightly. “How many is several? And were these girls’ girlfriends?” “Uh, not all of them.” “All of them? How many were there?” Ryan opens his mouth to respond, but no words come out. I laugh. “I’m just giving you a hard time.” Ryan chuckles but still answers, “One was a girlfriend—an ex-girlfriend, and the others only friends.” The dog’s breathless owner reaches us just then, and I recognize her as the lady who moved here seven months ago. “Hello, Lissa. Thanks for holding him. He’s a lot of dog to handle sometimes, but he’s a big baby. He’s dug so many holes in the park, I’m getting blisters from filling them all in,” she says, puffing. She clips on the leash and, with a wave to us, drags the dog back to the hole. The policeman holds out a shovel. I hear her sigh from here.

I’ve been showing Ryan around town for about two hours when I belatedly my promise to Darklily. I definitely do not want to get flipped off my bicycle again. With an excuse that I have an errand to run, I ditch Ryan and jog home. I start with the woods around my house, shouting her name. Ten minutes , and she still hasn’t made an appearance so I head deeper into the woods. I’m about to give up when a shadow flits through tree trunks. “Dark?” A roar causes me to fly backward and yell so loud I’m sure the whole town could’ve heard. Darklily rolls on the ground with laughter. “You should have seen your face!” she screeches through breaths of laughter. I put a hand on my hammering chest and wait for my heart to stop racing. “Would you stop trying to give me a heart attack! Between you and Trevor, I can’t catch a break. Keep it up, and I’ll be scaring you back.” “You couldn’t scare me if your life depended on it,” Dark snickers. “Besides, you deserve it. We were supposed to talk later, but instead you were with that male.” “I know. I’m sorry.” I’m about to say I’ve been preoccupied, but I don’t want to sound like I’m making excuses. “I’m here now, and we can talk as long as you want.” Her whiskers twitch. “Well, we just might have enough time.” I’m not going back in the house just yet so I suggest we hike to my special spot. The rock is just big enough for both of us to sit on. “So, what do you have to tell me?” I start. “Perhaps I should start by explaining the situation better. I come from Pandorma. It has been suffering for a time now at the claws of a man and woman known as Xavier and Medusa. They’ve been stealing tons of our valuable resources and selling these things on Earth. Wherever they go, they cause death and leave the

land bleak and ripped apart. A tiger named Cobalt recruited an army to try to stop them. Unfortunately, Medusa and Xavier retaliated by gathering their own army, and this began a war. We were doing okay, but then we started suffering major losses. Our warriors are being inflicted with horrific wounds that they have no way of surviving. Medusa is worse than Xavier. I’ve heard rumors that she kills any creature that doesn’t her army or those she simply dislikes. If they’re not stopped, our planet—my home—will be destroyed. I couldn’t watch Pandorma get ruined any longer. That is why I came to Earth to find you. Now that I have, we need to return to Pandorma. Time is running out.” Dark’s emerald eyes cut into mine as I slowly digest the information. My brain is still in overdrive from the events of the last couple days. None of this is sinking in. After the silence has stretched out, a question finally comes to mind, “Why me?” “Because you’re like them. You can take the form of every creature on Pandorma just like they can,” she states as if this is completely normal. I laugh. “Uhm, I’m human. I can’t turn into an animal. It’s not possible. My parents are normal so how would I be able to turn into animals?” She flicks her tail dismissively. “Perhaps they didn’t tell you they can shift?” I clasp my hands together. “Nope,” I say firmly. “My dad would have told me something like that.” By far this is the craziest of all the crazy things she’s said. “Well, someone in your family had to be able to shift or else you wouldn’t be able to.” Ludicrous. “If you’re right—not that I think there’s even a possibility you are— how do you know I can shift?” “Would you believe me if I told you?” I brush away some dirt on the rock. “Probably not,” I say slowly. “I can sense it.” Dark cocks her head when I give her a confused look. “It’s similar to being able to sense when you’re in danger or perhaps being lied to. In this case, I can sense your power. Being a shifter like Xavier and Medusa, you

hold a certain kind of power and energy.” This makes sense in a way, I guess—even if I can’t wrap my mind around it. “I still think you’re wrong.” “I’m not,” she says with certainty. She suddenly flicks her ears back. “The argument you had with that woman . . . you must be happy she’s left you for good.” I shrug one shoulder. “Yeah.” I mean, I should be relieved that I don’t have to listen to her anymore, but I’m miffed that she walked out on me so easily. It also irks me that I feel a sense of abandonment—and loss. Thankfully, Darklily speaks before my thoughts and emotions can spiral down that tunnel. “ the large male who spooked you? The one with yellow fur on his head?” “It’s called hair.” There’s only one person with blond hair who’s spooked me recently. “His name is Trevor.” “Well, after he left your house, he went into the woods. Guess what he did?” Dark’s eyes sparkle. “Um . . .” “He turned into a wolf!” I let out a short laugh. “What? Are you joking? Because that’s impossible. Next you’re going to be telling me Ryan can shift. Look, I’ve known Trevor all my life! There’s no way he can turn into a wolf.” I run my hands over my head and hold onto the back of my neck for a second before dropping them to my side. Why are things getting so crazy? I was supposed to graduate and move out of here, not have my parents move out first, not finally meet a guy that I actually like when I’m about to leave Abandon, and definitely not bump into a talking jaguar. I slide off the rock. “Give me time to think.” Dark flips her tail then her whiskers and ears twitch. “You don’t have much time. Two hours after the sun goes down, the portal to my world will no longer be

here.” “That’s too soon!” “Sorry but we’re fortunate a portal is opening as close as it is.” “But . . . I can’t just leave.” I can’t run off before graduation, before a new chapter in my life is about to begin. I can’t leave Dad either. I’m sure if I’m out of touch with him for more than a week he’ll worry. I yank a thread from the frayed hem of my sleeve. I’d worry more. I’ve never been away from him longer than two weeks and especially not in his current condition. “I would like you to come with me. My home desperately needs your help, but I can’t make the decision for you.” Two hours after the sun goes down? I look at the sky. The sun will be set in maybe half an hour. I can’t drop everything and leave. Or could I? My plan to leave Abandon after graduation isn’t set in stone. Maybe a short detour could even be beneficial. What would I tell Dad? I could not tell him anything, but then he might worry. I make a noise of exasperation and kick a rock off the edge of the plateau. “You have a little time,” Dark says. “Think about it. I’ll be waiting here.” I nod. “I’ll be back.” “Hurry. After the portal opens, we only have minutes before it will close.” The orange sun sparkles through the trees, making everything below turn to rose gold. I take a second to appreciate the colors then hurry through the woods, hoping I don’t trip over any roots or branches. Once in town I take a five-minute breathing pause before jogging to the library. Please be here, I hope desperately as I yank open the door. “We close in thirty minutes, Lissa,” Bertha, the late shift librarian, reminds me. “I know. I’ll only be a minute,” I call as I take the stairs two at a time. Trevor is tucked in his corner, headphones on, head bent over his pad.

“Trevor,” I gasp, out of breath. He jumps slightly—ha!—slips the headphones off, and gives me an annoyed look. I glance at his drawing. A barn owl is in the middle of the paper. Behind it, jaws wide ready to kill the bird, is a black wolf, its eyes wild with hunger. “What is it? Why are you out of breath?” I try to gather my scrambled thoughts. How to go about this? I can just outright ask him, but it’s how I ask that matters. If I want a straight, truthful answer, I need a straight face. If I ask like I’m thinking right now, jokingly, he’ll use it to his advantage. “Are you a werewolf?” I ask. Trevor’s face is stricken for a split second then snaps back to guarded. “No lying, Trevor. A friend of mine saw you transform, and now that I think about it, I’ve heard a wolf howling at night too.” “You mean you’ve heard coyotes howling. And what friend is that? Your current one isn’t much of an outdoors fan.” I purse my lips. That is true. Fawn dislikes anything beyond civilization. “Unless you’re throwing your boyfriend into that category.” “Ryan is not my boyfriend so stop calling him that. Now are you a werewolf or not?” Trevor looks out the window, his body tense. I move so that I’m more in front of him. “There’s no point in lying. I already know you are.” “Then why are you asking?” “A-ha. So I’m right.” “I didn’t say that.”

“Look, Trevor, I’m in a hurry, and I don’t have all night to go in circles. Tell me the truth.” He just sits there, stone still, working his jaw, his midnight eyes chaotic. “Come on. Please? You know I won’t stop pestering you.” Trevor chuckles, kind of. Virtually shoving his notepad off his lap, he walks over to the small window. “My uncle came to visit us a few weeks before I turned sixteen. He brought this box jam-packed with books about werewolves. Said the box was for me and told me to read the books. I read one, skimmed through most of them, but he asked me what I thought about shifting.” He shrugs. “Told him it sounded cool. Except I meant cool in a sense, not like actually being able to shift because who believes freaking werewolves are real, right? Couple days before my birthday, he takes me out into the woods and shares all these facts about werewolves. I got fed up and asked him if there was a reason he was telling me all this stupid stuff. He stopped walking, looked me in the eye and told me he was one.” He picks at a loose patch of paint on the windowsill. “I laughed. Can you blame me? Werewolves aren’t supposed to be real. But he insisted, and the next instant, right in front of my eyes, he changed. He went from human to wolf in seconds. I ran away.” Trevor shakes his head. Knowing Trevor, he’s probably still beating himself up about running away, but before I can say anything he continues. “I avoided him as much as I could, but the night before my birthday, he said I would shift soon and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I scoffed and tried to ignore him, but he kept prepping me for my first shift. Didn’t matter how much I denied it because, in the end, I shifted.” He takes in all the books, his eyes going around me. “It’s not like in the stories I know where you have to be bitten. I was born one, and I guess my father was one too but didn’t get the chance to tell me.” Trevor shrugs then looks at me, his eyes weighing my expression. I’m stuck between disbelief and understanding. Something significant that he

had no control over had changed his life. I can relate. But I can’t grasp the possibility of him taking the form of a wolf. “Is that why you pushed me away? You look the same. No one even knows.” “It’s one of those things that changes you on the inside,” Trevor says. I scratch the back of my head and watch him mess with the books on the shelf. “How come—why didn’t you trust me?” I duck my head as I say this, only meeting Trevor’s gaze after the question has hung in the air a moment. He starts to shrug again but stops himself, looking pained. “I didn’t . . . I’m a freak. What if you saw me as one too?” I step closer to him, my heart warming. “The only thing that makes you a freak is thinking that your friend since baby years isn’t going to understand. Have you not been around for some of the things that happen in Abandon? You being a werewolf hardly takes the cake,” I tease, hoping it’ll put him at ease. He flashes me one of his rare, genuine grins. I’d forgotten how nice a smile he has. What are the chances we’ll patch up our friendship? I could certainly use him in my corner again. I blink, refocusing my thoughts. I don’t have time to contemplate our friendship right now. “So who is this friend?” he asks. “Her name is Darklily. She’s”—I clear my throat—“that jaguar I was telling you about.” He stares at me skeptically. “The jaguar that talked to you is your friend. Are you feeling okay?” “Trevor!” He rubs the back of his neck. “Sorry but it’s hard to believe that an animal can talk.” “I’m believing you’re a werewolf!” “All right, all right. Pretending for a minute that you’re telling the truth and not just seeing things . . .”

I give him a look. “Why did this jaguar talk to you?” “Don’t make fun of me, okay?” I request, even though I’m sure he will. “She told me she’s from this place called Pandorma but she came here to find me. She says there’s like a war destroying her planet and she needs my help stopping it.” Trevor throws back his head and laughs. “You’ve always had a great imagination, Lissa, but making up stories about talking jaguars and foreign wars at seventeen? That’s a little much even for you.” “I’m not making it up!” “Why is she asking you for help instead of someone else? What are you supposed to be able to do to help?” I narrow my eyes a bit. Typical Trevor, bluntly honest. “I could be plenty of help but . . . Darklily says I can shift into animals.” My eyes dart to the books on a top shelf. Saying it out loud only makes it sound more absurd. “Right. A werewolf can always sense another werewolf, and I don’t get that vibe from you, your dad, or your mom.” He packs up his stuff. “The library is closing soon. Let me know if you decide to go fight this war.” “I’ll do that,” I huff, following him down the stairs. His response is a bark of laughter. He waves to Bertha then props open the door and jerks his head, motioning for me to go out first. “In fact, I’m leaving tonight.” I’m not sure when I jumped to this decision, but the words are out of my mouth before I can approve them. But going to help Darklily feels right. Trevor pauses and looks at me funny. “Leaving where? To Cardinal City?” “I just told you. To Pandorma.” He shakes his head and scolds, “Lissa, be serious. What about your dad?” My heart squeezes with uncertainty, but I ignore it. “He’ll be fine. If I don’t help

Darklily, her home could be destroyed.” “You know, you almost sound like you truly believe your own story. All these years, you’ve fit right in with the Abandoneaks, who knew.” I move my jaw to the right then the left. I don’t know how or where that nickname got started, but I’ve never liked hearing it. Maybe because Mom used the word too and when she did, I knew she was basically calling those people trash. He’s not one to be calling anybody a freak, anyway. “I don’t have time for your games. Darklily gave me two hours, and I just wasted an hour running here to let you know I’ll be gone. I’ll see you later.” I listen for him to either mock me or stop me, but he doesn’t do either and I don’t look back to see if he’s still there. Back home, I rush to my room and grab my backpack, dumping the contents on the floor. I look down at my yoga pants and T-shirt. I don’t know what kind of territory I’m headed into, but if it’s woodland I need to be wearing jeans. I quickly change into my bootcut jeans and pull on a dark green T-shirt, bunching up the extra fabric and knotting it to the left side. I dig my sneakers out of my closet then pull my hair back into a ponytail. I fill the timed fish feeder with food and change out the filter. They should be okay until I come home. I grab a second pair of socks and my favorite blue hoodie and shove them into the backpack along with the light jacket. I then hurry downstairs to the kitchen. I grab a handful of protein bars and three water bottles. Sticking my thumbnail between my teeth, I make a full circle. What else should I take? I’m probably forgetting a bunch of essential items, but I don’t have time to give this a thorough think. I shut off the lights and fling open the door. I stop short just in time to keep from crashing into Ryan. “Whoa!” he says. “Ryan! What are you doing here?” I shut the door behind me. “I know it’s late but—” He notices the backpack. “Are you going somewhere?” I inch toward the porch steps. “Uh, I’m taking a trip.” He tips his head, and his brows furrow.

“It was last minute. This is all I had time to pack.” I step off the porch and glance towards the woods. It’d be kind of strange if I headed that way, but I don’t have much of a choice. I don’t know how long it took me to run home and pack, and that desperate feeling I get when I don’t want to be left behind is setting off warning bells. “I’ll probably be back in like a week or so. If you’re not here, I’m glad I got to meet you.” I half wave then turn and head for the woods. It must take him a moment to process everything because I’ve already entered the woods when he catches up to me. “Hold up! You’re taking a trip to the woods?” Thankfully, the half-moon is shining brightly, and it’s easy to follow the path. “If I told you, you’d never believe me. Part of me doesn’t even fully believe it.” “Believe what?” After today, I may never see him again so I’ve got nothing to lose telling him the crazy story. “About four, maybe five, days ago I met this jaguar, and she, believe it or not, can talk. And I mean words, not meowing. Anyway, she says she comes from this place called Pandorma, and I guess it’s in trouble and she thinks I can help.” “Lissa, you’re not making any sense. Can you slow down?” he asks, nearly tripping over a root. I shake my head. “I don’t want her to leave without me.” “I know you were upset earlier today. Does this have anything to do with that?” “No.” Kind of. But I’m not changing my mind now. Ryan catches my hand, forcing me to a stop. “Breathe for a second. What’s going on?” I do take a deep breath, but it doesn’t quell my urgency and I really can’t explain what’s going on since I’m not entirely sure myself. “I know I sound crazy, but I swear I’m not. If you follow me, you can see for yourself.” I start walking again.

“You sound more like you’re running from something.” This gives me pause, and I glance back at him. Life, maybe. My thoughts are racing so fast I can’t put them into words. “I have to go,” I say faintly and turn away. “Wait. I’ll go with you.” Neither of us say a thing as we tramp through the woods, and when we reach the spot where I left Darklily, she’s nowhere in sight. I make a full circle. No, she couldn’t have left. “Darklily?” I call out hopefully. A twig snaps, and Ryan places himself in front of me. A large figure flits through the trees. Then Darklily pounces into view. Ryan stumbles backward and, finding a rock, flings it at Dark. “Lissa run!” He has found another rock, but I grab his arm. “Don’t. This is the jaguar I was telling you about. Ryan, Darklily, and Darklily, this is Ryan.” Dark sounds impressed as she comments, “He has better reflexes. I went to catch my last easy meal. Hunting on Pandorma isn’t like hunting here.” She looks behind her. “I also found your yellow-furred friend looking for you.” The tip of her tail twitches. I step around Ryan, his arm lifting halfway as if to stop me. “Trevor?” “The way you were acting, I was kind of worried after you left,” Trevor says as he approaches. He lowers his voice. “I had to make sure you weren’t going to do something crazy. But if you are, I want to do it with you. Just like old times.” A smile spreads across my lips. “I—” “Lissa, over here,” Dark interrupts. She’s standing at the edge of the drop, her lungs heaving. I stand next to her. “What are you sniffing for? I’ve explored these woods a

thousand times. There’s no planet around here.” “This view is incredible,” Ryan breathes, taking in the scene before us. It does look especially beautiful with the moonlight casting a filmy white glow on the branches and leaves. “If only I had paper and pencils,” he says wistfully. Trevor mutters something. I make a mental note to bring Ryan here again. I didn’t know he was an artist. I’ll have to ask him about that later. “Ready?” Dark’s tail is bushed, the fur along her spine risen in excitement. Ryan and I look at each other in confusion, but Trevor looks vaguely intrigued. Right, he’s got a wolf side to him now. He must be picking up on something. Suddenly, there’s a forceful whoosh of warm air. I take a deep breath. It’s like nothing I’ve ever smelled. The air is just different. Laced with so many rich scents I have trouble picking out individual ones. It smells like fresh air after it’s rained, earthy like plants, sweet like fruit. It also smells like ashes from a fire and flowers in bloom—the list seems endless. Just as soon as it blows over us, it ebbs away, leaving an upsetting vacancy of smells. “What was that?” I breathe. Darklily purrs proudly. “That is my world, Pandorma. We must hurry before the portal closes. Jump.”

Chapter 7

We stare at her. Jump where? To our deaths? This ledge must be at least forty feet up, maybe more. Dark’s emerald eyes reflect ghostly green in the moonlight. “See this?” She waves a spotted paw in a circle. I peer closer and faintly make out a disturbance. A shimmery veil hanging about six feet away. It almost gives the appearance of water. Moonlight streams through it but is reflecting back, causing a faint glistening pool of light. “Go. But whatever you do, do not move until I am there.” Darklily’s voice is urgent and dead serious. She narrows her eyes when Trevor steps up to the ledge. I have no doubt that he’ll make it, but when he jumps, fear briefly grips me. The veil shudders and spreads like a silent splash of water then reverts to its original form. It happens in a split second. “This is insane,” Ryan murmurs. Dark indicates with her tail that I’m next. I gulp. I’m not the most impressive jumper. Even with a running start, I’m afraid I won’t be able to cover the distance. Ryan lightly grabs my wrist. “Lissa, maybe you should think about this more. I’m still having trouble wrapping my mind around her,” he gestures to Dark. Her whiskers twitch. “We could be walking into danger. We don’t know what’s on the other side of this . . . portal.” I know he’s right, but I don’t want to stop and think. This is an incredible opportunity, and there’s no way I’m ing it up. Since when does a girl get to travel to a new planet? “I’m doing this. But I understand if—” “No. I’m going with you,” he says, his lips pressing together. “You need to move a little faster,” Dark meows. I walk up to the ledge and look down.

“Don’t look down,” Ryan scolds. “When I say hurry, I mean go,” Darklily snaps. “Okay, okay.” This might go better if I get a nice, long running head start. I walk away, and when I turn around, Ryan is trying to hide a smile. “Can you still see the portal from there?” “Yes, I can still see the portal.” I’m pretty sure it’s straight ahead. I take a deep breath, gather up some determination with my closed fists, then run. Everything seems to slow once my foot pushes off the ground. The veil draws closer, and I make out obscure gray shapes on the other side. The tip of my shoe hits the edge —then slips. My scream comes out as a choked gurgle. I think I hear Ryan yell, but everything is muffled. My arms catch the frame of the veil, and it quivers and stretches. A smooth, flat surface without an edge for help, I desperately dig my elbows and fingertips in, my brain screaming, Don’t fall! Don’t fall! Don’t fall! Adrenaline rushes through my veins, and my heart pounds painfully as I frantically pull the upper half of my body up. A soft whoosh comes from inside the veil. The ends of my hair blow around my face, and my arms start to slide deeper into the veil. Using all my strength, I get one leg partially up when I’m wrenched in the rest of the way. I must have closed my eyes because, when I open them, I’m lying in the dirt. I roll over onto my belly and drop my head against the earth. That was close. A body thumps to the ground next to me, and hands grasp my shoulders. “You okay?” Ryan asks, panic raising his voice an octave. I swallow then nod. I roll back over, and Ryan pulls me to my feet. “Are you sure?” he asks. I smile weakly at such intense concern. “Yes.” Dark flies through the portal, brushing against Ryan’s side. He scowls at her, but

she doesn’t even notice. “Where’s Trevor?” she asks. “Here.” Trevor emerges from a cluster of leaves to my right. Strange leaves. Clumps of three-leafed plants growing several feet apart surround us. The leaves must be eight feet wide and twenty feet high. The middle of the leaf is dark green, the edges a deep purple. I arc my head at the perfect blue sky then back at the leaves. We just went from night to day. I can’t believe it. We really are on a different planet. But how? Ryan’s looking up at the sky, but then he bends down and grabs a handful of dirt. “We’re not dreaming, right?” I grin. “Nope.” “I think we need to head this way,” Dark says, sounding uncertain. Ryan processes this faster than I do. “You think?” Darklily pins her ears back, “It’s a big planet, and it’s rare for a portal to appear in the same place twice. I haven’t been everywhere on my planet. Have you been everywhere on yours?” Ryan’s jaw clenches. He moves closer to my side and looks around, less amazed now and more nervous. “We’re safe right now,” Dark assures us, having picked up on his apprehension. Ryan looks at me to see if I believe her, and I shrug. We don’t really have the option of whether we should believe her or not. I look at Trevor to see what he thinks, but he’s staring at the ground, his eyes narrowed, his chest moving in and out. Dark walks over to me. “We’d better get moving. It’s always best not to stay in one place for long. An extra nose would be helpful.” Trevor gets the hint and goes behind the leaves. When he reappears, he’s a wolf. His fur is dirty blond like his hair, although the brown seems to be darker and

more prominent than the blond, the exact opposite when he’s human. I crouch down in front of him. “You really are a werewolf. That’s awesome.” He gives me a wolfish grin. “Thanks.” I fall back on my heels. “You can talk? I thought werewolves could only communicate to others in their head or something like that.” “Am I talking to you in your head?” I’m about to throw back a sarcastic response, but Ryan interrupts, “What the heck? Lissa, he’s a werewolf?” I slowly turn toward him, dragging out the word, “Yeah.” “The . . . is there anything else I should know?” “ I said her world is in trouble? Well, there’s these people, a man and woman, and—” Dark steps between us and immediately gets to the point. “Lissa is here to stop the war, and what she’s up against are two very powerful shifters.” She looks at Trevor then Ryan. “You two should’ve stayed on your world. This way.” She takes the lead, continually disappearing then reappearing. Trevor stays behind us but within hearing distance, I’m sure. “Sorry we dumped everything on you like that.” I run my hand down a ing leaf. It isn’t soft and doesn’t bend or give in at my touch. “I know hearing it all it’s pretty inconceivable. I’m not even sure it’s sunk in yet for me.” “I guess it would’ve been hard explaining all of that on our dash through the woods, so I forgive you.” “Forgive me?” I look at him in surprise then see he’s teasing. The next second, he’s turned serious. “Darklily mentioned a war?” I put my hands in my back pockets. “Well, the way Dark put it, Medusa and Xavier, the bad guys, are stealing resources from here and selling them on Earth.

The animals didn’t like it so they formed an army. In retaliation, Medusa and Xavier formed their own army, and it turned into a war.” Ryan rubs his neck, his brows furrowing in concentration. “I’m assuming all the animals here are like Darklily then, able to talk and think like us.” “I hadn’t thought about it, but yeah, I guess so.” I pause at the next clump of leaves and, palms out, lean my weight against it. I jerk back. Leaning against it must’ve exposed some kind of barb. “Why does she think you’re going to stop this war?” he asks. I brush off the miniscule spots of blood on my hands. Hopefully it’s not poisonous. “Ha, well, brace yourself. She claims I can shift.” Ryan stops and faces me. “You?” Trevor catches up to us and pauses as well. “Like him?” “No. Dark says I’m like Medusa and Xavier—I can shift into every animal. On Pandorma,” I add. It sounded significant when Dark pointed it out, though I don’t know why. “That’s not true though,” Trevor pipes up, taking his human form. He sidles up to me and without warning, leans over and sniffs my neck. “Cut it out!” I exclaim, pulling my shoulder up to my ear and shooing him away. Trevor bumps me with his shoulder, “If it were, I would know.” Ryan watches us. Whatever’s going through his head, it doesn’t show on his face. “Why have you stopped?” Dark asks. “We need to keep moving.” We start walking and Trevor takes his wolf form again. “These plants aren’t poisonous, are they? Also, where are we headed?” I’m also wondering when we’ll get out of this leafy forest. I want to see what lies ahead. What else is exciting and different about this place?

“The land called Vacant Stones,” Dark answers simply as if we know where that is. “And they aren’t poisonous.” “How far away is this place?” Ryan asks. Dark flicks her tail. “Too far.” She presses forward, her steps caught between uncertain and purposeful. “What happens when we get there?” I ask, poking a leaf. She falters. “You’ll get trained, hopefully. Then you can defeat Medusa and Xavier.” “What kind of training?” I drag my foot across the top layer of loose, chunky dirt. Dark shakes her head. “I’ve never trained a shifter before.” “If she is a shifter,” Trevor puts in doubtfully just as Ryan asks, “She’s not taking both of them on at once, is she?” Dark doesn’t respond to either of them, and I shrug in answer to Ryan’s question. We haven’t gone much farther when Trevor remarks, “Guys, it smells like we’re heading toward something that’s burning.” He looks at Dark, his ears twitching with uncertainty. I take a deep breath. I can’t smell anything significant. Darn. “It’s hard to tell though—there are too many scents,” Trevor its. “It’s not fire,” Dark reassures, so we press forward. Snippets of light fight their way through the thickly grown leaves. Three steps, and I’m out of the leafy forest. I gasp. Spread before us are billowing columns of white smoke that lazily swim up into the sky out of numerous fissures in the earth. The smoke endlessly rolling upward creates a smoky blue sky. Beyond the fissures, the land curves up, almost like a ginormous meteorite slammed down and broke the earth, causing it to crack open in agony. I squint to see what’s beyond the fissures, but it’s pointless trying to see past the clouds of smoke.

“I guess I took the wrong way,” Dark says, sounding a little mortified. “We’ll just go around,” Trevor, who has shifted back into human form, says affirmatively then looks at Dark for agreement. He sure can change forms fast. Her whiskers twitch. “We could, but if we go the wrong way, it’ll be a waste of precious time.” Dark walks in one direction then the other. A breeze springs up, carrying with it a blend of pleasant, indecipherable smells. Dark murmurs something about strawberries then says, “We’ll head this way.” Trotting, she sets off in the direction the breeze had blown. I take breath after breath, but I can’t smell strawberries. How unfair. Imagine being able to pick up information just by breathing in air. Animals have the most incredible abilities. Dark telling me that I’m a shifter sneaks into my thoughts. I don’t want to entertain the idea, but it refuses to leave. What if it hurts more than I can bear? I’ve been in pain before but nothing serious. I’ll bet the pain goes away at some point—Trevor shifts without pain. The pain doesn’t scare me so much. My eyes dart over to Ryan. What would he think of me? I could go from being a normal girl to some mutant, shapeshifting girl—not even a regular werewolf. This could probably do more than douse the sparks between us. I bet it could vaporize them into nonexistence. I’m starting to see why Trevor chose to simply cut me out of his life. I put more distance between Ryan and me. He gives me a curious look but doesn’t comment. Trevor wanders in and out of sight. Darklily’s rapid pace puts her far ahead, but I glimpse her every now and then. I picture myself easily keeping pace with them in the form of a tiger, and my body hums with excitement. A pinching sensation runs along my spin. No. No. I quickly dash the thought, and the sensation gradually dies away. I exhale relief and keep my mind firmly grounded by counting clouds or how many times Darklily pauses to sniff the air.

When we reach the field of strawberries, I pluck one off and stare at it in amazement. It must be the size of a plum. I take a bite. The flavor is rich and makes my taste buds beg for more. I quickly grab another when I’m done with the first. “These are huge.” “Biggest strawberry I’ve ever seen,” Ryan says, just as amazed as I am. Trevor barely gives the strawberries a second glance. “Everything here is going to be bigger,” he states. “There’s more oxygen.” That must be why I’m feeling a tad lightheaded. I walk over to Dark, who has her front paws on a tree. “This tree should hold. Don’t leave the area.” She nimbly scales up the trunk. A few bushes are scattered about at the edges of the field and some other plants have wrestled their way in, but otherwise the ground is entirely engulfed in strawberry plants. Ryan and I continue eating the strawberries. Trevor, a few feet away in human form, leans against a thin tree, his eyes lazily closed and head tipping to the side occasionally. Seeing him sleep makes me realize that I’m supposed to be in bed or getting ready for bed, to get an early start on leaving for Cardinal City. Ew. I flick off an abnormally big bug. Everything will still be there when I get back. I eat my next strawberry slowly, taking in our surroundings. There’s forest on one side and savannah stretching into the sky on the other. It looks decidedly wild, and I suddenly feel very out of place. I might not be able to smell everything Trevor and Dark can, but I can pick up on some things. Every so often, there’s a strange bellow, and it’s starting to put me on edge. Living near a forest, I’ve heard some weird noises, but none of these are familiar. Dark drops out of the tree. “We go this way.” Trevor shakes the sleep from his eyes and sits up straighter. “Keep going toward the sunset?” he asks, all trace of weariness gone. Dark nods. I pick another strawberry. “Grab a handful so we can keep moving,” Trevor tells us.

I pick one more. “One rule you always follow here: if you’re not at the top of the food chain, you keep moving,” Dark says grimly. I frown slightly. “I find it hard to believe you’re not at the top, Dark.” “There are things out there much bigger than me,” she says, flattening her ears. I share a glance with Ryan. There are things bigger than Dark? She stands at four feet and is who-knows-how-many pounds. I nervously take in our surroundings but don’t see anything aside from landscape. Hopefully we don’t run into anything. The grove of strawberries soon ends, and we step onto the savannah. Growing in patches is knee-high, dry brown grass with very little green grass growing at the base of the plant. Tall, narrow trees and bushes spot the land. I spy some elephants and a small cluster of zebras farther off and, to my left, faint mountains. “We’ll give the zebras a wide berth in case there are lions hunting them,” Dark warns. “Well, that’s reassuring.” I sweep my gaze over the savannah to see if I can spot any lions melting into the grass like chameleons. Dark walks more slowly now, her ears swiveling in every direction. All I hear are birds. “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you,” Trevor mocks. I lightly punch his shoulder. “Oh hush.” “Ow,” he laughs. Ryan catches up to Darklily, Trevor shifts, and we fall in behind them. The farther we walk, the more I regret not packing more water. We’re down to one bottle, and I don’t want to open it because I don’t know how much longer we’ll be walking in this heat. My mouth is parched, my legs wobble with fatigue, and sweat rolls down my skin in rivers. The heat is scorching, and the slight breeze that had been blowing before has long since stopped. We’ve only

rested twice. Trevor offered me a ride, but I refused. We’re all hot and having me on his back would only make him hotter. Sweat has soaked Ryan’s T-shirt and mine, while Trevor and Darklily pant heavily. “I thought once the sun ed its peak—” I start. Darklily’s head snaps up, and she cuts me off. “This way.” She takes off, and we have no choice but to follow. Dark skids to a halt after sprinting what feels like halfway across the savannah. When we catch up to her my stomach clenches at the smell and sight. Masses of dead animals lay strewn about. Vultures, crocodiles, lions, bears, hyenas, and other predators feast on the mauled carcasses. That’s the least shocking thing. Like roses in a patch of daisies, dinosaur bodies stand out from the rest. I get closer to one so I can make sure my eyes aren’t playing tricks on me. It’s an Edmontosaurus, and a few feet away, a type of duckbill. It isn’t just herbivores that are dead. There are predators as well: Albertosaurus, Utah raptor, Allosaurus, bears, wolves, tigers, and other predators. The animals that aren’t being torn apart by the feasting predators have horrific injuries, their guts peppered across the ground. I cover my mouth and fight to keep down the strawberries I just ate. My gaze wanders to Ryan. He’s standing next to an elephant, his face frozen. I walk over to him, and as I round the hulking body of the elephant, I understand why he looks frightened. There’s a Tyrannosaurus Rex. No way. I squat down and pick up one of the banana-size teeth lying by its broken jaw. Yep, it’s real. “These guys are supposed to be extinct.” Ryan blows out a breath and runs a hand through his hair. He looks both amazed and terrified, which is just how I feel. I’ve watched plenty of movies and TV shows on dinosaurs and have collected several books—but that’s nothing compared to seeing the real thing. “Did you know?” he breathes, and I shake my head. Trevor, his ears pinned back and the fur along his back standing up, keeps his

distance from the dead animals. Dark is crouched beside one animal, her teeth bared in anger. I walk up to her as she’s walking away from the animal. “What happened?” Her tail snaps back and forth. “I told you we are at war. This looks like it was a minor battle though. Wait until we come across a battlefield with hundreds dead.” I’m about to express how awful that is when a terrible screech pounds against my eardrums. “Run!” Darklily shrieks and races away. We run after her without question, into the taller grass beneath a tree, and crouch down. Predators feasting scatter as a giant pterosaur lands, leaning down and swallowing a ripped-off rhino leg whole. Fear chills my blood when the bird catches sight of me. Its eyes are coal black and icy. The giant bird’s penetrating gaze seems to shrivel the grass and put me on display. Run, run, run! my brain screams, but I’m frozen. “Darklily we need to get out of here,” Ryan hisses. The bird’s eyes remain locked on me, and it feels like my death is already sealed. The second the pterosaur’s wings open, Ryan pulls me up by the elbow, tugging me in the other direction. Darklily cries, “No!” but Ryan grabs my hand and runs. “Ryan, she said no,” I yell, but it’s no use—he has a steel grip on my hand. I don’t feel like stopping myself because panic has taken over and the urge to run is propelling me forward. A powerful gust of cool air blows down on my back. On instinct, I dive for the ground, sending us tripping and rolling. The hairs on the back of my neck rise as I watch the bird’s claws gouge the ground where we

had just been. Panicked, I stumble to get back on my feet, the word run being drilled mercilessly through my skull. The pterosaur whacks Ryan away with one wing then shoves me back to the ground with a push from its other wing. My lungs feel like they’ve been crushed by a compacter, and when they finally expand again, it’s like I breathe in searing smoke. The ground trembles as the pterosaur slams its foot down, and I scream, trapped beneath its giant talon, which is about the size of my upper body. It leans down, the tip of its beak hovering above my neck. “You’re no shifter. Go back to your planet. Humans don’t belong here.” The bird’s voice is deep and scratchy. Its black eyes are demeaning, and I squeeze mine shut. With one flap, it takes off, the tip of its wing slapping my cheek. Breathless and terrified, I keep my eyes closed and cradle my stinging cheek, my body going limp. Hot, panting breaths blow across my face. I open my eyes to find Trevor looking down at me, his eyes full of concern. “Are you okay?” he asks, snuffling up and down my body. “Yes. I’m okay,” I say weakly and sit up. Trevor turns to Ryan and snarls, “What were you thinking? You could’ve gotten her killed!” Ryan is crouched not far away and runs a trembling hand through his hair. He doesn’t speak for a minute then, with forced calmness, responds, “It was going to come after her.” “Idiot.” Trevor dips his head, his bunched muscles quivering. Dark quickly steps between them, the picture of calm. “He reacted on instinct. That’s all.” But Trevor is not so easily put off. “That’s no excuse. You told him to stay, and he kept going,” he growls. “If Lissa had gotten killed . . .” He trails off, but there’s no need for him to finish, his

threat clear. My voice trembles somewhat as I wheeze, “He only did what he thought was best.” “What would you have done, Trevor? Sit there and let that thing kill her?” Ryan asks, his voice deepening. Trevor responds with a snarl and crouches low. “I would’ve protected her! I wouldn’t do something stupid that could get her killed.” He leaps, but Dark crashes into him before he can tackle Ryan. They roll over and over, growling and hissing, Dark striking out with her claws while Trevor snaps his teeth. I want to yell at them to stop, but I can’t take a deep enough breath. Just as quickly as the fight began, it ends with Dark on top. Trevor struggles defiantly, but Dark easily keeps him pinned. “Are you really going to start an unfair fight? Who’s being stupid now?” Dark reprimands. She pushes off him. He shakes out his fur and throws Ryan a glare but doesn’t move to attack him again. “We’ll rest here for a moment and cool off. Then we’ll continue.” Dark lashes her tail as if to punctuate her words. She and I move under the shade of a tree. She gives them both a cutting look, her eyes narrowed. “You’ll have to teach me how to take someone down like that,” I weakly joke. Dark watches Trevor walk one way and Ryan the other, giving her coat a firm shake. “What did the bird say to you?” “He said I’m not a shifter, that I should go back to Earth because humans don’t belong here.” She lets out a faint hiss and lashes her tail. “He must’ve attacked because he sensed you’re a shifter but, when you didn’t fight back, decided he was wrong. He’ll be sure to let Xavier and Medusa know people are on Pandorma, which is

bad news for all of us. We’d better move. Now! Let’s go!” she calls to the boys as she trots away. It takes all the mental willpower in me to stand and follow. When Trevor and Ryan catch up, she fills them in, “We’re not safe here. I’m sure that bird will warn Medusa of your presence, and the last thing we want is for her to find us.” Ryan’s anger immediately dissipates. Trevor, on the other hand, doesn’t lose his scowl. He resolutely sticks by my side, as if he’s appointed himself as my personal guard from Ryan. “Do you still think I’m at the top of the food chain, Lissa?” Dark asks lightly. “I had no idea,” I say. Ryan was right when he suggested we might be walking into danger. I glance at him then Trevor. Both are here because of me. What exactly have I gotten us into?

A wide river sluggishly flowing by prompts the earth to produce more greenery. Trevor jumps in, diving under and resurfacing a short distance down the river. Ryan heads in without a second thought, but I take off my shoes, shoving my socks inside, before following. The cool water feels amazing after the scorching heat of the savannah. The loose, mossy rocks on the river bottom squish and roll beneath my feet, causing me to stumble frequently. I smile at the tiny fish gathered in the deeper pockets of water near the river’s bank. They dart to safety if my shadow falls across them. As I near the deeper part of the river, the water turns murky. I stop. Farther ahead, Dark and Trevor are in up to their shoulders, their powerful strokes quickly taking them to the other side. Ryan, his back to me, wades a few feet ahead. There are few things that can make my spine crawl. Murky water is one of them. If I can’t see what’s beneath my feet, my imagination loves to fill my head with ideas of what could be lurking in the water. There’s probably nothing but crayfish, but there’s always a chance there could be something else in the water. Especially here, on a planet I know nothing about. Which somehow has living

dinosaurs. I slide one foot back. Maybe the river narrows at another part. “Are you coming?” Ryan asks. “Yeah.” There’s nothing but tiny fish. I force one foot forward then the other. My foot slides over a slimy rock, which rolls across my ankle. A squeal nearly escapes my lips. I bite the inside of my cheek. Thank goodness I didn’t scream. Ryan slips and barely keeps himself from going under. The larger rock I’d placed a foot on suddenly rolls sideways. Automatically, I sink into a crouch so that I won’t fall. Water flows over my shoulders and across my lips, soaking me before I can jump back up. My now-drenched shirt hugs my body, and my shoes and the backpack are laden with water. Sighing, I keep my head firmly up and wade to shore. “Nice fall,” Trevor snickers when I sit beside him and the others. He’s gone back to human form. “I didn’t fall. I caught myself.” “Sure. I thought you were a goner for a minute there.” “Ha, ha hilarious.” I mime laughter as I squeeze out my hair then work on wringing water from my shirt. Dark juts her nose into the air, her face turning to the sun, which is beginning to settle over faraway mountains. “There isn’t enough light left for your clothes to dry before dark. They might dry faster if you take them off and wring them out.” I pause wringing the side of my shirt. “Um, I don’t think so. Undressing with a male audience is not something I’m going to do.” “I don’t want you to get cold, and it will cool down with darkness—it has

already,” Dark points out, giving her pelt another shake, sprinkling me with flecks of water. “It’s summer. I’ll be fine. I brought a hoodie,” I add. “I’ll put it on if I get cold.” “Oh, come on Lissa, we’re all friends here,” Trevor says in a cajoling tone. I glare at him. “You hush,” I grumble. Dark shakes her head. “Stay put.” While she’s gone, I wring out my shirt more as well as my socks, grimacing as water squishes around my shoe-bound feet. I hand out energy bars then inspect the contents of my backpack. Nothing’s too wet. I sling the backpack over my shoulder. She returns a moment later. “We should be okay. I couldn’t find any territory markers.” Only a few feet inside the forest, the light becomes dim. The trees are abundant with leaves or needles. The tops, soaring to the sky, can’t be seen from below. I take in a deep breath, enjoying the earthy smell of the forest. Dark stops in front of a giant, gnarled tree with wide, low branches. “We’ll be safer off the ground,” she explains. I look behind us. We’ve barely entered the forest I can still see the vanishing sun and the short grassland we crossed to reach it. “Shouldn’t we go into the forest a little farther?” “No. The farther in we go, the more dangerous it could be. We need to set off before the sun wakes and put as much land behind us as possible. Aside from keeping Medusa off our tails, one of the dying creatures told me that Cobalt is considering a surrender. I can’t let her do that.” Dark expertly hops onto a high branch. “It would certainly defeat the purpose of you coming to get me.” I tilt my head back to see her. Her whiskers twitch. “Among other reasons.” She gracefully scales higher up the

tree. “I think I’ll stay down here,” Trevor says. “Scared of climbing?” I taunt. “You really shouldn’t stay on the ground.” Dark’s warning floats down from above, but Trevor dismisses it with the flick of a furry ear. I focus my attention on the lowest branch, which is a daunting foot above my head. I’ll need some kind of notch or branch stub— “Do you want a lift?” Ryan asks. “You’d love to give her one, wouldn’t you,” Trevor remarks under his breath. My face warms. “No, I can get up.” I locate a couple small notches in the tree trunk then hoist myself up so I can reach the first branch. I dig my fingers in hard then try to find a notch with my foot. “Don’t even,” I grunt when I glimpse Ryan behind me. Using notches in the trunk, I maneuver my way up onto the branch. I climb a branch higher then look up. Darklily must be at least twenty feet above us. I climb after her, stretching and weaving around branches, my muscles quivering with the exertion. At a loud snap, I look down to see Ryan’s knuckles white from hanging onto his branch. The one I assume was beneath his feet is gone. He grunts as he pulls himself back up. “That was close,” he says breathlessly. “Hey, Ordinary Boy, if you fall, don’t expect me to catch you,” Trevor shouts. “Don’t be a jerk, Trevor,” I call. He lets out a bark of laughter. “How do you put up with him?” Ryan asks as he pauses by me. “We’ve known each other since we were kids,” I say, tracing a crevice in the

bark. “He’s not always such a pain. Scratch that—he is, but he’s always more of a pain when he feels threatened.” “Ah,” is all Ryan says before he continues climbing. I look down and am hit by the realization of how high up I am. On impulse, I clutch my branch tighter. Leaves and branches have hidden most of Trevor, but that tawny spot looks like it could be him. He can’t be serious about staying down there alone, not after all those predators we saw. “Trevor?” I call. “Yeah?” “Why don’t you come up?” “Don’t feel like climbing,” he answers. “Hey!” I yelp as a branch knocks the side of my head then scrapes my arm on its path down. “Sorry. That branch was weaker than I thought,” Ryan says. “How about a warning?” I rub my head. I wouldn’t be surprised if I have a bump in the morning. “I was busy trying not to fall.” I’ve gone about five more feet when another branch, this one larger, crashes down, narrowly missing me. “Ryan!” “Heads up!” he yells in panting breaths. Tree climbing is clearly not one of his strengths. “It’s a little late now. Let me guess, you were trying not to fall,” I say. I look up when he grunts. His legs wildly kick out, and with straining muscles, he slowly hauls himself back onto the branch. Curbing laughter, I climb to a branch close to him. “I think I’ll sit here for a minute,” Ryan says sweat trickling down his forehead.

I bite my bottom lip. “That was not funny.” “Sorry.” But I can’t stop from giggling, “But it kinda was from below. Why do you keep picking dead branches?” I ask with feigned confusion, and he gives me a look that only makes me laugh more. Ryan sinks back against the tree so I continue climbing. “Finally,” Dark mutters when at last I reach her level. “If you hadn’t noticed, we’re not cats.” I wipe bits of bark and dirt off on my jeans, my red hands already sprouting small blisters. Dark points in front of her. “This limb is thick enough. Sleep here.” “What about Ryan?” I scoot along my branch until I can climb up to the one Dark picked. “You can share. You might want to hold on to him,” she remarks, and it only sounds like she’s half joking. “Where will you be?” I grunt as I flop onto the chosen limb. She looks down, and I follow her gaze but don’t understand what she’s looking at. “If something tries to climb up, I’ll hear and stop it first,” she explains. “Better hurry up down there before it gets dark,” Dark calls to Ryan. She makes her way down a couple branches then picks one and stretches out on it. I scoot farther out on the branch then turn around so that I’ll be facing Ryan. I snap part of a nearby dead branch and hang the backpack on it. I lie on my belly but my hand is no match for cushioning the rough bark, especially after all that climbing. I take out my hoodie, fold it, and rest my cheek on it. “Where do I sleep?” Ryan asks. My eyebrows knit in pity. The hair on his forehead is damp, and he looks ready to fall over.

I pat the space in front of me. “You can sleep here. Or pick a different branch.” He moves from his limb to mine. “I should’ve brought rope. Among other things.” Releasing a heavy breath, he leans against the trunk and stares up at the sky— what little of it can be seen. I crane my neck, but that quickly becomes uncomfortable. Fireflies glow among the trees like little sprites, dancing to the symphony of crickets with the occasional owl chiming in. When my eyes drift back to Ryan, I find him studying me. The intensity of his gaze makes my cheeks flush. I expect him to look away, but he doesn’t. “I still can’t believe we’re on another planet,” he says quietly. “I know right? Today has been insane.” And painful. I touch my cheek. Ryan nods. I fight back a yawn. “I don’t the last time I’ve ever been so tired.” He gives me that adorable crooked smile, and my stomach flipflops in response. The urge to move closer to him, to reach out and have his hand in mine, makes my fingertips tingle. “You should practice shifting tomorrow,” Dark says. Ryan and I startle at Dark’s voice, her emerald eyes sparkling in the semidarkness. “There’s no point in waiting until we reach the stones.” She watches me eagerly, as if I’ll turn into some animal this very second. “Dark, I’m not shifting right now,” I say, unable to stifle the laughter in my voice. “I wouldn’t even know how.” She flicks her tail thoughtfully. “You could ask Trevor. It can’t be too hard to shift. Medusa and Xavier can shift from one creature to another like a lightning strike. Which is unfortunate because it only adds to their power,” she says crossly. “I’ll talk to Trevor tomorrow. Hey, since I’m from Earth, does that mean the

animals I’d shift into are smaller, like the Earth version?” “You shift into Pandorma creatures, so no.” Dark then readjusts her position until she’s comfortable. “You believe you can shift then?” Ryan whispers, leaning toward me. Do I believe that? I pick at pieces of bark with moss on them. “I don’t know. After everything that’s happened today, maybe it’s not as outrageous as it sounds. I mean, Dark believes it wholeheartedly. Me being able to shift is the reason she’s so convinced I can help. If I can’t, I don’t think I’ll be of much use in this war.” Or any use at all. Not far off, a pair of frogs strike up a heated conversation. Probably arguing over who’s turn it is to watch the tadpoles. Yeesh. Trevor’s right, I would fit in with the eccentric people of Abandon. I don’t know any normal people who make up random conversations between animals. Then again, did I know any normal people? “Does that mean your parents could shift?” Ryan asks. I sigh, then shrug. “I . . . My parents never said anything, and I like to think that my dad would tell me something so important. I guess it’s a mystery.” A mystery I’ll solve once I return home. There’s no way he can keep hiding the truth—if I do shift—after I tell him everything that’s happened. Ryan gives me a half smile, pulling his foot up to his thigh. “Sweet dreams, Lissa.” “Night.” He stares off into the darkness, more alert than I could possibly be. I fall asleep the moment I close my eyes.

Chapter 8

“Lissa!” My father’s desperate cry echoes in the slithering, inky darkness. “Dad!” I try to shout, but the word sticks in my throat. Again and again I try, frustration building when every time results in failure. Suddenly, the world twists, waving and bending in front of and beneath me so I can’t move without falling. The puddle before me ripples, one drop of water splashing onto my face. I stare in horror as my father’s face appears beneath the glass-like surface. His eyes are hollow, his face deathly pale. “No,” I whisper. He looks dead. Jerking awake, I nearly fall off the branch. My legs snap around the branch, and I dig my fingers into the bark. That was close. I wipe off my cheek just as another drop of water drips on it. Rain? I crane my head back to meet the void eyes of a dark gray wolf. Screaming, I jerk up. Ryan jolts awake, yelling, “What? What is it?” The ethereal figure’s lips pull up into a snarl, drool dripping from its fangs. It inches toward me. I wildly scramble backward. Space opens beneath me and I grab the backpack, but the branch it’s on snaps. My stomach drops and I scream. Ryan springs forward to catch me, but it’s too late. Pain jars my middle. Arms and legs dangling, I wait for my blackened vision to clear. Very slowly, I fix myself so that I’m sitting on the branch. I wince as I breath in. Pressing my fingers to the side of my head, I look up. The wolf is gone. So is Ryan, and all I can see of Dark is the outline of her head. I look below. There. Ryan is a few feet beneath me, his body stretched out on a limb.

“Ryan?” The word scratches out, cutting at my lung on its way. He doesn’t move. No, no, no, no. I quickly descend. “Ryan?” I hardly breathe his name, afraid to break the weighty silence that has settled in the forest. The branch I sit on veers away from his, but I don’t dare move to his. Ryan is lucky the limb didn’t break when he fell on it. I reach out, intending to gently poke him, but I can’t reach him from my spot. I glance around for a stick I can use. Snapping one off, I lightly poke Ryan with it. “I’m good,” he moans faintly, and a warm wave of relief washes over me. A jingling sound, like a muffled bell, echoes from somewhere in the darkness. I look around, puzzled. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. In the weak moonlight, only the eerie, imive trees watch me. The darkness to my right moves. Squinting, I lean forward somewhat. What I thought was darkness curves into the shape of a wolf. With purpose, it slinks toward me, literally walking on air. My breath quickens, fear coiling and constricting around me like a python. My eyes roll down. I can’t see the ground. I don’t know how high up we still are. I’m trapped. “Time’s up.” The wolf’s voice is thick, rusty, like the words are difficult to speak. It springs at me. I duck, even though I know it won’t save me. In the blink of an eye, Darklily is on top of the creature. Crashing follows in their wake as they plummet to the ground. Turning back to Ryan, I hiss, “You need to get up!” When he doesn’t respond, I jab him with the stick. “Ow,” he moans.

“Get up!” With difficulty, he manages to get into a sitting position. Rubbing his head, he looks at me, confusion clouding his eyes. Below, there’s only silence, and it’s making my stomach clench. “Are you okay?” I whisper. Ryan closes one eye for a second then squints both eyes before shutting them. “Yeah . . . just give me a second.” I climb down, grimacing as pain clamps around my chest with each movement. By the time I’m low enough to jump down, Darklily and Trevor are staring out into the darkness. Ryan stumbles a bit when he lands beside me. I reach out to steady him, but he places a hand against the tree trunk. I take shallow breathes to lessen the pain, forcing myself to stay standing even though I’d rather drop to the ground. “What was that?” Somehow my voice sounds steadier than I feel. Dark turns to face us, but Trevor doesn’t move, only his ear turning our way. Dark’s eyes flicker with worry. “It was a screature,” she says. We stare, waiting for her to clarify. “Oh. A screature is a shadow creature.” Dark slits her eyes. “They’re somewhat, uh, complicated things.” “What are they? Cause that thing was not normal.” Ryan gently touches the left side of his head, and his eyes close briefly. He catches me watching him and mouths, I’m fine, but that doesn’t stop my worry. I hope he didn’t hit his head too hard. “They’re a shadow but not entirely. They can take any shape or form, can solidify and vaporize at will. When they’re solid, their teeth and claws can rip through just about anything. They’re strongest at night because they can move about more freely in the darkness. They have no scent except for a very faint acidic or smoky smell. They’re also indestructible for the most part.” “How helpful,” Trevor mutters.

“What does hurt them?” Ryan asks. “Light. If they touch light, they dissolve but will grow back instantly. The light has to burn their heart for them to die.” Ryan lets out a breath, running a hand through his hair. “Will it come back?” I take a step back, as if being closer to the tree will lend . Before she can answer, Ryan nods and asks, “And how many of these things are there?” “It shouldn’t return. If it was going to kill us, it wouldn’t have left. We’re lucky it was only the one screature,” Dark says, her teeth baring slightly. “There’s only seven of them at a time, which is good because they are pure evil, to any creature.” “How come there are only seven?” Ryan asks. “I heard once that they represent different things.” Dark gazes out at the forest for a moment before continuing, “There’s Wrath, Hatred, Vengeance, and Malevolence.” She pauses again before finishing, “Agony, Scorn, and Dissension.” “What happens when they die?” Trevor turns to face us. “Another takes its place,” Dark answers. “How is that possible?” Ryan asks. Dark flicks an ear. “When a hateful person dies, does hate cease to exist?” “Makes sense,” Ryan agrees. “Doesn’t sound like it actually dies,” Trevor comments with an underlying skeptical growl. Dark’s shoulders ripple. “I only care to know what keeps me alive.” I allow a moment of silence to listen for danger then bring up, “I think that

screature might have been working for Medusa.” Fear spikes the fur along Dark’s spine. “Why would you think that?” “He told me time was up.” Her ears flatten, and she paces in a circle. I lean against the tree, unable to keep pretending that I’m not ready to fall over. Oh hey. The backpack rests a couple feet away, and I snatch it up. I had felt moderately safe before, up in the tree, but now every little sound I hear has my head turning circles. What if another monster besides that screature was sent to kill us? Or maybe there’s a regular, hungry predator skulking in the darkness, waiting for the perfect moment to strike? We could get pounced on just hanging around, but it’s not like walking will keep us safe either. Dark stops pacing her circles and faces Trevor. “Do you smell anything?” Trevor shakes his head. “Me either.” Dark’s tail flicks, and she raises and lowers her head, pausing at each point. “It’s not safe to stay here any longer. All that noise will have alerted nearby predators, and I don’t want them to come snooping around.” She trots off into the darkness, leaving us to bumble after her. With only the shuff, shuff of feet against the earth and the occasional snap of a twig to listen to, my dream seeps back into my thoughts. The dream feels like the rebuking slap of a ruler across my heart, leaving behind stinging guilt. It’s not like I left Dad at home, completely alone. There are people looking after him. People. Strangers, really. What if something did happen to him? I shouldn’t have made such a snap decision. But I didn’t really have time to think it through. “You okay?” Ryan’s voice is quiet, but it still startles me. “Yeah, I’m just a bit shaken up.” He doesn’t pry, but his gentle gaze tells me he’d be more than willing to listen if I wanted to talk. He walks a few steps ahead, holding back branches for me. Throughout the night, Dark keeps to a steady trot, which isn’t so bad at first, but

by sunrise, I’m sure I’ll out from exhaustion and hunger. If it weren’t for Ryan walking so close to me, I would’ve fallen on my face twice. Despite the lines of exhaustion on his face, he was quick to catch me, the movement momentarily reawakening us. Trevor’s weary paws scrape lines in the earth. I drag my feet along these lines to give my brain something to focus on. “We’ll rest now. Only for a moment.” Dark does a sweep of the area before she lies down. Ryan flops down next to her while Trevor, true to his nature, lies down away from them. I sit next to Trevor, who’s returned to his human form. “Trevor.” I look over at the others to make sure they’re not listening. “How do you, uh, turn into a wolf?” I ask. His eyelids droop even as there’s a glint of curiosity in his eyes. “I command my body to do it. Why?” he asks through a yawn. “Just trying to figure out how to activate this shifting ability.” If it’s possible. He shakes his head. “I still think that if you—” “Were a shifter you would know, I know. Maybe because I’ve never shifted before I don’t give off that vibe or whatever it is.” Trevor sinks back against the narrow tree, and his eyelids promptly shut. I nudge him. “I noticed you don’t, uh, take off your clothes before you shift.” As I say this I try not to squirm uncomfortably. Instead of making a remark that will make me even more uncomfortable he answers, “Clothes are kind of like fur. Fur is part of the animal form, and clothes are part of the human form. Does that make sense?” “Yes,” I say, immensely relieved that I won’t have to take my clothes off to shift. He snorts in amusement. “Would it be so bad if you had to undress to shift?” “Oh, hush.” I shove my shoulder against his and he chuckles. “Did it hurt the first time you turned into a wolf?” He instantly turns somber. “Yeah. It hurt a lot. But it’s worth it. Wake me when

we start to move again, okay?” “Okay.” He’s already fast asleep. I walk back to Dark and Ryan. They’re asleep as well. A red flag goes up in my mind. If Trevor and Darklily are snoozing, there’s no one capable of watching out for danger. But it’s the perfect time to attempt shifting. Only, what if something happens? I chew on my lip. I turn the thought over more, trying to convince myself it’d be wiser to keep an eye out for danger instead of practicing. But when will I get another chance to attempt my first shift without an audience? I should definitely practice. Just once. And if I practice while I’m up in a tree, I can keep an eye out for danger too. Not that I actually think I’ll be able to do both things at once, but Dark wouldn’t have parked us here if there was any immediate danger. I set the backpack near Ryan before seeking out a tree farther inside the forest— even while traveling, we keep near the edge of the forest. I can see Trevor, but Dark and Ryan are behind me. Dark was afraid of things in the forest, so I’ll face that way. I sweep my eyes across the forest. Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes and clear my thoughts. Trevor said he commands his body to shift, but I’m not sure how to do that. Maybe if I think of an animal and focus on the image, my body will get the message. I scratch the back of my neck, trying to think of a small creature. Cat. I’ve always thought it would be interesting to be a cat. Of course not literally. Minutes , and nothing happens. The image fades from my mind, and I’m beginning to think I was right after all. I can’t shift. I start to shiver like the temperature abruptly dropped fifty degrees. My arms and legs stiffen at my sides as the most painful muscle cramp I’ve ever had grips them. My stomach clenches and I double over. As the pain escalates, it feels like my consciousness is slipping.

A splitting pain spreads across my skull, but that is mild compared to the tightness that binds my whole body. It feels like I’m being shoved into a container that keeps compressing until I black out.

Chapter 9

Thump, thump, thump. I sluggishly blink. Could the blood vessels in my head be any louder? I tilt my head up, but the harsh light must be affecting my vision because these trees look way bigger than they should be. Swaying, I shut my eyes, concentrating on the air filling my lungs, until the wave of dizziness has subsided. What happened? I recollect climbing the tree, but my pounding head restricts any thinking beyond that. Whatever happened, I must’ve been lying here a while. Pinpricks dance around my arms and legs like they’ve been asleep. The pinpricks dance even more wildly when I pull my legs underneath me to stand, only it doesn’t feel right. I look down. Stubby, black legs have taken place of my human ones, complete with a furry belly, hind legs, and tiny paws. Muscles at the base of my spine contract. A tail! I let out a screech and scurry backward, crashing into the tree. Like a bucket of cold water, the sharp memory of what happened before I blacked out hits me. I can’t believe Dark was right—I can shift. I hold up each of my limbs, staring at each like the foreign objects they are. I roll to the side but quickly catch myself. I must’ve landed on my back because, when I flex my shoulders, the space in between aches even more than the rest of my body does. “Lissa!” Ryan calls. My eyes widen in surprise. The others! Ryan’s shout didn’t sound very close. They must not have recognized me in this form—did they keep walking without me? I wrestle with my unfamiliar body to get and stay on my feet. Anything faster

than moving one leg at a time proves to be a challenge, but like a newborn kitten learning to walk and desperate not to get left behind by its mother, I frantically stumble after his voice. I repeatedly try to call out, but my voice is painfully hoarse and I don’t succeed in anything above a whisper. Stopping to catch my breath, I listen for the others. No voices. I’ll never find them when I’m so short. Just shift back. Precious seconds are wasted as I debate between shifting back to human form so I can run after them or staying a cat and following the voice so I won’t lose it. I have to shift. I’ll never catch up to them otherwise. I clear my mind, picture myself, and wait for my body to change. A faint breeze shuffles through the canopy of leaves. Quiet rustlings come from unseen animals skittering about. Above, limbs knock together as squirrels daringly jump from branch to branch. It’s not working. I fight back panic. Every second I sit here, Dark and the boys get farther away. I snap my eyes shut and try again. Why isn’t it working? I whirl around at a snap behind me, heart pounding, fearing that the screature has come back to finish me off. Nothing appears. But that doesn’t mean there’s nothing out there. Fright crawls along my spine, and my tail fur bushes out. I glower at the ground. Why did I think shifting was a good idea? Again, I try to shift back, again getting the same results. I don’t have time for this. Frustrated, I head in the direction I hope the voice came from.

I don’t know how long I’ve been walking. I just know it’s been long enough to sap any hope of finding the others, especially when I fail every time I try to shift back into my human form. I stop beside a tree trunk and huddle up close to it. My body hurts. My brain hurts. My skin hurts because my fur has been standing on end the whole time

I’ve been wandering around this darn forest. My tail snaps to the side, and I squash the urge to pounce on it. For crying out loud. I’m about fed up with myself. My body keeps reacting without my consent. My whiskers twitch furiously whenever they touch something, my claws keep sliding out and they’ve become clogged with dirt, and I must’ve jumped twenty times because of some small noise. I hopelessly survey the forest. I haven’t heard anyone call my name in a long time, and I haven’t seen any trace of them either. When I was lying unconscious, I guess Trevor or Dark didn’t come across me. If they had, they should’ve known it was me. After all, their sense of smell is supposed to be superior, and I’m sure I don’t smell different just because I’m a cat. What’s that? Oh. I cut off a low growl going on in my throat. “Just because I can shift doesn’t mean I have to act like an animal!” There’s squeaking to my right, and I find a chipmunk poised on a rock, staring at me. “What? It doesn’t,” I snap. The little creature scurries away. I exhale, wishing I could seep into the ground and have it carry me to the others. Above, streaks of light purple, dark orange, and salmon pink ignite the sky, the beginning of a sunset. I can only see snippets of it because I’m still under the shelter of the trees. Regret as unbearable as my hunger eats away at me inside and I slump to the ground. The glorious colors take my mind back home, to Dad. He loves sunsets. They are one of his favorite things. Every evening, he sat on our porch swing until every last bit of color is gone from the sky. He says it’s like having an artist create a painting right before his eyes. The fur around my eyes dampens, and silent sobs rack my body. I shouldn’t have left home. If I die on Pandorma, he’ll never know what happened to me—I’d never see his face or hear his voice again. My sobs grow louder. Some part of me warns that I should keep quiet so as not to attract attention, but I don’t care. Let a predator come and finish me off. It’s what I deserve for leaving. “I shouldn’t have left.”

I don’t know why I did. Yes, I do. I wanted the chance to get out of my life. To not have to face my fast-impending future—or fail trying. To have a time, if only brief, to not have to worry about Dad—whether he’s still at the house or if I’ll come home to him having wandered off into the woods or if he’s having thoughts I should be concerned about. I’m supposed to be with him. I deserve this. I choke on saliva as I suck in air between a sob. I wipe at my nose, wishing I had a tissue or at least a stream to rinse off my hand. My hand. I run my hands over my legs and my face then hug my knees tight against my chest. I close my eyes with a sigh of relief. Not only am I human again, I’m fully clothed. Even though Trevor had explained that the clothes would still be there in my human form, I was worried it would be different for me. I’m not a werewolf, after all. I take a deep, shuddering breath and lean back, running my hands through my hair. I run a hand through my hair again, picking up one of my curls and glancing at it before dropping it. My hair tie must’ve broken. I rest my head against the knotty bark and close my eyes. Shifting back into human form feels like a small, insignificant triumph. I pick up a stick and twirl it around. I give a thought to each leaf as I pluck and shred it. Where did they go? Which way did they head? I wonder if I’ll ever see them again. So much for finally meeting a guy like Ryan. I keep telling myself not to think this way, but the thoughts circle like hungry sharks. The brilliant colors slowly seep from the sky, then faster until semi-darkness is settling over the forest like a blanket. Promise me you will fight. I sit up straighter. I promised. I didn’t come all this way just to give up. I get onto my feet and take a deep breath. I have to finish this. I turn in a circle, trying to figure out which direction I should take. I need to get to those stones Dark mentioned. Wherever they are. Didn’t Dark say something about heading toward the sunset? I make another circle. Didn’t the sun go down that way?

I walk a short distance then look over my shoulder. I don’t feel at all safe now that I’m aware of things around me. I stand out even more in my human form. I should shift. I nervously bite my nail, forgetting my nails are filled with dirt. I spit, curling my lip at the tiny, gritty pieces of dirt now swimming around my mouth. I don’t want to get trapped in a different form again. I let out a breath. But I’ll have to take that chance. Practice will help anyway. I mentally run through a list of animals before settling on a mountain lion. I should be big enough to be a threat but nimble enough to escape if a larger predator sneaks up on me. Mountain lion. I release a weary sigh. Not again. I assume that my body will start to shift the second I give up, but that doesn’t happen. Opening my eyes, I glare in frustration at a young tree. I don’t have time to sit here. The last bit of light is practically gone. It’ll be dark soon. Not that I’m afraid of the dark . . . just maybe the things that could be hiding in it. Mountain lion. My body shakes, and it feels like every bone and muscle is being torn from each other. My spine and limbs stretch. The tightness I’d felt turning into a small cat doesn’t exist this time. Breathless, I count it as a small victory that I don’t lose consciousness again. Raising a furry paw, I look at the sagebrush-brown fur, exhaling relief. Okay, now to head in the direction of the sunset . . . I take two steps and stop. Was it this way? I look up, even though I know I can’t see any sky, and squint. There is light, but it’s very little. It must be coming from the moon. I look left then right. The edge of the forest is no longer visible. Okay, okay, don’t panic. I hesitantly walk a couple feet. That way might be deeper into the forest. The darkness seems darker. Maybe it’d be wiser to just stay put until morning.

A blur flits past me, and I jump sideways in surprise. I barely get a glimpse of the animal before it’s swallowed up by the forest’s darkness. I hope I didn’t just see what I thought I saw. I shudder. Instinct screams at me not to follow the creature, but my curiosity wins. Cautiously but quickly, I sprint in the direction it disappeared. The ground slants up, and I’m forced to slow as the incline becomes increasingly steep. At the top, I stare in astonishment at what lay below me. The hill I’m perched on is shaped like half a bowl, each side sloping down until it meets flat ground. At the bottom of the hill is a large expanse of what probably used to be grass—it’s all been cropped away now—and the beasts grazing on the grass are dinosaurs. Most of the dinosaurs are sauropods, but a mix of smaller animals weave around them like bushes among trees. Out of the forest, it’s not so dark, and the cloudy moonlight bounces among the animals, causing a jumble of tricky shadows. Rocks glaze the entire side of the high, sloping hill. And not just pebbles. Boulders the size of small cars are gathered in places as if there had been a wreck that got frozen in time. The boulders cling to the hill face, unmoving, hushed beasts. My eyes travel to the nearest boulder, which is currently hiding the thing that brushed past me. Movement flickers at the edge of my vision. Two predators race to a rock farther down. My blood runs cold. The hunter of my nightmares: Deinonychus. Four more flit in the shadows above. Using the rocks and shadows as cover, they sneak closer to the herd. Hunching low, I travel along the ridge. I don’t know where I’m going. I just need to get out of here. Bellows of fear from the herd signal the raptor attack has begun. The fur on my spine pricks, and I pause to watch the beasts below stampede in a circular pattern. I veer away from the scene and set a fast pace. Could I be out of this forest now please? I want to be in a field where I can see what’s around me —why do the trees seem never-ending?

I stop in my tracks at a massive roar. It sounded like it came from the direction of the herd but from a different, larger predator. I move through the woods even faster. A rock sinks deep into my paw, and I cry out, falling forward. I curl my hurt paw, my eyes screwing up from the pain. I really need to stop running when my brain goes into panic mode. My paw hurts like heck, but it’s not bleeding, thankfully. Maybe I should just stay in a tree until morning. Seems like a smarter idea than moving blindly through the woods. Partially limping, I choose a tree that should be reasonably easy to scale. I grasp the trunk with my front paws . . . cats make this look so easy. Well, if I focus on my front end, my back end should know what to do, I would think. Awkwardly, I push with my back paws, and my front paws magically take me several feet up the tree. Hanging my limbs off the side of my chosen branch, I watch the sprinkle of tiny, blinking lights. I’ll have to keep my eyes open since it’s almost impossible to hear anything over these crickets.

Something cold and wet plops onto my snout. Screature! Legs flailing with terror, I forget I’m up in a tree. My paws hit earth, a much better landing than last time I fell out of a tree. Another splash of water lands on my head. Not a screature. Just rain. Somehow the night has gotten even darker, the tint of moonlight erased. An earth-shattering blast of thunder reverberates through my body and the ground. Light slashes through the trees. There’s another explosion of thunder, and blinding light then a thick downpour seizes the warm air. I shuffle backward until I bump into the tree trunk. I can’t see two inches in front of my face, but several blades of lightning split across the sky, followed seconds later by another crackle of thunder that trembles the earth beneath my paws. I know it’s not possible, but it sounds like the world is falling apart and a hint of fear creeps into my stomach. I can’t be afraid. I adore thunderstorms. But the sheer power and ferocity of this storm chills me. The air crackles with the storm’s power. I close my eyes, and bring up a picture of myself and think “Lissa.” My body is

a little less stubborn this time, but it takes the form with an uncomfortable wrench that leaves an ache in my ts. I slide down to a crouch, barely ing the slight pain in my ears as another devastating clash of thunder and lightning rocket across the sky. I turn in toward the trunk and press against the bark, as if it’ll open the shelter of its belly to me. I cover my ears as another explosion of thunder shatters the air, but this time the ground doesn’t stop trembling because several other explosions of thunder follow. I dislike the idea of waiting out the storm and its army of cold pellets, but I have nowhere to go. After the next crackle of thunder has died down, I use the tree to pull myself up. Guided by flickers of lightning, I break off a few low branches. I tuck myself against the tree once more then place the branches around me, repeatedly hoping that predators have decided to hunker down in this storm and not hunt. By the time the storm has exhausted itself, my ears are ringing, and my body is stiff, the ball I curled into providing little warmth. I rub my eyes, which are heavy and sore. I’ve never been so exhausted but unwilling to let myself sleep. Get up. Keep moving. The task is slow, and when I’m on my feet, I blankly stare in each direction. I am so lost. This is hopeless. How am I ever going to find them? I’d cry if I weren’t so drained. I pick a direction and walk. I can change course once I can finally see the sun again. The soft patter of already dropped rain still making its way to the soaking forest floor accompanies me. I hum portions of various songs, mumbling lines every so often. I freeze. That note didn’t sound like it was in my head. I pull my hair back and tilt my head. It’s very faint, but I’m definitely picking up music. It’s not any type of music I’ve ever heard. A melody of soft strands and deeper ones. A harp? I walk in the direction of the music, brushing aside dripping leaves. The trees thin out, and grass dips its raindrops into my shoes, soaking them. I hop across a small stream of muddy water, the luring melody growing stronger. After several more feet, I push aside a branch and get a clear view of where the

music seems to be emanating from: behind a wall covered by flowers in many different shapes and every shade of orange, hundreds of droplets of water drip off the petals. Rocks jut out of the leafy foliage, and a filmy sheen of rainbows enchantingly mist in front of the wall. The music beckons me to come closer. I take a few cautious steps, pausing a couple feet away, but the music shifts, insisting that I come even closer. I do. I lean over and watch the dripping water. Odd. It’s not behind the wall. The second a water droplet splashes apart, a note flows out. Very odd—like stranger than dinosaurs still being alive. I pull back and cast my eyes up at the dawn sky. What kind of strange world is Pandorma? Abruptly the water alters so that it drips at the same time, creating a pleasant hum. Slimy, cold vines snake around my ankles and yank my feet out from under me. The wall shimmers away, and I scream as the vines drag me into yawning blackness.

Chapter 10

Warm water encases my body like a silky blanket, and I grab a breath before my head is jerked under. The water grows much colder, but I couldn’t have been pulled more than a couple feet down. Unless I’m farther down than I think. I open my eyes, blinking a few times so they adjust. From deeper within the cavern, there’s a greenish glow, allowing me to see that thousands of broken bones lay beneath me. They sway as if being moved by a current, maybe from the yawning tunnel on both sides. Animal and human skulls sit on ledges protruding out of the slimy walls. Whatever’s inside the skulls glows dimly. In the corner of my eye, an object glints dully. The creature that dragged me under floats into view. I resist letting out a shocked breath. A mermaid. Her skin is sugar white, her thick, scarred tail a grayish hue. Her long, knotted black hair floats listlessly behind her. Her long nails end in curving points, and one webbed hand holds a strange-looking dagger. Chalky white in appearance, it almost looks as if it was carved out of bone. She appraises me with white eyes that glow menacingly. The mermaid swims closer but when I try to move back, I realize my hands are bound. Seaweed tightly binds my wrists and ankles, the long strand around my ankles attached to the bottom of the cave. I tug with what strength I have, but they hold fast. The mermaid hitches the blade under my jawbone. “Didn’t your daddy ever teach you to beware mermaid’s melodies?” she asks, feigning sadness then laughing. “About time someone fell into my clever trap,” she hisses. “I’m quite hungry.” Her lips pull back in a snarl, revealing tiny pointed and chipped teeth. The mermaid opens her mouth to speak, but I strike her in the chest with my fists. Dolphin. My body attempts to shift, but the bonds hinder it, causing me to jerk back into human form.

The mermaid lets out an indignant screech and flies at me, knife aimed for my throat. I mean to duck quickly, but the water slows my movements and the blade slashes my arm. My lungs scream for air as blood lethargically leaks from the wound. Using my tied ankles to my advantage, I pull myself down just as the mermaid lowers the knife. I throw my hands up to stop the blow and the knife slits my flesh, but it also cuts the seaweed. The mermaid lets out an angry shriek, swinging the knife. I dodge it, knocking off a skull in the process. The mermaid watches the skull bob, her face contorted in unease. Using the moment of distraction, I grab her wrist and the end of the dagger’s handle, twist it, and yank. The blade cuts deeply into the mermaid’s palm, and she lets out an animal-like scream. I slash the seaweed binding my ankles then furiously kick out for the tunnel just above the collection of swaying bones. The mermaid’s claws dig into my ankle. “You!” I fling my fist back, slapping her across the face, but it’s weak. I’m out of breath, black encroaching on my vision. She parts her mouth and aims for my throat. No! I blindly thrust the knife out, hoping it’ll wound her. Her scream pierces my ears and ripples the water around me. My ankle freed, I feverishly claw through the water. “You devil!” she roars. Her words are muffled as I’m whisked down the tunnel. My head breaks the water’s surface, and I’ve barely sucked in a breath before I’m forced back underwater by the tunnel roof. Sharp turns cause my body to get bashed against the walls of the tunnel. I’m spit out along the bottom of a river. I kick my way to the surface and pull myself onto the glorious bed of land. I heave in a breath, but start violently hacking so I draw in shallow, shaky breaths. I roll onto my back. I can’t believe I made it out of that alive.

I change to a sitting position. The languid river stretches beyond where I came out. That tunnel must connect to it underground. A sweet scent drifts by my nose, along with several other less appealing scents. I breathe in, concentrating on the different smells. The scents are very defined, more defined than my old nose ever permitted. This, I could get used to. I fill my lungs and think I catch a whiff of peach. I don’t want to get my hopes up, but my mouth starts to salivate. Food and then friends. If I don’t find anything soon, I may have to break down and find out what grass tastes like, which probably wouldn’t be as bad if I’m in herbivore form. I gingerly stand, tracing a finger along the gash that stretches from my shoulder to about five inches down. It’s bleeding but already healing enough I don’t bother worrying about it. The cut on my hand has healed up to a sliver as well. I lightly touch the back of my head. Sensitive but ignorable. Peaches, please be real. I follow the smell of peaches through thick weeds and monstrous bushes like a dog locked onto the scent of rabbit. Yes! My knees nearly give out when I lay eye on a beautiful peach. I fight my way through the last tangle of weeds, my mouth watering. I pluck one off a lower branch and sink my teeth in. My eyes flutter closed with pleasure as the richness washes over my taste buds. Several minutes later, having stuffed myself with peaches and with the sun warmly shining, it’s a struggle to keep my eyes open. I need to keep moving. Shoving away my desire to nap under the tree, I head back to the river for a drink. I tilt my head back and trace my finger to the point where I think the sun would set, which would be somewhere past that distant tree line. Lots of walking. I wish the others would just miraculously appear. Sighing, I shuffle my feet along. I’ve never minded being alone. I can even cope with partial abandonment, but this sense of being left behind is something else. I snatch up a thin fallen branch and whack it across the tops of some weeds. How the heck did they lose me anyway? I didn’t go far when I climbed that tree. I’d better get their side of the story before my thoughts get my emotions ramped up. Not that it stops the twinge of anger in my stomach. A thicket of what appear to be bushes blocks my path. The trunks of the bushes

reach my height, the abundant foliage—with all the leaves growing at the same level—blocking out most of the sunlight. In the middle of every trunk is a large, uneven circular bump. I nervously glance over my shoulder then head inside the bush forest. Hopefully there’s nothing mythical or prehistoric among the shadows. I end up leaning down so that the branches won’t snag my hair. I nearly jump out of my skin when something flits at the edge of my vision. I stifle the urge to call out, “Who’s there?” I don’t move, hardly allowing myself to breathe, lest the flow of air into my lungs obscure the minute noise of an approaching enemy. The last thing I want to run into is another freaky, supposed to be nonexistent creature. Fox. The shift is relatively smooth, the pain so minimal that I barely it’s happening. Another flicker at the corner of my eye. My fur stands on end, but I pick up nothing with my eyes or ears. I barely breathe a sigh of relief when a small coati peeks out from behind one of the trunks. Its nose wiggles. Then it cautiously steps from its hiding spot. It has a reddish coat, rings of black on its tail, and a long snout. The little animal resembles a raccoon but without the mask and notso-bushy fur. “You’re one odd looking fox,” she chirps. Aside from her small size, the coati’s voice tells me she’s fairly young. I glance around. I wonder where her parents are. I back up as she trots over and sits directly beneath my snout. “I’m Shiver, what’s your name?” “Uh, Lissa.” I don’t have time to entertain this coati. Then again . . . “Do you know of a place called Vacant Stones?” “Vacant Stones?” Shiver tips her head to the side. “Umm, yes! Yes, I do!” Her nose twitches, and I feel foolish for having even asked. She’s practically a baby—of course she doesn’t know where the Vacant Stones are. “Come on! Follow me!” She scurries away, but I don’t follow. She does a half

jump, half spin and stares at me. “Your feet stuck to the ground?” “I don’t think you know where it is.” Sorry little thing, but I have to keep moving. I turn away. Shiver makes a squeaking noise. “Wait. I can help you find your stone place!” I’ve already almost gotten myself killed—I’d feel horrible if I got this little animal killed too. “I think you’re better off staying here.” She hurries to block my path, rearing up on her hindlegs. “I could get eaten if I stay here alone.” Her dark eyes are pleading and I don’t have the heart to tell her to go away. “All right you can follow me.” “Ooh!” Shiver’s feet do a rapid dance. “There’s still a chance you could get eaten,” I warn. I almost was—by a mermaid of all things. She shakes her head vigorously. “Not when I have you to protect me. Foxes are clever so they don’t get eaten—at least that’s what I was told. You’re the first fox I’ve ever met. Actually, you’re the first creature I’ve seen in a while. I don’t run into many other creatures. I could count them on my paw I’ve met so few.” I stop walking. “Shh! You’re going to attract predators talking so loud.” “Sorry! I never have any creature to talk to. They always run away or try to eat me or—right, danger,” she breaks off at a glance from me. I tread quietly, hyperalert for danger—Shiver’s voice has a squeak to it that sounds like a tempting mouse. “Want to know something interesting?” Shiver bounces until she’s ahead of me. “I was named after this place.” “Does that make this Shiver Forest or something?” I look around. Not that I would call this a forest. It’s just these bizarre bushes.

Shiver releases a scratchy noise that sounds like broken chuckles. “Don’t be buggy. I was named after the tree.” Buggy? Picking up on my confusion, she prances over to one of the trees, rears up on her hind legs, and places a paw on the bark. “These trees,” she states importantly. “Most creatures think they’re bushes, but they’re actually tiny trees. Why do you think they’re called Shiver trees?” “I wouldn’t know. I’m not from here.” Shiver’s paw twitches before understanding lights up her eyes. “Oh! You must come from the other world,” she lowers her voice dramatically. “Well, that explains your unusual name. Put your paw on the bark.” I do and am surprised to find the bark is vibrating. I look closer, but the tree isn’t visibly vibrating. I press my ear to the bark. There’s a slight hum, the vibration tickling my ear fur. “Is there something inside?” “Not anything I know of.” “Is it bugs?” I mumble mostly to myself. As the first ever vibrating tree I’ve come across, I’d certainly like to know the cause. I pull back. Imagine having a Pandorma forest in my backyard. I’ve spent hours exploring my woods with the basic curiosities like a funny-looking rock or animal tracks that never catch up to the culprit, but a forest like this? It’d keep me occupied for days. “Nope. I’ve chewed through the bark—there are no bugs. What’s it like? In the other world?” Dragging myself away from this fascination, I remark under my breath, “Nothing like here, that’s for sure.” The mermaid in particular sends a shudder down my spine. That’s one piece of Pandorma I would’ve preferred to leave undiscovered. Shiver scampers and bounces loosely by my side until we reach the edge of the Shiver trees then sidles up close to me. I hesitate before shifting. This little coati

has probably never seen a person before. I wonder if she’ll be afraid of me. I don’t know if animals on a different planet are born with a fear of people. I can’t stay a fox for the rest of my life. Lissa. She gasps. “Are you one of those creature thingies that can pretend to be other creatures? I’ve heard stories, but of course I’ve never seen one.” I guess I wouldn’t be afraid of a shapeshifting person either if I lived in a world where the unnatural is totally normal. This looks like it could get tiring fast. Spread before us is dry and rocky ground. The sparse bushes are short, the leaves tough and dry looking. Small to mediumsized plateaus spring up here and there, breaking up the monotonous landscape. The heat isn’t intense, but I have a feeling it will be when the sun is directly overhead. I take one hesitant step then shake off my uncertainty at crossing the place. I have to get to the others. I just hope I’m going the right direction. I start walking. “Are you sure you want to go out there?” Shiver asks. “Yes.” “But it’s dangerous,” she says, eyes wide. “It can’t be any more dangerous than everywhere else,” I remark. “Oh. Good point!” I smile as she trots to catch up, kicking dirt up with her paws.

“That wolf is following us,” Shiver says fearfully. I scan the deserted wilderness. Again. Seeing nothing, like the last two times she mentioned it, I say, “I don’t see anything this time either.” Sweat runs down my brow, and I quickly wipe it away, only for more to take its place. This was a bad idea. We should’ve gone around this place.

While walking, my imagination had worked itself into overdrive, running through the list of predators—both present and prehistoric—that would inhabit territory we are currently traveling. I’d narrowed the list down to one nasty predator, and every flick of a leaf and adrenaline charges through my veins like racehorses released from the starting gate. When Shiver related to my fear, saying she’d be afraid too if she could only transform into a little fox, I told her that I could shift into any animal. This set off a long round of endless, runtogether questions, and she insisted that I could beat anything that set foot in front of us. I don’t agree. Tingles of apprehension run up and down my spine. I think I’m sweating more out of fear than heat. “You don’t look fast enough. There!” Shiver shrieks. This time I catch the end of a tail fleeing behind a boulder, a familiar, blondishbrown tail. “Trevor, is that you?” I walk toward the boulder. It might not be Trevor, but what other wolf would be trailing us instead of hunting us? “Gotcha!” I jump back then punch his shoulder. “Trevor! It is you following us! Where have you . . . been?” I catch myself before I can say “you guys”—I don’t see Dark or Ryan with him. “Why are you trying to give me a heart attack? This place is already scary enough.” “Sorry,” Trevor says, but he doesn’t sound sorry. “She’s afraid of a surprise attack,” Shiver states. “A surprise attack? From what exactly?” Trevor asks, pointedly gazing around at the emptiness. “She’s afraid of Utahraptor,” Shiver answers for me. “A Utah tractor, huh?” he says. “It’s Utah raptor, dummy,” I say. “And you would be afraid too if you knew how

deadly they are. They also happen to be the largest raptor.” “It wouldn’t hurt me,” Shiver declares. I move around Trevor and duck down into the bit of shade provided by the boulder. Shiver hides herself under the crook of my legs, and I think I hear her sigh with relief. “Where are Dark and Ryan?” Trevor leans lazily against the boulder. “We left Ordinary Boy to fend for himself.” I throw him a look, and he revises, “Your boyfriend—” “He’s not my boyfriend!” I yell then clap a hand over my mouth. I scan our surroundings with my hearing, but the heat feels like it’s filled my ears with cotton. His face hardens, and he sets his jaw. “If he’s not your boyfriend then why did you bring him with us?” His eyes flash with accusation. “I ran into him as I was leaving the house, and he followed me. He wanted to come just like you did.” I run my finger over the very thin layer of loose soil. That would be wrong. Ryan chose to, but I don’t think he wanted to come. Gosh, I hope he doesn’t hate me when we get back home. “Dark kinda freaked about getting to those stones too late and the tiger surrendering. So we decided it’d be best if she went on ahead, and I stayed behind to find you.” “Oh.” Hopefully, they get there safely—well, that Ryan does. I’m not super worried about Dark. Careful not to knock Shiver, I get up and brush the back of my jeans off. “What took you so long to find me? Aren’t you supposed to have a super sense of smell or something?” A better trained sense of smell at least, with all those shifting years under his belt. “I thought this place was dangerous.” “Yes, so we should walk while we talk. Dark said to always be on the move, ?” “Preferably in the right direction.”

I crane my head around. He hasn’t moved, and he folds his arms across his chest. I trace the sun’s path across the sky with my eyes—this looks like the right direction. Trevor takes my shoulders and turns me more to the left. “Vacant Stones are this way.” “All right, we’ll go this way. I hope your sense of direction is better than your tracking skills.” He snorts. “There’s nothing wrong with either. After you ‘wisely’ decided to take on your first shift while we were all asleep, we thought a fox snatched you. Probably, you were meant to be a snack for the pups. I had your trail until that rainstorm blew in and washed it away. But I was still able to locate you, thanks to my superior senses.” “A: I bet you would’ve made the same choice if it were your first shift, and B: that storm scared the heck out of me.” Trevor laughs. “We don’t get storms like that back home, that’s for certain.” I scrape my heels across the ground as I start walking. “After I lost you guys, I was so worried I’d never be found again. I’m really happy you found me.” “I’m happy you didn’t want to eat us,” Shiver pipes up. “But I hope we get out of this place soon. The sun is going to burn my fur off.” I suggest she walk in my shadow and slow my pace so her little feet don’t have to move at such a tiring pace. As the sun drops out of the sky and stars begin to glitter patterns, we find a spot among some trees where we feel we’ll be relatively safe. But for extra protection, and warmth, we decide to build a small fire. Trevor’s brow furrows, and his focus intensifies as if this will cause the two sticks he’s rubbing together to catch fire. I stifle a giggle, but a small noise slips out because he looks over at me. “This isn’t as easy as it looks,” he grunts.

I move closer to him and his pile of twigs. The few times we went camping, Dad would build a fire and he tried to teach me, but I never paid attention, logging it away as a useless skill. “Well, maybe if we . . .” I take one of the sticks and vigorously rub my hands down it, my feeble attempt to copy what I’ve seen others do. “Why don’t you just find one of those monsters that hold fire in their mouths?” Shiver asks. We both look over at her. “What, a dragon? Dragons are just myths,” Trevor says dismissively. “So are werewolves,” I scold. “Where would we find a dragon?” I ask Shiver. If we saw a dragon, that would be awesome. I just wish I had my camera with me. Trevor gives me an are-you-serious? look, but I ignore him. He takes my stick from me and continues doing what I did. “There’s probably one in those caves we ed,” Shiver responds. “That’s too far back,” Trevor says hurriedly, and I feel the last spark of hope for the warmth of a fire go out. It’s not cold, but it is chilly so having a fire would be nice. It’d be a luxury. I shake my head and lean back against a tree. We’ve only been on Pandorma a couple days, and already the basics have become a luxury. I nestle my arms against my thighs and stare up at the moon, which winks coldly from the black. “Looks like we won’t have a fire tonight,” Trevor says, tossing the stick away. “That’s a shame. I’ll return, going to get some food.” Shiver trots off, nose in the air. Wolf. Trevor’s dark eyes absorb my new form, his face not giving away the thoughts going through his head. A strong wind picks up, and I edge closer to Trevor after he’s shifted as well. “I guess Dark was right about you.” I nod. “It’s weird, isn’t it? Never in a million years would I have thought that I

could shift. I’m not even a werewolf. I’m something else.” “You sure are something else,” he says softly. I stare at him. He stares back, his eyes roaming around my face before falling to my mouth. I snatch my eyes away, self-consciously tucking my paws around my chest. “What happened to the backpack?” I ask, stretching my back legs out and away from Trevor, putting more inches between us. “Ryan has it.” “That’s good,” I say around a yawn. I wish I had one of those energy bars though. The berries Shiver found have already left my stomach. “This place is weird.” He snorts. “Did you think it was normal up until now?” “No, weird as in it kind of reminds me of Dad’s stories,” I say. He doesn’t react so I go on. “Do you think somehow he could’ve been on Pandorma?” He shakes his scruff. “Not really. I always felt your dad told you everything.” “But he didn’t tell me everything. I’m a shifter.” More silence. “One of them had to be a shifter.” “It’s not easy to tell someone they’re capable of doing something way beyond the average person’s capability.” “I guess.” I lay my head down. If only I could press pause here, go home and get the truth from Dad, and then return. The chime of night bugs rattles loudly in my ears, and I’m thinking it’ll take forever for me to fall asleep when my eyelids start to droop. “I shouldn’t have pushed you away. I knew I could trust you I just . . .” “I get it. Secrets are hard.” There were some things I could never bring myself to tell Dad, no matter how close we were. “How about we start over?”

He looks at me hopefully, his tail thumping once. “I’ve really missed having you in my life.” I attempt to smile, forgetting I’m in wolf form. It probably looks more like the beginning of a snarl. “I’m back! Lissa, I was thinking, are we heading for this Vacant Stones place you asked me about?” Shiver pads over and flops down next to me. “Yes, we are.” “Why? What is there that we need?” Ryan for one. My eyes practically ache from not having seen him for two days. “Darklily said that I will be trained there.” “Who is Darklily?” Trevor sighs and mutters something about not getting any sleep tonight. “Dark is the one who brought us here,” I answer. “Is Dark your nickname for her? I like nicknames. Maybe I can have a nickname for you. How about Lis?” “That’ll work,” I respond sleepily. Shiver then begins babbling about what kind of training I’ll get and wonders if she can get training too. As she talks, sleep encomes my brain, and before I can stop myself, I’m out.

Another day and a half of travel through forest brings us to snow-swollen land with barren, snowcapped trees and bushes. Mounds of snow peppered here and there keep the landscape from being level. “Please tell me we don’t have to go through there. It’s freezing.” We are just on the border, and it’s cold. I’m afraid it will be frigid deeper in. Trevor chuckles. “You might want to shift.”

He disappears momentarily and returns in the form of a wolf. “Question, why do you always go out of sight before shifting?” I ask as I shift into a wolf as well. Trevor comes to stand in front of me. Even in wolf form, he’s a good several inches taller. “Habit, I guess. My uncle drilled it into my head that I can never let anyone see me shift.” “What’s an uncle?” Shiver pipes up, and we both chuckle. “It’s someone who’s related to you,” I answer simply. Shiver still looks confused, but she doesn’t ask for clarification. Trevor paces closer to the snow-fringed ground. “I can smell mountain air. It’ll be faster if we go straight through.” I inhale deeply but can’t pick up anything identifying of mountains. “How—” Trevor shakes his head. “Like this.” He stands stock-still. “Wait. Okay now take a deep breath,” he says after a moment. A light wind has sprung up. I turn my head to it and breathe deeply. I pick up the dirt beneath my paws, the faint but potent, fresh mountain water, trees, and flourishing vegetation beyond the snowy terrain. It sets my senses on fire and opens a door I didn’t know I had access to. Taking another lungful of air, this time I delve deeper into the scents, soaking up the bits of information they provide—like the old scents of animals that ed over the earth and nearby smaller animals carefully keeping their distance. Every scent has an individual marker, but these turn into a tangled ball of yarn in my head. I open my eyes to find Trevor watching me intently. “Wow,” I breathe. “When you shift, let your animal senses take control. If you don’t restrain them and let instincts take over, you’ll see the world in a whole new way.” I face the vast bed of cold. Embrace my animal side? I’m not sure I’m ready for that—or that I even want to. Trevor plods through the snow, and I slowly walk

after him. The hike across the snowy land is not easy. It takes us almost two days, and I have to shift into a polar bear twice—once to tunnel out a den, the second time to make an oncoming male polar bear think twice about attacking. I carry Shiver on my back most of the trip, her short legs unable to keep up with Trevor’s swift pace. When we reach the foot of the mountains, Trevor catches two pheasants. I tell him to warn me before he guts them. To which he snorts and responds, “It’s just organs and blood—same stuff you’ve got inside you.” Still, he takes the limp birds to another spot. I take my human form and miraculously I am able to start a fire while he finishes that task. We only allow ourselves to rest until the mellow pre-dawn light begins to tiptoe across the sky. As we scale the mountains I practice using my senses whenever I’m in animal form. Two more days and we reach a peak overlooking a long, narrow valley. Lissa. Warmth brushes my face and tangles my hair. The long, mint-green grass rolls like waves on the sea. It’s a welcoming sight after our hasty trek across the craggy mountains. Trees color the last few miles before they abruptly stop and the flowing grass takes over the landscape. “Look at all that pretty grass!” Shiver squeals. Her eagerness is contagious. Jittery with excitement, I barely keep from bouncing up and down. Wolf. Especially since we’re so close to Ryan and Dark. “We’re headed there.” Trevor points his muzzle to a fortress of rocks. “Then let’s go! If we run, it shouldn’t take more than an hour.” I jump to my paws and race down the slope. Trevor bounds ahead of me, and I crash to a stop, my face smashing into his shoulder. “You can’t just go racing off. Haven’t you learned anything?” His lips twitch, the equivalent of a frown in people form. “I’ve learned plenty,” I say indignantly. “Then you should know to be more careful.” He turns away, and I narrow my

eyes at his back. He’s been wound tight ever since we’ve gotten closer to the stones. “I didn’t know dirt and trees could be dangerous. The air is void of animal smells. If I can tell this forest hasn’t been traveled in days, so can you.” “Just because nothing’s been here specifically doesn’t mean nothing is around,” Trevor retorts. “Isn’t he a petal of sunlust,” Shiver mutters just as I breathe, “Someone’s acting paranoid.”

Lissa. The grass is as high as my hips, the blades fuzzy and tapered. It sways from one direction to another in an almost mesmerizing way. Trevor catches up —in human form—and wordlessly faces the collection of boulders on the right border of the grass sea, and heads toward them. I follow, the excitement fizzing through me growing stronger with every step. When we’re beneath the boulders, I gape in amazement at their sheer size. They tower up to the sky, some jagged and jutting out at odd angles, leaning against each other—broken, fragmented, and creviced in thousands of places. Some are jammed together, while others have yards of space between them. The dirt beneath us is dry like it hasn’t tasted rain in years, and there isn’t a hint of vegetation. “Hey, wait up!” I call to Trevor as he barely gives the boulders a second glance before winding his way through them. He weaves among the rocks like he’s been here before. Assuming he’s following a scent I can’t decipher, I unquestionably follow his lead while Shiver slips between the rocks, disappearing and reappearing, her jaws often smacking with pleasure. “Trev—” He stops suddenly, and this time I meet his back. “If you’re going to keep stopping short, you might as well warn—” Something barrels into my side, knocking the breath from me as I slam to the

dirt. A soft, furry cheek rubs against mine. The creature hops off, and I roll over into a sitting position. Ecstatic, emerald eyes stare at me. “Dark!” I say. “Who else could pounce on you so perfectly?” I give her a tight hug before answering, “Only you. Where’s Ryan?” Dark hangs her head, her upright tail falling. “He—he didn’t make it. I’m sorry.” Shock smacks me in the chest, hitting me so hard that it numbs the constricting pain writhing its way around my stomach. “What?” The word barely makes it past my lips. Dark flicks her tail then looks at me, eyes sparkling again. “He’s fine. Maybe a little duller since you last saw him, but other than that, he’s got all his essentials. You know, arms, legs, and hair. Can’t forget the hair, wouldn’t want a bald mate at such a young age.” “Darklily! That’s not funny,” I say and shove her aside, my face growing hot. As I get to my feet, tiny claws dig into my flesh. Shiver has latched herself onto the back of my leg and stares up at me with a fearful gaze. I crouch down and give her a reassuring pat on the side then turn back to Dark. “We are not mates!” “That’s not even her worst. She’s been a huge pest since we lost you,” Ryan says. My cheeks flame even more at the pleasant sound of Ryan’s voice. Ryan gives me his crooked smile, and I fight the urge to fling myself at him and wrap him in a giant hug. He takes a step forward like he might be thinking the same thing. “So where’s this tiger?” Trevor asks. I’m almost grateful for his interruption. Being so close to Ryan could’ve definitely been a problem. Even without my enhanced sense of smell, it would’ve been challenging to not press my nose against him to breathe in his scent.

Ryan gestures for us to follow him, and I stoop to pick up Shiver. We follow him to a slanting cave and down the tunnel at the back of it. As I head in, he places himself inches from me. My skin tingles to alert me of his close proximity, and I allow my eyes to drift over to his arm. I take in his soft skin and hand, not so large as Trevor’s but still big enough to engulf my small one. An almost indiscernible, disapproving growl comes from behind, and I snap my eyes away. Trevor must be reading me like a book. “It’ll get brighter in a minute,” Ryan assures us. “These branches they use for light are incredible. They call them Eternal Flames because, once set on fire, they never go out, even underwater.” “That’s crazy,” I say. A burning flame glows deeper within the tunnel, and as we approach it, I have to pause to give it a closer look. The orange flame is definitely touching the branch, but there’s no charring. No smoke either. I hover one finger close to the flame. “Come on,” Trevor grunts, pulling me away before I can find out if the flame is hot. “You guys had us worried,” Ryan says. “I mean, we knew you were alive because a hawk here was generous enough to fly out and find you. But every day that ed and you didn’t show up . . .” Trevor’s irritation is palpable, and I wonder if my senses are getting better at picking up on the variations to pheromones given off by others—or something like that. I forget how Trevor explained it. Blocking out Trevor’s mood, I ask, “Did you get here in time to stop Cobalt?” Dark flicks an ear. “Barely. I’m not sure I convinced her. I know it’s a lot to stick on you, Lissa, but you have to persuade Cobalt that you’re going to help.” A thick layer of dread is slathered on my stomach, and it dawns on me that I’m about to come face to face with a tiger—and one that is in control of armies of animals no less. It’s a war Darklily wants me to stop, a war that’s responsible for the savannah littered with bodies. How did that not sink in until now? Shiver squirms in my arms, and I realize my grip on her has tightened.

“I’ll do what I can.” But this doesn’t sound convincing, even to my ears. “We’ll be right by you,” Ryan reassures softly, brushing his arm against mine. “Of course,” Dark chimes in, “but Cobalt can’t see you relying on us. Otherwise she’ll see you as weak.” Okay. I don’t know how I’m going to do this. As if to get my mind off what’s coming, Ryan tells us that when he and Darklily arrived, Cobalt had tried to get rid of him and send Dark away. Before Dark left Pandorma to look for me, she had collected information for Cobalt—she wanted Dark to go back to doing this. Dark refused to leave though, and Cobalt finally relented and let them stay. Ryan leads us down a tunnel that juts off to the right. After three more turns, each turn being proceeded by a sudden surge of anxiety, the tunnel finally opens into a large cavern, also lit by the Eternal Flames. In the middle of the cavern is a large, knee-high slab of jagged, rectangular stone. Next to the stone sits a russetorange tiger, it’s hard, calculating gaze fixed on us. I suck in a breath. “Now I see for myself the roving humans have finally arrived.” The tiger’s steely, commanding voice doesn’t echo in the cavern. She comes to stand in front of us, specifically me. Don’t freak out. I swallow, fighting against the instinct to scream and run. Cobalt’s large, bronze head is above my own, and her thick muscles ripple smoothly with every movement. She looks like a killer that doesn’t miss her mark. Her hazel eyes examine me carefully. I think she might be sizing me up, but I’m not sure. “Darklily, you spoke of a shifter strong enough to hunt and take down our enemies—this human doesn’t look able to hunt down a cub the day it’s been born.” Dark flattens her ears. “I did say she would need training.” “You expect me to ask my warriors to continue dying while we train a shifter how to shift?” Cobalt’s searing gaze transfers to Dark. “I know how to shift,” I say, with more enthusiasm than I intended to have. But it’s as if I didn’t speak at all. Cobalt keeps her steely eyes on Dark, I don’t

even warrant an ear twitch. “Surrendering won’t ensure those warriors’ survival. It means our home will no longer be ours,” Dark says. The same hint of desperation I heard when she asked me to help creeps into her voice. Despite the claws of apprehension gripping me to the bone, I throw back my shoulders. I can’t fail Dark. I let Shiver out of my arms, though she tries to stay in them. Cobalt paces to the other side of the cave. “At this point in the hunt, there is little she can do. Our warriors are being slaughtered, and our enemies’ forces grow stronger with each sunrise.” “You mean the war,” Dark corrects. Cobalt slits her eyes. “I do not say things I do not mean, Darklily.” I take a deep breath and take a step forward. “I can shift, and if it’s not good enough, I’ll practice until I’m better. I want to help. I can help.” I hold my breath and bite the inside of my lip. The tip of Cobalt’s tail flicks. “Perhaps there is warrior in you after all.” She gestures with her tail to a wolf. “This is Cuven, my second in command.” The wolf had been hiding in the jumpy shadows until now, and he steps forward. Cuven’s coat color varies from light to dark gray. He dips his head at us then sits at Cobalt’s side, encased entirely by her shadow. “He has trained some of my finest kill packs. Take the shifter among the stones and report to me whether or not there is any point in spending our time on her. If so, we shall devise a plan as the last of the light leaves the earth.” With that Cobalt stalks out of the cavern. Dismissed. Yeesh. I turn to Dark. “You’d think she’d be happier to have me here.” I startle at a low growl. “We’d be happier if your kind just stayed off our world.” Cuven snaps.

“I came here to help,” I say, gritting my teeth. I left Dad—and my life—for this. “I hope you’re of some use then,” he says while walking out of the cavern. “I’m a shifter like Medusa and Xavier.” I march after him, the others shuffling behind me. “That means nothing. You don’t have the experience they do. Darklily, lead them to a clearing among the boulders. I have to talk with Cobalt.” Cuven veers away from us and disappears at the first bend. Dark’s whiskers twitch as she watches him leave, her ears pricked. Her tail twitches irritably as she leads us aboveground and through the twisting maze of boulders to a spot where they are spaced farther apart. Waves languidly crash upon a shore I can’t see but sounds close enough to run to. “You two have been awfully quiet,” I comment, running my hand along one of the boulders. Shockingly the boys look at each other—that’s probably the first non-hostile glance I’ve seen Trevor give Ryan. Trevor shrugs, and Ryan shoves his hands in his pockets. “I think we should help fight Medusa and Xavier,” Trevor says. “We didn’t come this far to back down because some overgrown tiger says you’re not good enough.” “Better show some respect, Trevor, or you’ll be seeing the inside of that tiger’s belly,” Dark cautions. My eyes flick over to Ryan, but whatever he has to say, he’s not saying in front of the others. “There’s Cuven!” Shiver’s loud announcement startles us all. Dark casts me eyes turned dark green from a jumble of emotions, before darting back to the cave. Trevor trails after her, but Ryan finds a spot on the ground and makes himself comfortable. Cuven throws Shiver and Ryan a purposeful, withering look, but she doesn’t get the hint and Ryan just ignores him.

Cuven turns to me. “Have you shifted at all?” he asks. Although he gives off an air of indifference, I pick up subdued eagerness underneath. I nod. “How many times?” “Several,” I answer vaguely since I don’t know the exact number. He nods his gray head meaningfully. “Makes my job easier anyway. First thing we’ll work on is shifting from one creature to another. You need to be able to do that within seconds. Once you’ve done this to perfection, I’ll give you some battle training.” “What kind of battle training? I should pick it up pretty easy since it can’t be too complex—it is just animals. I’ve seen a few stray cat fights. They do more screeching than clawing.” The fur along his spine stands rigid, and his lips pull back in the beginning of a snarl. “We’re not just animals, and if you keep thinking that way, you’ll be killed sooner than you think.” “Sorry. I didn’t think—well, when it comes to animals . . . you know, I’ve lived on Earth my whole life, and things are so different here—I have no idea what I’m doing.” “I sensed as much.” His already lowered head dips even more, and his ears disappear into his fur. “Do you want to fight for us or not?” “Yes. That’s why I’m here—I mean, I don’t know what I’m doing when it comes to fighting.” Ha. Sure I did. But that sounds better than, I want to help. I’m just not sure I’m cut out for fighting. “You’re not even fooling the regular human. I can’t train you when you lack conviction. We need a strong fighter, not a bunny who’s going to zigzag depending on how she’s feeling.” “Well, train me so that I am strong,” I demand, clenching my hands.

Cuven’s dark eyes settle on me, and I frown back. Don’t back down. “That’s better. Now, leopard, giraffe, black bear,” he says. I stand there puzzled, and he snaps, “Go! Shift!” I’m not sure I’m quite ready for Ryan to see me shift yet. I sure hope he doesn’t see me as some kind of freak. Inwardly, I shake my head. I bet this is exactly what Trevor was thinking, and I don’t want to take that path. Well, here goes nothing. I jump into the first form without difficulty then revert to my human shape to shift into the giraffe. “No!” At Cuven’s snarl, my body painfully jerks back into human form. “What?” “All at once. From one to the other. Go again, just faster.” Leopard. When I try shifting into a giraffe, it feels like walking in waist deep peanut butter. Oh so slowly my body shifts until with a painful wrench my neck and legs elongate, with the rest of my body falling into shape. I melt back into human form, breathing heavily. “Again.” Cuven’s tart command makes my anger and determination burn stronger, and I channel it into shifting. Leopard. My spine tingles as it lengthens into a tail, my limbs burn as they bend to cat form, fur engulfs my skin, nails sprout into claws, and my face jolts into a leopard’s. Giraffe. My body slugs through more peanut butter. My limbs shudder, stretching with the elasticity of a tight rubber band. Pain runs up and down my spine. I grit my teeth at the effort of forcing myself through the shift. I glare down at my trembling legs, struggling to the other animal. Black bear. The moment I the last animal, my body convulses. This time, the pain is stronger, stinging every fiber in my body. My legs and neck bunch into the sturdy neck and legs of a bear. Claws sprout, and my face takes on that of a bear’s. Now my legs visibly tremble with exhaustion, but I ignore

this, casting Cuven a glance asking for his approval. “I said black bear.” My fur is a light brown, tinted with rusted red. Huffing with indignation, I stomp up to him. “Sure. Next time I’m shifting I’ll make sure the color of the animal is correct ‘cause the pain is just wonderful.” A snarl twists Cuven’s lips. “Don’t get smart with me. Go again. We’re not stopping until I say so. Now, make it easier for both of us and roll over. , the bear is black.” I want to snap that I have no control over the color of my fur, but I don’t. Biting my tongue to keep from snarling, I take a few steps back and begin again, funneling my anger into shifting.

Blossom pink and tiger orange blend together, streaking across the sky in giant ribbons and painting every cloud they touch. I lie on top of a giant rock, chin resting on my hands, eyes squinted against the vivid light, the cool gray stone soothing my aching muscles. From here, I can see the ocean, and it plays excitedly with the light, tossing it this way and that way. Another sunset Dad would’ve loved to see. But I’m the only one enjoying it. Heart ache doesn’t feel accurate, heart crushed would be more precise. I hope he’s doing okay. Has he realized I’m gone yet? A soft combination of a sigh and moan escapes my lips. Every single muscle is nothing but mush. After a few hours of shifting, Cuven threw battle fighting into the mix. It was a lot harder than I thought it’d be. Evidently these animals don’t fight with just tooth and claw and simple attack moves—like the stray cats I referenced. Instead, they fight with complicated jumps and twists, premeditated and practiced strikes, with every animal playing up their individual strengths. It required more strategy and endurance than I’ve ever used before. To say I’m exhausted would be an understatement. “Hey, Lissa.” Despite being human, my ears perk up at the sound of Ryan’s voice.

“Want to go for a short walk?” he asks when I’ve peered over the side. I try not to make a face at the thought of shifting but fail. “I’d come up but . . .” A person couldn’t climb this rock without equipment. I get the briefest flash of pride that this is something I can do before I grimace and shift into a jaguar. “Why didn’t you just fly?” he asks as I land on the ground. Lissa. “I’m still getting the hang of that, and I didn’t feel like face-planting into a boulder with an audience.” Especially the Ryan kind of audience. He releases a single laugh then angles his head in the other direction. “I know you’re tired so we won’t walk far. I thought you might like to see the ocean.” I don’t let him know I could see it from my perch and happily fall in step beside him. “Were Cuven and Cobalt still talking?” “I think so.” Ryan smiles wanly. “Darklily and Trevor were trying to eavesdrop, but I’m pretty sure that tunnel is being guarded.” “Oh.” I take my socks and shoes off to let the sand squish between my toes. Still far from the waves, we sit in the sand, Ryan close enough to satisfy this ever-growing need to be near him. “You haven’t said much since Trevor and I got here.” I dig my hands into the layer of cool sand below. “Yeah.” Leaning forward, Ryan rests his elbows on his knees. “I don’t like it, Darklily relying on you to save her world.” I brush my hands off and twist my hair around, pulling it to one side of my neck. “I’m not sure I’ve fully warmed up to fighting in this war either. But I have to help. She needs me. I’d feel horrible if I went home and those shifters completely destroyed Pandorma. This place is incredible.” “It is, but I don’t want you to get hurt trying to save it,” he says softly after a

pause. Too late for that. “At least if I get hurt here, it’ll be with flair.” No one else can say they were almost mermaid food. “Lissa.” He drags out my name, his tone half joking, half serious. “I don’t want you, Dark, Trevor, or Shiver to get hurt either, but it can’t be prevented.” “Yeah. I know.” He runs a hand over his head. “Guess we’re doing this then.” I pull in my ankles. “Ryan . . . are you worried about your parents not knowing where you are?” His shoulders heft up, and his head tips to the side. “I won’t be missed.” I stare at him. How could he not be missed? And by his parents of all people. Could his life be even more crazy than mine? The one day we really spent any time together, not studying homework, we didn’t go into any in-depth family details. Any question I think to ask now could potentially be asked of me—and I’m not sure I want to give out any family details of my own. “Cobalt wants to speak to you, people,” a clipped male voice says. We both twist around. A coyote stares at us, its honey eyes golden in the setting light. “All right,” I say. Ryan is quick to get up so he can help me to my feet. “Guess we’ll find out if you’re worthy or not.” “Ha. Right.” The coyote keeps one ear angled back at me as he leads us to the tunnel where Cobalt waits. “Come,” Cobalt instructs. She and Cuven are sitting on one side of a rock slab. Eternal Flames at the

corners of the rock table illuminate the cavern in a soft orange light, opposing shadows a gray darker than Cuven’s coat. Trevor and Dark sit on the other side but are turned partially away from the rock. I take the spot next to Dark, and Ryan sits at the end of the rock. “We left the snack in the cavern where we’ll be sleeping,” Dark says. “You mean Shiver?” Dark flips her head. “It was hard to catch a name with all the words pouring out of her mouth.” “Cuven tells me you are worth our time, shifter,” Cobalt says. “It’s Lissa.” Cobalt blinks. Her eyes hold no emotion, and neither does her eloquent voice. “Retrieve the leaf.” Cuven retreats to a small, scooped-out portion of the cavern then returns and places an oval, beige-ish-white leaf on the rock. About an inch thick, the top of the leaf is rough with numerous tiny pits, the edge and underside smooth to the touch. Ryan fingers the leaf as well. “What kind of leaf is this?” “A Yu leaf,” Cuven answers. I uncross my legs and tuck them beneath me so I can move in closer. Thick black Xs are slashed over two giant landmasses, and smaller Xs dot various other places. My eyes rove around the map, soaking in the shape of the land, trying to commit it to memory, even though there are barely any geographical features. Forests, deserts, rivers, lakes, and a handful of other places are scribbled down, a few hardly decipherable because of the bumpy surface. The map looks as if it had been hastily drawn, the outline of the land jagged, with lines crossed, recrossed, and triple crossed. “How accurate is this?” I question, leaning back on my heels. “The land is meant to be traced and ed by paw, not conformed to

scribbles on a leaf,” Cobalt says with distaste. She stabs a claw on a place far from us. A small mountain range, nothing behind it, nothing in front of it. Strange that it’s blank. But I guess they wouldn’t know the enemy territory super well. “This is—rumored, mind you—where Xavier is supposed to have his headquarters. Cuven and I felt it best if you hunt him before Medusa. Though strong, I believe with hard training, you could inflict fatal wounds or better yet, just kill him. He is like Medusa’s thorns. Taking him out will leave her more vulnerable.” “Vulnerable but still deadly. Cobalt, Lissa can’t attack Medusa. Medusa fights in many battles, and I’ve heard enough to know she’s an apex predator,” Dark interrupts. Cobalt gives her a level stare. “I said nothing about Lissa attacking Medusa. Yet. One hunt at a time. Darklily, I want you and this male shifter to locate Medusa’s general location. Our last informant placed her in the far southern lands.” My eyes snap over to Trevor. He doesn’t appear to mind being referred to as just a male shifter. “We are suspecting Medusa will soon claim a large amount of territory, but we do not know when or where. It is vital we stop this. More territory means more control. While you travel, Darklily, seek out any other information that could be useful. As usual, anything about Medusa is top priority.” Cobalt’s paw slides off the leaf map. “I will inform you when you are to depart from here.” Dark gives a small bow of her head. “So Lissa is supposed to travel all this way”—Ryan’s hand runs from our location to the puncture Cobalt’s claw left—“by herself, to fight another shifter.” Cobalt turns back one ear. “Why are you here? Forgive me if I put this harshly, but your kind is not fit for our world. I suggest you find the nearest portal and return home.” Ryan holds her gaze. “I’m not leaving. And I think I should go with Lissa.” I can’t help raising my eyebrows a tad. I guess he’s not afraid of getting mauled.

I like the idea of him being with me much better than that of going alone. “Hold on. Ryan can’t go with Lissa.” Laughter bites around Trevor’s words. “He can’t watch her back or help her survive—he almost got her killed not twentyfour hours after we stepped foot on Pandorma. Let him go with Dark. I’ll go with Lissa.” Dark’s tail swishes across the floor. Ryan’s shoulders pinch back, and his jaw clenches. Cobalt looks none too happy either. Her flinty eyes narrow at Trevor. “I gave you your orders. I want you with Darklily.” Trevor’s eyes turn to stone, and his jaw clenches so tightly I’m afraid he’s going to hurt himself. “But you, human, are of no use. Return to Earth where you belong.” “No. I’m going with Lissa. And it’s Ryan.” Cobalt had been mid-stand to walk away. She now halts. “He did make it here okay.” I hold my breath, sure that our combined defiance will get us thrown out or worse. “Very well. He will only hold you back, and he could be killed within hours. You have not survived the worst of Pandorma. Now is not the time for certain emotions to be guiding your actions. But if that is what you choose.” Is it that obvious? I rub my hands over my knees and lean closer to the map so that my hair will fall around my face. “Lissa, your training will have to be swift and fierce. The sooner we are able to get this war over with, the better,” Cobalt says. “Training will start with the rising of the sun.” Cuven grasps the leaf map between his teeth. “What if I had a sword or maybe a bow and some arrows?” Ryan asks suddenly.

“A sword?” Cobalt’s bewilderment is obvious. “Yeah. Do you have a pencil or something? To draw with,” Ryan adds when neither understand what he means. Cuven looks at Cobalt for approval before retracing his steps to where he deposited the leaf. He returns with an object in his mouth, which he places in Ryan’s hand. It’s a pointed stick freshly dipped in what I guess to be a kind of ink. Cuven places a smaller Yu leaf on the rock next to a small, crudely made clay bowl. Ryan sketches out his sword and bow and arrow. Cobalt studies it closely, the end of her tail sharply flicking back and forth. “Fetch Synth,” she orders Cuven. “Ryan, go with Cuven and direct the forming of these weapons. Darklily, show Lissa to the sleeping den.” Her whiskers twitch. “You are going to need all the rest you can get.” “Dark, how can you be okay with Lissa going off to fight this guy on her own?” Trevor growls once Cobalt, Ryan, and Cuven have left the cavern. “I might not agree, but Cobalt is our leader. I won’t defy her.” Her gaze darts over to me. “Besides, I think being on your own will make you stronger. It’ll certainly teach you how to survive.” “I won’t be alone. I’ll be with Ryan,” I correct as I get to my feet. Blood rushes back into my legs, and I stomp my left foot to stop the pricking sensation running through it. Dark and Trevor share a look of skepticism, and I brace for their comments. “I think I’ll talk to Cobalt again about Ryan and me trading places,” Trevor says, stretching his torso. Not what I was expecting him to say. I follow Dark, my leg muscle still clenching up but in a bearable way. “You do that so I don’t have to worry about traveling with anyone. Lissa, tell me everything that happened after we lost you,” Dark says as we head to our sleeping den.

“You’re too sympathetic,” Cuven growls. I gently release Trevor’s leg from between my wolf teeth. From another side of the clearing Ryan, Dark, and Shiver watch curiously. “Trevor is my friend,” I argue. “I can’t hurt him for real.” Cuven’s ear twitches irritably. “No creature will take mercy on you or spare your life. You’re going for his paws and shoulders. You’re hesitating and giving him time to plan a counterattack. He can tell what you’re going to do even before you do it.” I flatten my ears. There’s no point in arguing that I’m not even close to having recovered from yesterday’s training. “Let’s go again,” I tell Trevor, my voice as heavy as my limbs. Cuven steps in front of me and herds me to a corner away from the others. “Where Trevor has size, you have speed. Use it,” he whispers fiercely. “Aim for the back of the neck, the thighs, anywhere you can get a grip that will bring him down, not just make a harmless wound.” Before I can repeat that I don’t want to injure Trevor, he snaps, “This is only practice. You don’t have to sink your teeth in hard. You just need to hit your mark.” “All right,” I agree reluctantly. I again face Trevor. “You can do it, Lis!” Shiver chirps encouragingly. Back of the neck or thighs, I repeat. My heart pounds—I can’t keep failing, which so far is all I’ve been doing. I dive for his front paws. He maneuvers his jaws to bite me, but I slither under him, sinking my teeth into his thigh. I pull back hard, yanking his feet out from under him. He’s quick to roll back onto his feet, and he lunges for me. I spring away, half circle around, and jump on his back. I sink my teeth into his neck and gently twist. Had I used my full strength, that could’ve been a killing bite. I jump off Trevor’s back and look at Cuven.

“Now you’re getting the hang of it,” he says with a hint of approval.

After a few more battles, Cuven has us stop and commands me to take several different forms. In each form, he shows me how it would be best to attack and where my weak points are. For most creatures, it’s the belly, but for birds it’s the wings. He instructs me to only fight in bird form if I’m fighting other birds. “Your balance needs lots of work. Shift into a leopard. Now balance on your hindlegs and hold that position.” I take the leopard form and rear up but almost immediately tip back onto my front legs. “Again. While this move exposes your stomach, it can also allow you to quickly strike with both front claws.” I sure hope there’s a break coming up soon. I could really use a drink and a snack. I’m about to pull myself onto my hindlegs again when an unfamiliar scent drifts into the clearing. “Cuven, Cobalt wants to speak with you,” a coyote says, its eyes flicking to me. They scurry away, and Ryan comes to sit by me. Lissa. “You’re getting better,” he compliments. I smile. “It sure doesn’t feel that way but thanks.” “It’s actually a little scary knowing what you’re capable of, but since you’re on our side, it’s pretty incredible.” I smile and tuck some hair behind my ear. His smile fades, and he flicks a pebble on the ground. “I don’t think Cobalt was expecting us.” “What do you mean?” “Well”—he lowers his voice even more—“she wasn’t very happy when Darklily told her about you. She didn’t want to spend time finding you, and I don’t think

she even considered the fact that you were going to help.” “I don’t understand,” I whisper slowly. Ryan leans closer to me. “So maybe Darklily went to find you without her permission. You’d think she’d still be curious.” “Maybe she was afraid I’d be as bad as Medusa and Xavier.” “I guess.” He looks down, picks off the end of an uneven nail. “I’ve been in enough situations to know when something’s off. I get that feeling here.” Him saying this isn’t supposed to, but it sets my brain on a different path. What kind of situations has he been in? Ryan’s Earth life is quite the mystery—and he speaks of it even less than I talk about my own. If only I could see inside his head. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Cuven’s gray coat. His eyes stony, he orders, “Let’s get back to training.” Ryan and I exchange a look before he shuffles back to his spot and I drag my feet to my awaiting torture.

After four days of training in the same clearing, we moved to a different clearing among the stones. I keep forgetting about the holes Trevor and Cuven dug to teach me how to fight on uneven ground. And this gets the better of me. I let out a cry of pain and hit the ground. Blood soaks my lion-orange fur, and behind me, Ryan lets out a curse. “You hurt her,” Ryan accuses. “Don’t shift,” Cuven instructs just as I revert to human form. He growls grumpily, “You heal faster in animal form, and shifting when you have a wound isn’t a good idea. You bleed faster mid-shift, and there’s always the chance you can open the wound more. Especially if you shift from a larger creature to a smaller creature.”

“Is that why it started tingling?” I ask, lessening the blood flow from the long gash by covering it with my hand. “When I was in animal form?” Cuven flicks an ear. Eyes flashing, Ryan tries to inspect the wound beneath my clenched fingers. Shiver trots over and peers at the rivulet of blood with large eyes. “Ryan, I’m fine,” I insist. “His paw slipped, and his claw caught me. That’s all. If anything it was my fault. I stepped into that hole and threw off my balance.” Ryan tries to pull my hand away. “I still want to see. We should probably bandage it up.” Cuven snaps, “She’ll be all right in just a moment.” Ryan presses his lips together then parts them. I put my hand over his. “It’s fine.” He clenches his jaw and lifts my sleeve to see how deep it is. Shiver sucks in her breath and closes her eyes tight. “Don’t do that!” “They probably don’t have any kind of bandage anyway,” I tell him. Ryan takes my bloodied hand and holds it on the wound, squeezing firmly and causing blood to bubble up through my fingers. “Don’t let go until it’s healed, okay?” I nod. “We’ll work on something else until it heals,” Cuven says dismissively. As if to placate Ryan before he can dispute this, he adds, “It’ll only be sensory training. Follow, Lissa. You stay,” he says to Ryan. “You’re too much of a distraction.” I give Ryan and Shiver an apologetic look then trail after Cuven as he weaves among the boulders. “While fighting and knowing how to kill the enemy is important, your senses are essential to your survival. Knowing what’s around you and what’s been there can

help you decide if you feel like picking a fight with a creature defending its territory or if you want to keep moving. The wiser would keep moving.” “Of course.” I remove my hand from my arm and brush it against my jeans. I’ll have to make a trip down to the ocean once we’re done. “Since you’re still a pup when it comes to shifting, your senses won’t be very strong in human form yet. But I feel you’ll be in this form most so let’s see if we can’t hurry the process. What do you smell?” I close my eyes, and there’s a bark-like harrumph. “Learn with your eyes open, since they will be most time.” I open them. “I smell my own blood.” His amber eyes glitter at me, his lips pulling back ever so slightly. “What else? There’s never just one scent.” I catch myself before I can close my eyes. I slowly pace, trying to pick up other scents on different channels of air. The scent of blood is difficult to by though. “Well there’s the ocean,” I finally say. Again, he stares me down. “Let’s try something else. You’re going to put your nose against the stones, the trees, the leaves. Perhaps you should shift so that you get a deeper knowledge of the scent.” Tiger. We do this exercise until I’m sure there isn’t an object I haven’t shoved my nose against. After he’s satisfied, we switch to my hearing. For the first part, Cuven instructs me to close my eyes and approximate where and how far away he is. This is by far the easiest of my training, and I master it quickly. Several more exercises and the sun has floated down to the lower portion of the sky. Before heading back to the caves, Cuven says he has to find an old bone— he didn’t elaborate beyond that. He orders me to close my eyes and follow him by scent only, but after we’ve traveled a distance and he doesn’t tell me to reopen my eyes or how I’ve done, I realize this is about secrecy, not training. I stop asking questions when he refuses to answer any, and upon reaching our

destination, he tells me I can open my eyes but to keep my back to him. In wolf form, I turn one ear back. His claws rake up the earthy smell of dirt. “Hey, maybe when we train tomorrow I can shift into a Tyrannosaurs Rex,” I say, kneading the base of my paws against the ground. “I think it’d be kinda awesome to be a T. Rex—” He makes a scoffing growl. “Go ahead and try shifting into one of those monsters. You’ll probably kill yourself.” He pauses then, in a different spot, snuffles around in a zigzag motion. “Those heavy stomping hunters are not awesome. They are nasty creatures.” “How would that kill me?” I ask, puzzled, and start to turn around. “Keep facing the other way,” he snaps. “Your body does a lot of adjusting to take a form so large. You should have a season of shifting behind you before attempting that.” “Oh. A season? Are you sure? That’d be a few months. You seem to know a lot about shifters.” “You learn a thing or two when a pair of them start to tear up your world,” he grumbles. He starts scratching away at the dirt again. “Maybe I can help,” I offer. “You’re not putting your grubby paws on my bone.” I frown. What is so special about this bone? “It’s still here,” Cuven says, sounding relieved and satisfied. “What is?” I’m about to turn around again but stop myself. “Last full moon, I got hold of some healing water. I was afraid it would disappear again so I hid it inside a bone. I wanted to check and make sure it was still here.” “Disappear? And where do you get water that can heal? I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

“The few times we’ve obtained healing water, it has disappeared or been promptly used up. Healing water is rare and exceptionally difficult to find. The springs are usually guarded by thick forest or deceptive land. They don’t replenish once used up, so to have some is a great advantage, especially if you get a large wound. It’ll heal you right up.” “That’s useful.” “Yes, it is,” Cuven agrees and comes to stand by me. “I’ll make sure to put the water in your pack before you leave. Let’s head back to the others now.”

“I’ve never seen anything like that!” Shiver exclaims. At the entrance to the tunnel, Ryan shows off his sword, and the bow, some arrows at his feet. “More arrows are being made,” he tells us. He has three right now. The sword’s razor-sharp sides gleam menacingly in the sun, the handle a simple T made of a Dalmatian-colored stone. He catches me studying the handle. “It’s an intrusive igneous rock called Diorite.” I stare at him blankly. He laughs. “That’s what Synth called it. Apparently he’s an expert on rocks and metals. He’s been collecting them in the caverns long before Cobalt took over them.” Ryan then shows me the sword’s sheath—which is made of green leaves that are super sticky on top and next to impossible to tear, especially when stuck together —and the metal lining on the inside to prevent the blade from cutting the leaf as it’s drawn out or put back in. “I can’t believe how fast these were made. What’s it been? Like ten, twelve days since you drew them on the paper?” I inspect the sword closer when he offers it to me. “It doesn’t seem so fast when you’ve put in as many hours as Synth and I did. The sword was easier to construct than the bow. Synth is pretty clever.” He takes the sword back, his eyes flicking to Cuven then back to me. “He knows quite a bit. I would almost think he’d been to Earth before, but he didn’t answer when I

asked if he had.” “No creature of Pandorma would ever it to going to Earth unless it was absolutely necessary.” Dark’s eyes indicate I was her excuse. Ryan shrugs, now picking up the bow and an arrow. His thoughtful, drifting gaze makes me wish those thoughts would drift out of his head into words, but then he smiles and hitches the arrow against the bow. “Have you shot an arrow before?” I ask. “No. But it can’t be too difficult, right?” Cuven, who had been sitting quietly a few feet away, now sighs wearily. “Ryan, I hope you’re capable of hitting your target. If I have to dig one of those sharp points out of my flesh, you’ll find my teeth in your hide,” he growls. “Ah Cuven, I’m sure you’d find a way to do that even if I didn’t get you with an arrow,” Ryan jokes, removing the arrow from its cradle. Cuven merely flicks an ear.

Over the next ten days Cuven works Ryan into our training, mainly focusing on honing Ryan’s battle skills. Sometimes I’ll find a long, thick stick, and we’ll have mock battles, his sword always sheathed. At times, Dark and Trevor in on the fights. Cuven watches carefully and uses these battles to train us in fighting as a team as well as how to defend ourselves against an attack with more than one creature. When Cuven focuses on perfecting Ryan’s sword and archery skills, I get to sit on the sidelines for once. With Dark on one side and Shiver on the other, we watch with interest at first but often ended up talking instead of watching. If Trevor isn’t needed, he makes himself scarce. When I ask what he does, he says he was exploring or keeping tabs on Cobalt and her small team of animals—he found her reaction to Dark bringing me here strange as well. With Cuven’s lessons never ending before the light is weaker than a glaring full moon, the five of us make it a habit to troop down to the beach to eat our dinner

in the disappearing, glittering rays. But the hike isn’t just so we could see our food. The crashing waves provide security from prying ears. Our rations rarely consist of anything other than slabs of well-cooked meat, which I had yet to train myself to not wolf down. A hunger resides in my belly that is never quite satisfied. I now roll onto my stomach, casting my hearing beyond the waves. I kick a leg up. Even the fish are silent beneath the water. Shiver scratches out an indent in the sand and curls up, yawning. “Did you hear anything today, Trevor?” I hold back a yawn. So far, he’d heard nothing of value—and I could understand why. When I didn’t pick up his footsteps, I got a whiff of his scent, an experienced hunter like Cobalt probably only needed to sense the vibrations of his feet. Trevor finishes off a few more bites of meat and huddles closer to us, his eyes hinting that this time he’d been successful eavesdropping. “I was out at the far edge of the silk grass”—his name for the valley of grass—“looking for fruit for you when one of Cobalt’s bird spies flew above me.” Trevor demonstrates this with his hand not holding his meat. “You know how the wind’s been pretty dead all day? Well, I followed the bird, and Cobalt was there waiting for it. I didn’t want to get too close so I could only hear bits and pieces, but she told the bird not to worry. She said she’d instructed Cuven to only train you well enough that a cub couldn’t kill you.” “He’s certainly doing more than that,” Dark states, stretching out her back legs. “Sounds like this bird was a messenger, not a spy,” Ryan says, getting to his feet and going to the water to rinse his hands. Trevor chews off another bite of meat, one shoulder sloping up then down. “If it was a messenger, then who was Cobalt sending a message to? Did you hear a name?” I angle my body toward Trevor. His mouth is still full of meat. “Cobalt wouldn’t have said a name,” Dark says. “Messengers only go between two creatures. It would already know who the message is for.” “I guess that leaves us right where we were before.” Ryan sighs, sitting so that

he’s in front of me but to the side so the ocean is still in view. “We still know nothing of value.” Dark swishes her tail. “It might be that way until we leave the stones.” “I’ll still keep my ears open,” Trevor says while tearing off a new bite of meat. Dark shakes her head. “Best keep your eyes open too. Had Cobalt caught you spying, these two would be looking for your body right now.” Trevor feigns a look of hurt. “You wouldn’t look for me?” “I think two noses hunting for you is more than enough,” she replies flippantly. “Wait.” I pull myself off the sand and onto my knees. “If Cuven’s not supposed to be training me very well, how am I supposed to fight Xavier?” As if washed up by a wave, my mission at the end of my training just came to mind. “Don’t worry. I might not be an expert fighter, but I know enough and Cuven’s training you much better than what Cobalt believes.” “Oh.” I start wiping sand off my chest and thighs. “I guess that kinda means Cuven is on our side.” No one agrees, but they don’t disagree either so I continue, “We could just ask him what’s up with Cobalt.” Trevor quickly stomps on the idea. “We can’t do that.” “I have to agree,” Dark seconds. “Cuven might not be fully following Cobalt’s orders, but I still wouldn’t trust him.” “I think for now it’s best if no one outside our group knows we’re suspicious,” Ryan says. Trevor jerks his head toward Ryan. “What he said.” “Guess we’ll just have to be in the dark,” I say. As if to punctuate my words, the ocean swallows the last of the light, casting us into veritable darkness.

I’m not sure how much snooping Trevor does over the next couple days, but I

know he doesn’t find out anything. I give it little thought. Especially on a day like this, with the afternoon rays of the sun happily beating down on the earth, keeping the air comfortably warm. Less than ten feet away is the ocean, the sound of its waves crashing against the shore a gentle rhythm. Dark and I are lying in the shade of a boulder. Her eyes are closed, her tail lazily flicking every now and then. Dark and Trevor are leaving today, so Cuven gave us the day off from training. It caught me by surprise, but Cuven had been quick to explain that we would be training as soon as it got dark. For the tenth time, my eyes fall on Dark. It could be a while before we see each other again. I run my hand over my arm and stare at the ground. Since Trevor, Shiver, and I got here, we’ve grown closer. I’d forgotten what it was like to have the kind of friend who sought out my company, who wanted to share presence whether we talked or not. I trace my finger in a circle in the sandy-dirt earth. “I wish we didn’t have to separate,” I say. Dark’s chest heaves and her eyes are wistful. “Me either. I would much rather you and I paired up, but I guess it makes sense this way. Being on your own, basically, will make you stronger, and I’m one of Cobalt’s best ‘spies.’” She shakes her head at using Trevor’s term. “The more information I can pick up, the more we’ll know. I’ll definitely be seeking out information aside from what Cobalt wants.” I nod. “As long as we meet up after.” Dark’s tail gently thumps my back. “Of course we will.” I lay down and roll onto my back. Cloud streamers don’t appear to be moving, but as I stare, they’re definitely forming different shapes. One takes up the disted form of a mermaid. “I think my dad has been here before,” I murmur. The last couple days, this thought has been sneaking around my head. And before then really, back to the dinosaurs, to the mermaid even—because my daddy did warn me to beware mermaid’s melodies, but his bedtime-story manner of sharing this information didn’t quite lodge it in my brain as important. It surfaces every now and then at moments my brain is clearly doing some contemplating behind my back.

I think I see Dark stiffen, but then she peeks at me, stretches and sits and I decide I was imagining things. I expect her to provide an explanation like Trevor or tell me it’s impossible for him to have been here. Shouldn’t it be, if his stories are correct and only animals can find the portals? “It wouldn’t be unheard of for a human to accidentally end up on Pandorma. What makes you think he’s been here?” I sit up. “He used to tell me stories. I thought they were fake but it’s too much of a coincidence that some of the things he told me about are real here. Why would he not tell me about Pandorma directly?” “It’s obvious why not,” Darklily says playfully. “This place can be very dangerous. He probably knew you’d ignore that fact and go looking for a portal anyway. You’re too curious.” I grin. “That might be true, but I’m careful.” A thought suddenly enters my mind, and I swallow. I open my mouth then close it. Getting the words out is like the time I tried to ride a bike with a rusty chain stuck on the hardest gear, except the chain is stuck on my heart and it pinches tighter with every word. “What if he isn’t human? He practically lied about Pandorma. Why tell me fairytales? Why not tell me nothing, if he doesn’t want me to know about it? He was always telling me to be kind and understanding because you never know what’s going on in a person’s life. He was probably talking about himself, about him being—being a shifter. It makes sense.” I’ve come to the definite conclusion that Mom cannot shift. I find it hard to believe she can do anything that doesn’t involve hair or furthering her own selfish interests. But there are times Dad’s senses seem unnaturally perceptive. Of course I didn’t give it a lot of thought at the time, but now . . . I press my fingers to my palms, wanting to hit them against something. Dark is silent for longer than necessary, and I replay everything I just said. Maybe I said too much. I run my fingers through my hair, parting out knots. “I think he didn’t tell you about Pandorma to keep you safe. If he was a shifter,

well . . . you know how difficult it was for you to believe that,” she finally says. “I don’t know your dad, so whatever he didn’t tell you, he must’ve had a good reason.” I look out at the ocean. A good reason? People always found a good reason for hiding something—never a good reason for telling the truth though. “Well it’d better be a darn good reason because I want the truth when I see him again.” “Tell him he can thank the talking jaguar for making his confession easier.” I force a laugh, but it’s flat. Between the stories of his childhood and our indepth conversations, I always felt I knew Dad very well. He might as well be a stranger. Well, that might be a stretch, but it felt right. There’s a light patter of feet right before the coyote rounds the corner. “Cobalt says it’s time to leave, Darklily.” “All right,” she tells him but doesn’t move. She narrows her eyes, and he reluctantly moves away. “I wish we could all leave together.” Dark butts her head against my shoulder. “Lissa, it’ll be better this way. Just don’t panic if something happens to Ryan, okay?” I take a deep breath. “I’ll try not to, but he’ll be fine.” She flicks an ear. “We’ll meet up again soon. Be careful and try not to be too human.” I snort. “You guys be careful too.” Dread settles in my stomach as she disappears from view. It wouldn’t be long now before Ryan and I head off too. And once that happens, I’m expected to do my part and take down Xavier. I bite the inside of my lip. I sure hope you’re training me to take down another shifter, Cuven.

Chapter 11

“Lissa.” Ryan murmurs. No, I don’t want to get up yet. I roll away. A woody, smoky scent wreathes around my nose. He must’ve been with Synth. Ryan always smelled like smoke and metal after being in the golden lion tamarin’s cave. “Come on, Lissa. Cobalt wants to speak with us,” he says. I slowly open my eyes. Ryan stares down at me. “All right,” I mumble and shoo him away from my face. He sits back, but I can feel his eyes on me. He’s not going to let me get a few extra minutes of sleep. I get to my feet and follow him to Cobalt’s cave. Cobalt’s dark orange tail flicks impatiently, her scowl deepening when she catches sight of us. “Punctuality. Something you both should learn.” I hold back a sigh. There’s no pleasing this cat. I turn my gaze to Cobalt’s right side, where Cuven usually places himself, but he’s not there. Strange. Even after he’s done with our training, he usually sticks close by. If not to us, then to Cobalt. “Where’s Cuven?” I ask. Ryan surreptitiously looks around the cave as Cobalt flicks an ear dismissively. “He was sent away.” Sent away? Cuven is her second in command. How could he have been sent away? But more importantly, why was he sent away? Cobalt must have found out he was giving us more training than directed and decided to get rid of him. I clasp my hands behind my back and squeeze my knuckles. I hope he’s okay. He might’ve been gruff most of the time, but I’d grown kind of fond of him. “Where is he?” I ask firmly.

Cobalt’s eyes remain fixed on a spot behind me. I’m not even granted a cold stare. “You both will leave now. Synth has a pack of items for you, as well as twenty additional arrows. Head north and travel quick,” Cobalt instructs as she’s leaving. A bundle of nerves rests in my stomach, and finding out Cuven is gone only makes my stomach twist more. “Despite how irritating Cobalt can be, she still scares me. I don’t know how I’m supposed to fight Xavier.” As I try to say this lightly, I play with my fingernails, and I can feel the anxiety etched on my face. Ryan seems at a loss for words, his eyes dark. I wonder if he’s nervous too. If he is, there isn’t a trace of it. I start walking out, before I can do too much thinking. “Lissa,” Ryan says. I turn back around. “We can do this. You can do this.” He sounds so confident. And he doesn’t even have a world of creatures at his beckoning. I pull back my shoulders and breathe in, taking stock of the scents. Scents only I can pick up because I’m a shifter. “You’re right. We can.”

Shiver and I wait near the west side of forest, as Ryan asked, while he goes to get the rest of his arrows and the backpack. I play with my lip. I hope I got enough training. “Ready?” Ryan asks. “Ready!” Shiver squeals, and I nod. Although it isn’t discussed, there’s no question about Shiver not going with Ryan and me. I watch as she bounces around Ryan’s feet, her nose wiggling. To her, this is just a big adventure. I’m not even sure she knows how dangerous it could

be. “I’m ready if you are.” I slide off the rock I’d been sitting on. “Here.” He hands me the backpack. Ryan hangs the quiver on his shoulder then slides the sword into its sheath. “Okay.” He nods, maybe encouraging himself, then steps into the forest, Shiver and me at his side. “I studied the map again a couple days ago. This stretch of the forest will take longer, but we’ll have to go through less snowy land.” “That is music to my ears. I don’t care what I can shift into. I don’t like the cold.” “Me either!” Shiver agrees, bouncing once. Ryan smiles, fleetingly. “Trevor and Dark have been gone for eight days now. I wonder where they are,” I muse. “Knowing how well those two get along, I’d be more curious how they’re doing,” he says, readjusting the quiver. I exhale a laugh. “Yeah, that’d be interesting.” He stares straight ahead, his jaw set. He doesn’t look angry, but his mood has certainly changed. Did something happen between the time he went to get the pack and met us near the forest? “Are you okay?” I ask. Ryan exhales loudly, running a hand through his hair. He no longer looks confident. His brows drawn together in a hard line. “Maybe we’re in way over our heads.” “What happened to ‘we can do this’?” “Now that we’re heading out, I’m not sure this is a good idea. I don’t know, Synth told me—”

Cuven steps in our path. A large smile spreads across my face, and I roll up onto my toes. “You’re okay! I was worried when Cobalt told us she sent you away.” “She had to,” he growls. “What does that mean?” Ryan asks. “Cuven, is Cobalt on our side or not?” Cuven growls with frustration. “Cobalt is clever and a skilled fighter. She’ll do what needs to be done, whether it’s to keep herself alive or all of us.” Well, that doesn’t really answer the question. He reads our faces and growls again but this time in annoyance. “Our basic instinct is to keep ourselves alive. Now I need you both to listen closely. Whatever you do, Lissa, do not attack Xavier. I have trained you well, but they are experienced killers and it would take them seconds to kill you.” I cock my head. So now I’m not fighting another shifter. Relief and irritation hit me. What was all that bone-cracking training for then? We could’ve focused less on my fight skills and worked more on my spy skills instead. “What needs to be done is their army weakened. You must still travel to Xavier’s mountains, find a way in to the center. They should have a stockpile of crype root. It’ll be white and smell strongly of vanilla. Fill your pack with this and your quiver if possible.” “I’ll carry some too,” Shiver says enthusiastically. “All that training and we’re going to steal some root?” I ask. “Sounds better to me than you fighting another shifter,” Ryan says. “This root must have some strong effects.” I purse my lips and look to the side. “It won’t kill, but it will greatly weaken the enemy. When the root has been underwater for a time, it releases a toxin,” Cuven answers. “I have to track down Darklily and let her know the plan has changed. We must find out what land

they’re going to take over next so that the water can be tainted.” “They won’t be able to taste that the water’s been poisoned?” I ask, tugging at the backpack straps. “Not if the root has been in the water for a day,” Cuven answers. “Which is why it’s important we find out the location of the land they want next.” He flicks an ear, his head raising slightly then lowering. “It’ll be risky, but if you get the chance, pick up whatever information you can from Xavier’s den.” “About the land they’re going to take.” “About anything,” Cuven says. Ryan taps the end of his bow against the ground. “Couldn’t we gather some of this root ourselves?” Cuven shakes his head. “It’ll take too long to locate and dig up. After you get the root, there’s a grove of short cactus on the land across a narrow stretch of ocean. There’ll be a field of unmoving clouds. Keeping the saltwater in sight, travel beneath them. Continue to follow the water until you reach ground that is rock. Then turn away from the water. A thin root of red stone should lead you in the right direction. If Dark or I are not there, wait somewhere hidden.” “Are you positive they have this root?” Ryan asks, gripping his bow tighter. Cuven flicks his tail irritably. “They’ve used it on our warriors, so yes.” His eyes lock onto mine. “Our training could save your life. Not all creatures on Pandorma are fighting this war, and you’re certain to cross paths with some of them. Travel quickly.” He dips his head then ducks back into the brush. Shiver’s nose wiggles then she sighs. “I didn’t understand most of that.” “How about you just that the root is white and smells like vanilla?” I suggest. She nods vigorously and starts walking.

“It’s not like I was looking forward to fighting Xavier, or even ready to, but I kind of wanted to prove I could do this.” “You can do this,” Ryan says. “This way I don’t have to worry about you. And we can do it together.” I smile. I like the sound of that.

The trek through the forest had been longer, but if this part of snow land is shorter, it’s yet to be proven true. We were still knee-deep in snow when the sun began to set so I shifted into a polar bear and constructed a den with Ryan’s help. It’s probably the sloppiest igloo ever, but it’s been hours and it hasn’t caved in on us yet. The packed snow above breathes down cold air, Ryan’s gentle breathing barely audible. If it weren’t for my heightened hearing, I don’t think I’d be able to hear him at all. Shiver is curled next to him, snoring softly. Our igloo isn’t very big, so Ryan’s body is only inches from mine. He took his coat—something he pulled out of the backpack like a magic trick because I didn’t know it was there—off so I wouldn’t have to lie on the cold snow. I smile thinking of how he had insisted he try out the igloo first so if it caved I wouldn’t be trapped. Who knew the heart was capable of melting, fluttering, and expanding all at once. Heat emanates from Ryan’s skin, and I want nothing more than to nestle against him. But for every couple that fell in love, I know very, very few that have stayed in love. Love dies out. I turn away from Ryan and press my hand into the cold snow. Cuven might’ve told me I don’t have to fight Xavier, but that didn’t stop my mind from dreaming up a battle between us. And instead of doing well like in Cuven’s training sessions, I die. Probably because Cuven said they could kill me within seconds. I sigh and roll onto my back, lacing my fingers across my stomach. There are so many ways simply sneaking into Xavier’s headquarters could go wrong. We could get caught at any point. What if I have to fight Xavier then? The snow’s cold breath weighs the igloo down more, making the space stuffy and cramped.

We made a small opening to let in fresh air, but I widen it to get out. The biting cold has a calming effect on my brain. I close my eyes. To the north is the faintest dab of light. Sunrise. Polar bear. I close my eyes and think then perform some of the moves Cuven taught me. I’m not going to die if I fight Xavier.

We set off as the sun is still rising, and we’ve traveled for some distance when I pick up the hushed gurgle of water. I call this to Ryan’s attention, and we stop. I dig away snow until my claws scrape ice. “If it’s a lake, we can go around,” I say hesitantly. It’s impossible to tell with the snow covering everything. Ryan jabs his sword down, and there’s a splintering thud. “Seems thick enough,” he says with a shrug. He walks a short distance onto the ice. Except for a few creaks, the ice is relatively silent. “Well, if it can hold you it can hold me,” I joke, back in human form. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.” I tip my head. “But you did.” Ryan laughs then says, “We should steer clear of the middle.” “Really?” “Yeah. It could be—” Ryan realizes that I’m being sarcastic and stops talking. He bends over, clumps up some snow. I’ve jumped out of the way before it has left his hand. Shiver squeals as it grazes across her back, leaving clumps on her fur. “Oops. Sorry, Shiver,” Ryan says.

“That’s cold!” she cries, hopping around. “Nice throw, but you forgot that I have the swiftness and flexibility of an animal. Which means—” A snowball strikes my shoulder, and snow sprays across my face. “Ryan! That was cold!” I grab a fistful of snow and throw it at him. It falls short and lands a few feet in front of him. “Didn’t Cuven teach you to throw better?” he taunts. Polar bear. I turn around and shovel snow at Ryan. He sputters before yelling, “All right, I surrender!” I stop digging—Lissa—then turn and give him a satisfied smirk. Wiping my hands I say, “Was that better?” “You had an unfair advantage,” he says, walking closer to me. “So do you. You have a stronger arm and better aim.” “So true,” Shiver agrees. “Thank you.” Ryan curls his arm to show his muscles, but the coat hinders me from seeing anything. I laugh. “Well, I’m sure you saw plenty of my muscle during our training sessions.” I frown, pretending to think, although I can conjure up a clear image of his arms when he was using his bow and arrows. “I’m sure I would have.” Wolf. “If I had at any point taken the time to observe your arm muscles.” Ryan snorts. “I don’t trust the ice. Let’s see if we can get around it.” And we do, but what we thought was a lake turns out to be part of a deep, wide river and the farther we walk, the thinner the ice is. Instead, we settle on a spot where the ice doesn’t creak and groan when Ryan slams his sword against it. He insists that I cross first. Lissa. The snow here is powdery and not so deep, and I kick it as I walk.

Halfway across, the ice crunches, and I slow. Seven more steps and it makes distinctive cracking noises. I move faster, exhaling relief when I’ve crossed. Shiver hops across next. Ryan moves a couple feet away from the path I took and makes his way over. “Lissa, catch.” He tosses his bow, the sword, the quiver, and the backpack. I catch the bow, but the backpack, sword, and quiver land in the snow. A few of the arrows fall out of the quiver, and when I reach for one, I spot the faint outline of a print. I lean over to examine it and frown. It looks like the print of a cat. A very large cat. I wonder— A sharp yell cuts off my thoughts. I spin around just as Ryan disappears into a hole in the ice. Shiver lets out a cry of distress and races over to the hole. My jaw drops, and for a split second, I’m frozen in place. I run toward the opening, Shiver scurrying away from it. Polar bear. I grab a breath as I dive into the opening, ice breaking around me. I blink rapidly until my vision clears. The river is so large I can’t see either side or the bottom, just swirling murky water. The current isn’t strong, and I let it carry me downstream while pressing forward with strong paddles. He couldn’t have gone far. Why can’t I see him? The river narrows until the rocky, branch-strewn bottom and silt-covered sides are visible. There! His jacket is snagged on a log wedged between two rocks. I furiously kick out toward him. Grabbing a mouthful of his coat in my jaws, I yank it away. Bubbles gush free when I see that Ryan isn’t in it. The coat swirls away with the current. No no no. Panic growing, I let the current carry me again, now taking care to avoid the

boulders jutting out of the riverbed. My lungs demand air. I can’t last much longer. Ryan! His leg is caught between two large rocks. Bubbles escape from his mouth, and he stops struggling to free himself. My own supply of air is rapidly dwindling. I catch myself on the boulder behind him then swim down between the two boulders. With all my strength, I shove my shoulder against the boulder. Come on. The rock sluggishly moves, and I push harder. Freed, the current tries to take Ryan, but I make a wild grab and my teeth latch onto his boot. I strike out for the shallow water. Holding Ryan’s shirt between my jaws, I place my back paws firmly on the bank and ram my shoulders into the ice. My lungs burn, and pinpricks fill the back of my eyes. I smack the ice again, then again. A satisfying crack reverberates above. I lug Ryan up halfway, gasping in a lungful of precious air before I enlarge the hole and lift myself out. I drag Ryan out of the water then shake out my fur. Lissa. “Ryan!” No response. No! I take in his painfully blue lips and pale skin. How cold was the water? My fur was so thick I barely felt a chill. But now, between my wet clothes and hair and no jacket, it’s frigid. Steadying my hands, I place them on his chest and pump three times, hoping I’m doing this correctly. “Ryan, wake up!” I bite my lip hard, drawing up my reserves of strength and telling myself to stay calm. I part his lips then pinch his nose and put my mouth around his. I breathe out, angling my eyes so I can make sure his chest rises.

It does. I put my hands on his chest again. Pump, pump, pump. Then two breaths then back to his chest. I lean down to give him another breath when he coughs up water. I roll him onto his side and wince as he sucks in air, a painful feeling I’ve felt before. “Ryan?” “Lissa!” Shiver yells fearfully. I stand, shielding my eyes against the sharp glint of sun off the snow. Far off, I spy her bouncing around. The snow is about as high as my knees, which means it’s well over her head. She’s so tiny she could quickly freeze. I have to go get her. I take a step in her direction, but Ryan coughs up more water. I look back at him. His eyes haven’t opened, and his body violently trembles. I press and rub my fingers against my forehead. I kneel beside him and vigorously run my hands up and down his arms. “Open your eyes. Look at me!” I grit my teeth and hit the snow. I look back to where I saw Shiver. She’s not bouncing around anymore so I can’t see her. I can’t leave Ryan. He might freeze to death. So could Shiver. But Ryan is in more danger. A good dose of guilt hits me in the stomach. Polar bear. “You’re not dying on me, Ryan.” “Shiver, I’m over here!” I yell while trying to maneuver Ryan onto my shoulders. I stick my nose in the air. Dirt. The edge of this winter land must be close. I drop my head and take a few deep breathes. This is going to be a tiring, cold run. “Hang in there, Ryan.” I start off at a trot and shout, “Shiver, if you can hear me stay where you are. I’ll come back!” I then run full speed, glad that my long legs make running in the deep snow easy. It can’t take more than five minutes to reach the edge of the winter land, but it still takes too long. The cold air is like small knives piercing my lungs every time I breathe in.

Breathing heavily, I take in my surroundings. Tufts of hardy grass have sprouted in random places, and stocky bushes hold fast to the ground like unmovable soldiers. What looks promising is a crumble of rocks, and I head toward those. They turn out to be next to a shallow cave, and I cautiously slide Ryan off my shoulders and onto the cold but dry ground. I stare numbly at his violently shivering body before firmly shaking my head. Heat. He needs heat. Lissa. I race around the bushes, snatching up all the dry frozen twigs I find. I suddenly stiffen and move my hair away from my ear. Shiver. I bite the inside of my cheek and hurry back to the cave. A hacking cough forces its way out of Ryan’s body. I fall on my knees and close my eyes. I don’t have a specific image of a dragon but hopefully a shady picture will do. Dragon. At first my body doesn’t move, as if it doesn’t know how to shape itself. But I focus harder, and slowly my body takes shape. I suck in a breath then let it out on the pile of sticks. Weak embers fall on the sticks, but they don’t light. I try again. Little flames flicker feebly before dying out. I try two more times, desperation building. I let out a massive roar of fury that causes the structure to tremble, and a tiny flame springs up. Yes! Lissa. I bend over and gently blow on the flame. It catches on one of the branches. I move Ryan’s body closer to the pile of sticks. Now to get Shiver, and hopefully when I get back, the rest of the branches will have caught fire and given Ryan some warmth. Wolf. As I race back through the snow, I note the sky has changed. Heavy, gray clouds are rolling in, and within minutes, thick snowflakes are falling. I breathe in deeply, but the wind has chased away any smells. How far away had she been? I shove my nose into the cold snow, but this doesn’t tell me anything.

“Shiver!” I can’t lose her. She couldn’t be much farther. At first, there’s no answer, but when I call again, there’s a distant squeak. Keeping my head low, I walk quickly, calling out twice more until I find her. She’s huddled beneath Ryan’s weapons and the backpack, which she’s stacked together. “Lis!” She darts toward me. “I was afraid you left me.” Lissa. I fall to my knees and squeeze her to my chest. She’s trembling as violently as Ryan, and guilt wrenches my stomach. “I wouldn’t leave you.” I shouldn’t have left you. “I’m so sorry.” I swallow hard. Tears form at the corners of my eyes but they freeze without falling. Her little claws dig into my skin, and her tail half circles my waist. “I thought the river took you like the horrid giant monster that took my mom. I—I heard your voice, but then you didn’t come.” I hug her even tighter. “I’m sorry. I had to get Ryan out of the snow, but I would never leave you behind.” She works her way up to the crook of my neck. “I’m so glad I have you.” “And I you.” I give her one last squeeze then set her down. I shift into a wolf and loop the quiver and bow around my neck while I carry the sword and backpack in my mouth. Shiver climbs up to my shoulders and tries to burrow herself deep into my fur, which has frozen in spots. I run back to the cave, chilled to the bone when my legs finally stumble out of the snow. Wolves must not be designed for these kinds of freezing temperatures. As I shed everything at the back of the cave, Shiver solemnly stares at Ryan. “Will he be okay?” “Of course.” He can’t not be. I’m happy to see the fire has caught on to the rest of the branches, and I head out for more sticks. I throw them on the fire then place myself by Ryan. I touch his arm. Cold and he’s still shivering. I take in his wet clothing and purse my lips.

Sucking in a breath, I grab the corners of Ryan’s shirt. I hesitate then lift his arms and take his shirt off. As I wring Ryan’s shirt out, Shiver drapes herself over his neck. “Warm up, Ryan,” she whispers. This time, my tears don’t freeze. I shake my head and angrily brush my eyes. He’s going to be fine. I drape his shirt over a rock and move the rock near the fire. Wolf. I try to keep my eyes averted . . . still, they fall on a five-inch scar on his stomach. It’s long since healed, but it looks like it would’ve been painful at the time. I tear my eyes away and carefully lay as much of myself as I can on top of him. We’re not far from the winter land and an eerie, blustery wind whistles around the outcrop, bringing with it little flurries of snow. Hopefully the fire doesn’t go out, but if it does I should be able to start it again. I listen to Ryan’s shallow breathing. Don’t go. You can’t, I plead, my eyes taking in his deathly pale boyish face.

I understand now when Dark told me that no creature really sleeps on Pandorma. I doze off and on, and every little noise wakes me. As soon as I catch even the tiniest ray of light, I can’t fall asleep again—like now. I roll toward Ryan, fully clothed the moment his shirt had dried. Cautiously, I run my hand down his face, ready to jerk back if he wakes. His skin isn’t so cold anymore, but it’s soft. Ryan slightly turns toward me, and I yank my hand away. He frowns in confusion before recognition settles in his eyes. He smiles and murmurs something. I watch anxiously as he gazes around. “I fell through the ice,” he mumbles. “Yes, but you’re fine now.”

Ryan whispers something I can’t make out. Then his eyes flutter closed again, and soon he is back asleep. I panic and vigilantly watch his chest rise and fall several times. When I’m positive he isn’t going to die on me, I sigh and move away. “How come he won’t stay awake?” Shiver asks. “His body is still recovering from the cold shock. That’s all,” I answer simply. I bite my lip. I wish he would wake up. I want to ask him if he’s warm enough, give him something to eat. Hours , and then two days. All Ryan does is sleep, and I have to repeatedly tell myself things are going to be okay. But Dark said not to stay in one place too long. I pace. Will us being here throw off the mission? We have to get that root before a battle takes place. I find Shiver watching me, worried, and stop pacing. She’s been unusually quiet. I try to cheer her up, but it only takes one look at Ryan for her to get downcast again. I go out and hunt five short times—I’m unwilling to leave Ryan unattended for long—instructing Shiver to add sticks from the pile we collected if it starts to die. Finally, on my last try, I’m able to hunt down a lost caribou. Chasing and killing that thing is an experience I’ll never forget. Part of me hopes I’ll never have to repeat it, but I know I will eventually. I never would have had the motivation to kill the thing if I hadn’t thought of Ryan waking up starving and me having nothing to feed him. Instead of dragging the whole thing back—I’m afraid of drawing predators—I tear off hunks of meat, washing as much blood off as I could with water from a nearby creek, then haul it back. I cook the meat, even though I’m afraid that the smell of it roasting will attract unwanted attention. I waft the smell toward Ryan, hoping to draw him out of his slumber. Nope. A few times Ryan cries out in his sleep, causing my heart to race each time. At other times, he tosses and turns as if fighting off the world, and I attempt to wake him by calling his name or shaking him but it doesn’t work. So I wait for him to calm then huddle close, as if I can channel my desire to comfort him through my presence. Finally, Ryan draws in a deep breath, and I twist around. He stiffly sits up, his gaze roving around before resting on me. A warm wave of relief pulls the

corners of my mouth up, and I scoot closer to him. “Thank you,” he says, his eyes holding an even greater amount of sincerity than his voice. “You would’ve done the same.” “I’m so glad you’re okay, Ryan! Lis and I were very worried about you. You should’ve seen her dive into the water. She watched over you very carefully,” Shiver says proudly, her cloud of sadness dissipating. “Uhm, are you hungry?” I ask, reaching for the backpack and unzipping it. In answer, Ryan’s stomach growls. Smiling, he answers, “Very. How long was I asleep?” I hand him four strips of meat. “Today would make three days.” I made sure the meat didn’t get rock hard, but it’s still cold so I offer, “Do you want me to warm the meat up first?” He shakes his head. The second the food reaches his mouth, he eats it ravenously. Laughing, I hand him three more pieces, but he halfheartedly pushes my hand away. “We need to make the food last as long as possible,” he says although he’s practically drooling for more. I hand them back, reasoning, “You need to eat, get your strength back. Besides, we’ll have to get more food at some point.” I don’t have to say anymore. He wolfs it down. I give him time, though not much, to rest after he’s eaten before asking, “Are you up for some walking?” Ryan runs his hand over his head a couple times, and when he removes his hand, I giggle. “What?” he asks.

“You just made your hair stick up all over.” He grins and runs a hand through it again. “Better?” “Um, no.” I laugh. I reach out, intending to fix it, but stop myself midway. He’s not asleep anymore, a part of me warns. Something es through Ryan’s eyes, and he glances at my lips. My stomach flipflops. His eyes travel back up to mine, and his weight shifts forward slightly. I drop my hand. “We should get moving.” I’m on my feet before the words are out, grabbing the backpack and handing Ryan his quiver. He stares at me for a second then stands and takes the quiver. “Which way?” he asks. Inhaling deeply, I pick up the faint smell of forest. I turn the scent of the forest over and over in my mind. It smells strange and not in a good way. Instinct warns that the forest could possibly be dangerous. But it also smells like warmth so I say, “Let’s head this way.” As we walk, words spill out of me. And they won’t stop. It could be because I haven’t had anyone to talk to for two days or because I’m so happy Ryan’s okay. But it’s to keep my mind from replaying and overanalyzing what could’ve happened. If he really was going to kiss me. I’m comparing dance movies when we reach the forest. The heat rolls off the forest in thick waves, and it has an alluring golden shade to it. Beautiful green leaves rustle lazily. “Wait,” Shiver says suddenly. We stop and look down at her. Hesitantly she says, “I don’t think we should go in there.” Ryan looks at me then down at Shiver. “How come?” She takes a few steps back. “My mom told me about places like this. The

creatures are nasty. They play tricks with your mind to lure you in. Can’t we go around? Please?” “It does smell a little off,” I agree reluctantly. Shiver sticks very close to me as we go around the forest. At one point, I hear laughter that resembles a hyena’s but creepier. I look at the others, but they don’t act like they heard anything. I think I glimpse an ugly creature with red eyes, but it’s shrouded in mist and hard to make out. It disappears. Whatever it is must be bound to the forest. Nothing has tried to attack us yet. I scan the field we’re walking through, even if there’s no point. I’m not picking up any traces of other animals, just small critters and cheerful songbirds. A part of me is disappointed. I want to put Cuven’s training to use, prove that I’m capable. Instead, I tell myself to relax and let Shiver’s happy chatter take over filling the silence.

Chapter 12

The smell of meat coaxes me out of my dreams. Dim sunlight pools on the dirt floor and on my eyes. I crawl out from under the vines that were our shelter for the night. A small fire burns a few feet away. Three strips of meat—a stick going through them—are hanging from crudely made posts placed beside the fire. The last of the meat. I’ll have to hunt again soon. I chew the inside of my lip. “You’re up finally. And I thought I was the tired one.” My head snaps around at Ryan’s voice. He carries a bundle of dry sticks. “I don’t think I’ve slept so well in days. And you got a fire going,” I say as I take some of the sticks from him and place them near the fire, adding several. “I have a few hidden talents,” he responds. Shiver bounces out from behind him, carrying a few sticks of her own. She spits them out on the fire and chirps, “I thought you were going to sleep all day.” “You weren’t asleep long,” Ryan counters. “Shiver just woke up really early and then she woke me up by throwing dirt on my face. I’m thinking it was revenge for grazing her with that snowball.” “It was an accident! I was hungry and looking for food,” Shiver squeaks apologetically. Ryan laughs. “I know. I’m just teasing.” “Do you think this is warm enough?” I ask, my stomach growling. “Should be.” He hands Shiver a piece, which she sniffs vigorously, and then hands one to me. Ravenous, I bite into the meat. After I’ve taken several more bites, I look around. This jungle is the noisiest place we’ve been in by far. Birds are cawing constantly, and monkeys screech. I pick out frogs croaking too.

We finish off our food. Then I wait as Ryan meticulously puts out the fire and clears away any visible sign we’d been here at all. “We still heading north?” he asks. “Yes.” I think. “I’m glad you know where we’re going. Every time I try to go in a straight line, I always end up going in a circle,” Shiver says. We push our way through the numerous plants and dangling moss-covered vines. Every so often there’s a shuffling of branches overhead as a monkey jumps from one branch to another. An hour later, my shirt is drenched with sweat. Ryan sits on a fallen tree and starts wringing his shirt out. He mutters something then just pulls his shirt off and twists it. I look away and plop down next to him, the soft sponge-like bark squishing. Hey, that reminds me, what’s that scar on your stomach? I lean on my knees. I can’t ask—he doesn’t even know I took his shirt off. What could’ve happened to cause such a wound? And how long ago did it happen? “What are the chances of us running into a tiger?” Ryan asks. I startle, alarm gushing through my stomach as if I was caught doing something wrong. I clear my throat and inhale deeply, but I can’t pick up anything that warns of a predator. “I think we’re fine.” I bunch up my hair and fan my neck. “I might be able to hear it before it’s on us.” “Might? That’s reassuring.” “Cats are very silent even when they’re not stalking their prey. There’s only so much I can hear.” I glance around the thick foliage, my eyes slowing when they reach him. I mentally relax when I see his shirt is back on. “Think we’ll be out of here by night?” he asks. I breathe in again, but without a breeze, it’s impossible for me to tell. “Probably not but I sure hope so.”

I gratefully stop at the edge of an empty riverbed and plop down. We’re not getting out of this jungle before dark. It’s difficult to tell how late it is, but I’d guess there’s an hour or less of sun left. “If I shift, we’d probably be safe to keep traveling.” Shruff, shruff. Without getting up, I twist around. Ryan’s weapons lay on the ground—he must be behind that thicket of leaves. Shruff. “What are you doing?” I ask. “I’ll sit guard first while you sleep.” He ducks under a loop of vines. “We’ll switch halfway through the night.” “Stay here? If anything decides to attack us, we’re at a disadvantage.” You’re at a disadvantage. Ryan places a hand over his heart. “Ah, your trust in me is so little. We’ll be fine. I didn’t have all those lessons with Cuven for nothing.” He beckons me to come over. “Besides, out of all the things in the forest, what are the chances it will single us out?” “That’s what everyone thinks,” I mutter. I duck under the vines. He’s smashed down the plants in a small circle. An awfully small circle. Reluctantly, I lie in the clearing and gaze up. Nothing but endless treetops laden with leaves turned orange by the setting sun. Shiver yawns and curls up close by. A strange howl fills the air, and I bolt up. “What was that?” The strange sound repeats. “Howler monkey. I the first time I heard it—it sounded like something straight out of a horror movie,” Ryan says. “You can say that again.” I slap at a bug that lands on my arm then shoo another away from my ear. I roll over so one ear is pressed to the earth, and I cover the other one with my arm. There goes that howler monkey again. This time the sound is more aggressive—and closer. This is going to be a long night. And I’m not tired at all.

“What are you thinking about?” Ryan asks. I roll onto my back again. “As much as I don’t like the cold, it was so much more peaceful. What’s going through your head?” When the silence stretches out, I roll onto my side. Shadows mask his face, making it unreadable. “My mom. My dad and I have always lived in a city, but here, every night there’s a sea of stars. They remind me of her. She loved the stars.” He picks up a leaf and starts ripping it into thin pieces. “I her telling me once that stars are people’s souls. That once you die you became a star so you can provide light in darkness, watch over those you left because, even though you’re gone, you’re still here. She said that the weaker stars were evil people and the brightest ones were the good people. Obviously that’s not true but . . .” He shrugs. I look back up at the dizzyingly high trees. This is the first time Ryan has brought up his mom. The way he talks makes it sound like she died. The thought of asking is an uncomfortable one. The words in my head rarely make it out the way they’re supposed to, in expression or form. I take the safer route. “It’s not ridiculous. It’s nice to have something to believe in. I think we all need that. It can provide comfort or give us something to hang on to.” I listen to Shiver’s breathing to make sure she’s asleep then hesitantly say, “Ryan?” “Yeah?” I’m not sure how to go on, and he turns to face me. “After you fell through the ice . . . I took off your shirt to dry it, and well, I saw that scar. I don’t want to be nosy, but . . . what happened?” I ask softly. He drops his head then rolls it to the side. “My dad happened. He’s a drunk. Usually an angry or aggressive one, sometimes both. I was just in the wrong place.” “That’s awful.” Before I can talk myself out of it, I reach out and place my hand over his fingers. Our skin touching reminds me of the space between magnets, channeling a sense

of connection through my veins, of this being right. But how can I trust something I’ve never felt before? I don’t want to risk jumping to conclusions. Ryan studies our hands then his eyes search mine. Does he feel anything at all for me? I usually pick up hints of his emotions, but right now my senses might as well be turned off. His fingers curl around mine, drawing those magnets closer together. Or maybe it’s just one magnet. “That’s why I was at your house that night. My dad and I—we got into a pretty bad fight. Normally, I’d stay in the truck, but I thought of you and I thought, well, . . . I’d rather be around you.” The air sticks in my lungs. He’d rather be around me? What did that mean? My heart starts to race. I look past Ryan, into the simplicity of the darkness. I don’t know what to think. There are too many thoughts. I wish I could turn my brain off. I find his eyes boring into mine, as if the intensity of his gaze can reveal what I’m thinking. I open my mouth—to say what exactly, I’m not sure, but no words come out anyway. The part of me that doesn’t trust love or feelings snaps back hard. Love can die out. I don’t want to risk taking that leap and finding I’m wrong. I’d rather swim with the mermaid. I halfheartedly tug my hand back, but he holds onto it. I roll over to face the sky. “And that’s why you said you wouldn’t be missed.” “He’ll miss the money I brought home that kept him alive,” he says, his voice hard, but pain lines his face. My heart twists, and I sit up, moving closer to him. His eyes remain fixed on the ground. Sorry doesn’t feel like the right thing to say, so instead I change the subject. “So I get why you were at my house, but why did you come with me? You knew

there’d be danger before we even jumped through the portal.” He brings one knee up, resting an arm on it, but doesn’t say anything. “I was practically still a stranger then, but you jumped through that portal without a second thought.” Ryan rubs his thumb over my knuckle. “I had two choices: I could either go back home to my dad where I was miserable or leave with you. Then when I saw that Trevor was going, how could I not go?” I smile. Now he moves closer to me. “I’m joking. I don’t know what made me jump. I just knew I couldn’t let you leave without me.” There he goes again. Don’t move away, I order myself, but it didn’t matter how much part of me wanted to find out what could be between us. My fears were the sharp snap of a rubber band. I put some space between us and lay back down. “Well, I’m glad you came,” I say with decided nonchalance. After a pause he says, “Me too.” His thumb continues to rub my knuckle, and eventually this lulls me to sleep.

I lose track of the days and time as miles of land beneath our feet. We run across animals, both predator and prey, but their numbers don’t seem as large as I would expect, especially on a planet without people to kill species off. Most animals we do come across, we give a cautious, wide berth. We fall into a nightly routine, depending on where we are. If a forest or jungle or any place cramped with vegetation, I’ll go out and hunt, if needed, while he starts a fire. It turns out Ryan is very good at getting a fire started. I’ll then stand guard while he guts the animal, a part I can’t stomach. We’ll roast all the meat

before putting the fire out. I never knew so much talking and good-natured bickering could exist without running out of things to say. The subject of parents is skirted around, but little else is off limits. Though some conversations I can’t think about too deeply, like when he mentions it’s strange to think our food could talk before it was slaughtered. I squeeze my eyes shut tight and hold up my hands. “It runs. I chase. The day my prey screams or pleads to live, I go vegan.” Ryan finds this funny but drops the subject. We don’t talk as much if Shiver is asleep. We just let the fire crackle and nature rustle. I don’t mind. Being near him is enough—and he is always sure to be close. I’ve grown closer to him than I ever have to anyone. But I still hold back, where Ryan doesn’t. There’ve been enough hints and signals for even my skeptical side to it he feels something for me. But at any opportunity for our friendship to grow into something more, I balk. I want to be his and him to be mine with an aching desire. But there’s always the incessant question of what if it doesn’t last? I want a love that will last a lifetime, but the only way to find out if that’ll happen is if I let him in. And I can’t seem to get out of my own way. I trust him with my life. It shouldn’t be so difficult to trust him with my heart.

“I think we should go that way,” Ryan says, pointing in the general direction of northeast. The air is heavy with the aroma of ripe apples, the overripe ones dropping unceremoniously around us, causing me to frequently duck. We’d paused in an apple orchard for a snack and ended up disagreeing on which way to continue. I shake my head. “We should go this way”—I point more west—“straight.” That direction looks straight to me. Plus it feels like the right way.

“How do you know that way is straight?” I’m about to say, “Because I do,” but Ryan keeps talking. “I think if we go that way we’d be heading west, but if we go in that direction, we’ll keep on track.” I put one hand to my hip and tap my fingers of my other hand against my thigh. Why is he so insistent we go his way? An apple plummets to the ground inches from my head. He’s let me lead without question up until now. I narrow my eyes. What changed? Ryan picks up an apple, rubs it on his shirt until it gleams, and then takes a bite. “What if there are worms in that?” I ask. He takes another bite. “Extra protein.” “Gross.” I turn away from him, looking between my direction and his. I tilt my head at a distinctive crunching sound. A copper stallion and his small herd of females graze near the edge of the orchard, munching on fallen apples. A colt, its coat a mix of copper and blond, watches me curiously. I draw my gaze away from the horses, and it comes to rest on Ryan, who is also watching me. “Shiver, what do you think?” I ask. She’s been snuffling around in the grass, but her head jerks up at her name. She sticks her nose in the air and sniffs dramatically. “I really have no idea where we are,” she its. “Or where we’re going.” I grumble as a bowl-sized apple hits my head. I rub the spot. That hurt. I want to move closer to Ryan since all the apples appear to be avoiding his head. Instead, I sit at the base of a tree a couple feet away from him. Maybe it’ll be safer here. I pinch the edge of my lip. “Why that way?” Ryan sits cross-legged next to me, putting the usual bare minimum of space between us. I bet he knows this makes my heart skip a beat and the nerves on my skin go haywire. For all I know, it could be a distraction tactic. How annoying. I angle my body away from him.

“Because I think we need to head northeast. Generally speaking,” he says. I press my cheek to my fist and pick at the grass. “Why are you doubting me now?” Ryan sighs. “I’m not. Why are you doubting me?” “Don’t turn this around,” I mumble, crossing my ankles and leaning back against the tree. I cross my arms over my stomach, frowning. I thought I’d been leading, but had Ryan actually been guiding us? Now that I think about it, it had been Ryan who’d chosen every invisible pathway we’d taken. He’d veer away from me in one direction or the other, and of course I followed, not even realizing he was changing our course. I shake my head. Whoever had been leading before, that didn’t matter now. I change tactics. “Come on, Ryan. You always get to pick.” Ryan chuckles then lays on his back. Neatly catching a falling apple, he polishes it and takes a bite. “All right, we’ll go your way. But I’m telling you, that’s not the right way.” “How can you be so sure your way is the right way?” “I’ve had lots of practice finding my way around new places. Plus Darklily gave me some tips on navigating here.” Frowning, I lean over him. “How come she didn’t give me any tips?” He shrugs. “It was while we were waiting for you to find the stones.” I purse my lips and pull back, turning my attention to the horses again. They keep a respectful distance but stay within the apple orchard. They are gorgeous. Their coats are glossy, their manes and tails long and flowing. Like the other animals here, they’re also huge, easily twice the size of an Earth horse. I wonder how fast they are. Ryan’s arm is thrown over his eyes. I nudge him. “Let’s go.”

He mumbles something about needing a nap, and I prod him again before standing. Reluctantly, he follows as I head in the direction I picked. The apple trees are taken over by pines and broadleaves, and the land slopes up and down until it becomes twisting ravines. After scaling our fifth incline we abandon this route and alter our course. The ridge widens and eventually we leave the ravines behind. The trees thin out and more sunlight pours through the foliage. We move around brush and thorny vines until they become a thick wall of growth. Opposite that, through the trees, is a long strip of grass that melts into sandy shoreline. “I think I smell chocolate,” I say. “Of course you do. Come on, let’s walk on the beach.” I’m going to object because if that is chocolate I smell, it is demanding to be investigated and possibly eaten. But Ryan is already walking away. Catch up to Ryan or follow that smell? I take a step in the direction of the chocolate smell. It’s been too long since I’ve eaten something sweet. “Lissa!” He’s already cleared the trees. Ryan cups his hands to his mouth and yells, “Race you!” then turns and runs. I make a noise of exasperation. He knows I won’t turn down a challenge. I smile. He also knows that I don’t always play by the rules. Cheetah. Ryan shouts something as I flash past him. Shiver squeals with excitement and tries to run faster. My paws sink into sand, and salty water rushes at me. I envision the world beneath the waves. A dolphin would be perfect to go exploring. A wave soaks me, and I skid to a halt. I move away from the water’s grasp and shake off. Lissa. “I win!” I exclaim, letting out a victory jump. “No fair,” Ryan says when he’s caught up. “No rules,” I tease then set off down the beach. I pick up the numerous, exotic shells and examine them then let Shiver inspect them before putting them in the

backpack. Ryan walks by my side, I assume encumbered by his thoughts because of his silence. My eyes travel along the sand dunes and tussocks of grass. I spy something unusual and veer toward it. I crouch at the edge of what looks to be an old fire pit, a large one at that. Burnt sticks are scattered about, a few further away. The ground has been dug down about a foot and a half, grass growing through the tent of charred branches. Ryan ambles over and kneels beside me. “Trevor?” “No.” I finger one of the branches. It crumbles. “Then who?” Shiver fluffs out her fur. “Maybe it was dragons!” I stand back up. “I don’t know. The scents of whatever or whoever did this are long gone. Erased by hundreds of other scents,” I clarify when he looks like he’s going to ask why. He kicks around debris like he’s looking for something. I tuck my hands behind my back and stare at the pit. This looks more like it was done by people, not dragons. But who? I strongly doubt it was Xavier or Medusa. If they need anything, I bet their body cries out to be in another form, just like mine does. Except that means there might be other people on Pandorma besides the five of us. But who? A person stumbling onto a portal probably happens once every century. I pull my hair to one side and twist it around. Or maybe it wasn’t people. Maybe it was some weird creature like that mermaid. “Let’s keep moving,” Ryan says. “Kay.” I reluctantly follow him away from the pit. Hours later, a wall of jagged cliffs block our path. Columns and outcrops make it difficult to judge it properly, but from what I can see, this should be easy to scale. The cliffs are crumbled and not steep, with an abundance of small plateaus, caves, and footholds.

“We’d better tackle this in the morning,” Ryan says. “These cliffs look like they stretch pretty high, and we don’t want to be climbing in the dark.” “It’s a good thing you’re here. I definitely would’ve attempted to climb these.” Ryan shakes his head, amused. “You’d be fine on your own, but Shiver and I are at a disadvantage.” He finds a dip in the ground in a small forest bordering the beach. Shiver nestles between two exposed roots. I set the backpack near Ryan’s sword and quiver then stretch. I run a hand through the hair at the back of my head, fingering the strands. It was a strange adjustment not being able to wash anymore. The first couple weeks were almost a nightmare, not because my hair was crazy oily and I was petrified of being stinky, but because Ryan was there to witness it. I was pleasantly surprised when my hair finally became accustomed to no soap and returned to normal and I wasn’t smelly by people standards. It did require rinsing on a regular basis though. I should probably bathe in the ocean in the morning. My eyes drift towards Ryan, and I find him watching me. “What?” I ask, letting my hand fall. “The moon is pretty bright tonight.” The moon is a little over half full. “Yes, it is.” “Want to go for a walk?” “We can’t leave Shiver,” I object. My lips part in silent protest as Ryan squats next to Shiver, tells the sleepy coati we’re going for a walk, not to move from this spot, and that we’ll be back soon. He takes my hand, and my legs woodenly follow. “I really don’t want to leave her,” I say, looking back worriedly. I pull at my shirt with my free hand. I told her back in the snow land that I’d never leave her. “She’ll be fine. I never get to have you to myself.” He playfully bumps my shoulder, and I smile, though my breathing picks up. A tornado of anticipation

and unease hits me in the stomach. Don’t freak out. Something my heart craved shouldn’t make my body tremble with misgiving. So what if he changes his mind when we get home or even five years from now? Being with him for even a short time should be worth any heartbreak in the end—if there is heartbreak. Maybe we’d never break up, but then again, there are other guys beside him. I take my hand from his to tuck my hair behind my ears. “Well, you’re not missing out,” I joke and look out at the ocean. Ryan stares off to the side, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Maybe we’re both missing out.” I want to say something witty or something that will steer the conversation to a safer topic. But I also want to let this play out. “On each other?” “Something like that.” He slows, pauses, his shoulders hunching forward then relaxing. “We’ve been traveling over two weeks now, and we’ve been lucky so far not to have run into danger.” “Yeah, aside from you falling into the river and nearly freezing to death.” He releases a short laugh. “What I’m trying to say is”—he scratches the back of his head—“when I’m with you, I don’t feel how I’ve ever felt before. I don’t know how to explain it. It’s just . . .” His eyes jump between mine, the hope and ache behind them resoundingly familiar. Me either. The words dance on the tip of my tongue—just two words to turn our friendship into something more. The space between us holds its breath, suspending time. Just say it! I take a step back. I can’t. Ryan looks away. “Why do you do this? You pull me close with one arm then push me away with the other.” He doesn’t sound angry, more confused, worn from restraining his own feelings maybe? I fold one arm over my stomach and rest my elbow on it. I bite my thumbnail, play with my lips.

“I can’t figure out if you feel the way I do or not,” he says. “It’s driving me crazy being close to you but keeping my distance.” And it tears me apart, wanting but fearing it won’t last. “I like how things are. What if we, if we got together—what if things went wrong?” I don’t want to lose you. Ryan reaches out to tuck back a wayward strand of my hair, twirling it around his finger once before putting it in place. “Every relationship has something. It can’t be perfect. I think it’s worth the risk.” “I do too. Just . . .” All I can think of are my parents—of Trevor. Of a memory I’d buried so deep under brick and mortar I didn’t think I’d ever have to acknowledge it again. “Just not right now,” he finishes when I don’t, his eyes drifting between mine. Something like that. Ryan takes first watch, and I wordlessly lie near Shiver and work on controlling my breathing, but the panic and dejection won’t go away. My fourteenth birthday wasn’t anything special. There was no present from Mom, but by then I’d long rejected her dream of turning into her mini-me. Dad promised to take me out to dinner, but it was Trevor’s gift that made the day better. My fourteen-year-old heart was touched by theme park tickets and Trevor’s planned day of fun to go along with it. My perspective of him started to flipflop after that, and I noticed how nice his eyes were, how often they were on me. With rain forecast for the next week and our theme park day delayed, I had plenty of time to dwell on these new feelings and be self-conscious around Trevor. I took note of how he treated other girls then compared it to how he treated me. He was still learning to drive, so his mom took the enger seat but left to do her own thing once we were dropped off. Blinded by my feelings, every gesture had a new meaning, and by night I was convinced he saw me differently too.

I pull my legs to my chest and press my forehead against the dirt, but Trevor’s words can’t be forgotten, his amused but patronizing laugh. “You’re like my little sister, Lissa. You’re only fourteen. You’re not ready to date. You don’t know what love is.” He had turned sixteen only five months before. “How do you know? You’re trying to date,” I argued. Another laugh, which made my face flame with anger more than embarrassment. “I’ve watched you. You don’t treat me like those girls you try to impress!” His face lost its laughter, and he shoved his hands into his pockets. Trevor rarely looked embarrassed, so I knew that pinched face well. “It’s because you’re like my sister. You’re my best friend, Lissa. I couldn’t”—he cleared his throat —“love you like that.” I avoided him after that. I couldn’t look at him without embarrassment heating my body and regret sticking in my throat. But Dad had started to pull out of life, and Trevor was the last person I was close to. I needed him, so I went back to him. He pretended it never happened. So I did too.

Chapter 13

When I wake in the morning, I find myself alone. I scramble up and out of the dip, frantically looking around. Ryan’s scent is stale. He hasn’t been here for a while. I quickly follow his fast-fading scent trail, panic building, only to find him throwing objects into the ocean, which is shimmering with daybreak light. He picks up a shell and hurls it a good distance. He kicks the sand. Does this have to do with last night? I hesitate. He’d seemed despondent as we walked back to our sleeping place but not upset or angry. I clench one hand into a fist and pound it once against my side. Why did I have to let an ancient memory and fear get in the way of something I want? I should’ve let him in last night. Maybe it’s not too late to change that. Shiver is watching him from a distance, and I pause by her. “He’s been at it for a while.” She tips her head. “I’m not sure what he’s doing. He’s upset though,” she says sadly. “Are you going to talk to him?” “Yes.” I take a deep breath. My insides skitter, begging me to reconsider. I shake my head. I’m doing this. A few feet away, I suck in another breath. What if he’s changed his mind? There’s only one way to find out. “Ryan?” His name tiptoes off my tongue. He sighs, runs his hands through his hair, and sits down heavily. I sit but remain tense, ready to leave should he ask. When he doesn’t say anything, I pull my ankles close, relaxing my shoulders. Ryan picks up handfuls of sand, sifting it through his fingers, watching it fall. He picks up a tiny seashell and turns it over and over. “You’re right. Maybe now isn’t a good time for us. Anything could happen, and we can’t afford to let our

guard down.” His eyes land on me. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.” The words tumble out as if they knew I wouldn’t follow through with what I’d intended. His eyes flick away, and my heart deflates. Blinking, I trace my eyes down the length of the beach. The light peeking over the trees has grown considerably stronger, the sun shining its rays on the yawning landscape. Behind us are shadows where the light hasn’t yet reached. Ryan tosses the small seashell, blowing out a breath. “Something else on your mind?” I ask. He shakes his head. “I hate this—feeling so d—” He grits his teeth. “Useless.” I nearly laugh. “Ryan. You’re far from useless.” How could he even think such a thing? Clearly he does though, staring at the sand with a scowl. “Seriously, if it weren’t for you, I’d be living off fruit and possibly plants. I need you to do all the dirty work that’s involved with catching your own meal.” I earn a small, amused smile, but his head remains down. I cup his chin and force him to look at me. “You’re not useless.” I pull in a breath. “I need you.” His eyes turn a shade darker as they lock with mine. I changed my mind. Now would be a good time. He takes my hand away, and I’m sure I’ll out from once again exhaling only to hold another breath. I don’t get to find out how he feels about my statement. “Did you make him happy again?” Shiver chirps. Ryan clears his throat, and I take back my hand. Perfect timing, Shiver.

I brush off my jeans, turning toward the sun and mentally labeling scents carried in with each breath. Not much aside from ocean and plants. “She did,” he says. “At some point, your sword and archery skills will be in need too,” I add. His ghost of a smile disappears. “Yeah, maybe.” We retrace our steps back to the depression to retrieve his weapons and the backpack then head for the cliffs. Before I can ask Shiver if she needs any help, she hops onto a small ledge. Wiggling her haunches, she pounces onto another one. I dig my fingers into a cleft and heave myself up. Ryan stays a few feet below. I imagine jumping from outcrop to outcrop, the tingles of energy going up and down my body encouraging the idea. I’m so glad Trevor isn’t with us. He would’ve dared me to jump, and both of us would’ve possibly ended up with broken necks. Ryan is suddenly by my side. “Don’t do anything stupid.” “I wasn’t going to,” I say defensively. I climb higher, little bits of rock and dirt crumbling beneath my fingers. I heave myself onto a small outcrop. There’s a larger shelf about four feet up. I bite my lip. “Lissa,” Ryan cautions. He’s several feet to my right, giving me an onishing look. “Why don’t you just fly up so I don’t have to worry about you falling.” “I’d rather climb, get my stretch in for the day,” I joke. “Even if Lis did fall, she’d catch herself,” Shiver says. “Thank you, Shiver.” Ryan sighs. Dislodged stones clatter down the cliffs, and I listen to the varying sounds they make to keep my mind off other things but grow bored of this. Irritatingly, Ryan seems to have a knack for knowing when I’m up to something, just like Dad. Twice he’s caught me before I can test how far my human skills extend. I know my endurance has improved, but I’ve yet to find out if my strength and jumping skills have increased.

“I know I can make it. You don’t have to worry,” I complain after the second time. “I worry,” Ryan mutters, and I snort in amusement. I soon fall deep into concentration because Ryan won’t say much beyond a single word and it leaves me to my own thoughts. I think Shiver is singing a little song to herself, but I can’t make out the words because she’s also panting. It’s been a while since I’ve seen a movie. How long have we been on Pandorma? It’s been a few weeks—a month? It can’t be more than that. I wonder what new movies have come out. Probably nothing I’d want to watch, but there was a movie theater a block away from my summer job, and I made it a habit to be nosy and see what’s playing. I mentally play an episode of I Love Lucy, my brain skipping between scenes. Something slams into my back, shoving my face against stone, crunching my teeth together. I shout as I lose my footing and fall to a ledge below. “Are you okay?” Ryan calls fearfully. “Yeah, I’m all right.” I stand and massage the shoulder and hip I landed on. Some of those beautiful shells probably broke though. “See, that’s exactly why I was telling you to be careful.” “What?” I cry, incredulous. I search the area above, which is devoid of the thing that jumped me. A boulder could’ve hit me, but that doesn’t make sense. It’d have to have been thrown, and I didn’t hear it crash to the ground. I sigh and start to make up the ground I lost. Something slithers at the corner of my vision. I whip my head in that direction but see nothing. A peculiar scent drifts by, and a warning flag springs up at the back of my mind. I slide off the backpack and shove half of it into a crevice. “Ryan?” I say. He grunts.

“I think there’s something—” A cat-like screech stiffens my spine, and the next second something barrels into my side. This time, there isn’t a ledge breaking my fall. Eagle. I right myself and land on a rock. If I were human, I’m sure my mouth would be hanging open and my eyes huge. The creature that attacked is like nothing I’ve ever seen before. It’s body and head are like a lion’s, but its legs are shorter, more muscular and its thick tail ends in a spade-like shape. It’s light gray, bat-like wings fan out. The creature’s fat nails dig into the rock face as it hangs upside down. Its black eyes fasten on me, its forked tongue flicking in and out. I shake my head. Mountain lion. I spring at the creature. It flits to the side, and I crash into stone. Ouch. I slide down onto a ledge. There’s a low hiss to the air. Roughly twenty of the creatures, their short fur varying in shades of browns and grays, sit amongst the cliffs and rocks. Their wings are angrily raised, and some possess spikes on their backs that remind me of quills, also raised. One lets out a high-pitched snarl, and they attack like a swarm of wasps. I hiss and pounce at the one closest. The creature bashes its head under my chin, shoving me over the edge of the cliff. I hit my head before catching my claws on the lip of an outcrop. I pull myself up then charge up the rock and flip off it. I close my eyes and picture myself as one of them. By the time I land, I am. Teeth burrow into my shoulder blade, and I’m bashed against the rock wall. Without a chance to recover, another digs its claws into my hindquarters and swings me up into the air with ease. I taste rock. A second later, teeth are in my leg, and I’m swung around. A thin stone column slaps my side, collapsing from the force. I tumble onto a slender ledge, gasping air back into my lungs. Come on. I growl.

I’m just getting my feet under me when one slams its body into mine. Teeth grip my throat, crushing it. I panic and rip at it with my claws without effect. My eyes screw up, and I wheeze in a breath. The creature lets out a screech and goes limp. I claw it away from my neck, kicking it over the edge. “You okay?” Ryan shouts, lowering his bow. I can barely nod before having to skid down the rock to evade an oncoming creature. I leap to a spire and whack my tail at the next attacker. It screeches in pain, the blow powerful enough that I hear bone splinter. I hadn’t thought I’d struck it that hard. Another creature lands on the uneven top of my spire and hisses. Its claws flash, miss, but my strike produces thin streams of red across its cheek. The creature’s eyes narrow to murderous slits. Jaws clamp around my tail, and I shriek. I make the mistake of twisting to face the creature below me. The one above slithers under my belly and jams its head into my stomach, ripping me away from the rock. I unfurl my wings, but they’re different from bird wings and I whirl around ungracefully, losing precious seconds, which the creatures snap up. They circle me like a vicious tornado, stabbing my flesh with the needle-sharp barbs on the end of their tails or slicing at my body with the bladed edges. They even use their claws when they get the chance. The stench of blood and fear grows as my strikes repeatedly prove ineffectual. Twice I hear a creature let out a wail of death, a victim of Ryan’s sword or maybe arrows, but I can’t get a hold on any of them long enough to make a kill. “Lissa! Ryan!” Shiver shrieks. I frantically look around but can’t see her through the tangle of creatures. The creatures tighten their circle, and I’m forced to stay put. I have to get out of here. Golden eagle. I belt out a piercing shriek.

The creatures’ tight form breaks apart. I bolt away, catching a glimpse of Ryan before I land on a large outcrop. The creatures flit among the cliffs, hissing and communicating with each other. Ryan uses his sword to keep the few creatures attacking him at bay. I desperately look for Shiver but still can’t see her. The creatures abruptly disappear, and it becomes jarringly silent. Shocked, I fly to an outcrop near Ryan, who is breathing heavily. Lissa. “Where did they go?” he asks just as I ask, “Where’s Shiver?” “She was up there,” he says, pointing to higher ledge. I shift back into one of the creatures and leap to a shelf above, crawling along it silently, ears alert. “Shiver?” The rock beneath me trembles, and I pause. Silence. I duck my head again, inhaling deeply, seeking out Shiver’s scent. Jackpot. The scent trail continues up. She must be exhausted. These steep paths wouldn’t be easy on her small legs. The rock trembles more violently. Then a loud hiss hums in my ears. “Lissa,” Ryan says my name slowly. I gasp. The creatures that we’d thought were gone unexpectedly appear. It’s as if they have the ability to turn invisible. “Lissa!” Shiver scrambles as fast as she can toward me. I quickly cover the space between us and protectively wrap myself around her. Ryan shouts, but the words are lost over the tremendous crashing of rocks as one cave explodes. A creature like the others but five times larger, emerges from the rubble. My mouth drops open. It bellows, and the rock beneath me trembles. The alpha swings its head around, catches sight of me. Its tongue flicks out. Then it leaps.

I grab Shiver by her scruff and frantically claw my way up the face of the rock. While fleeing, I can’t help marveling at these creature’s exceptional ability to maintain their grip and balance, no matter the pace, on these rocky surfaces. It must be because of the pitted pads. They’re not sticky like a frog’s but mold to the shape of the rock’s surface. This allows me to race straight up cliffs, slip around columns, jump from one outcrop to another, and pretty much anything else that involves madly running away from the alpha creature. I try hard to lose it, but no matter what I do, it’s always on my tail, its teeth centimeters from clasping my body. I spot Ryan several times out of the corner of my eye, wildly fighting off the lesser creatures circling him. He doesn’t appear to be doing much better than me. They’re too adept at fighting on the terrain and skilled at attacking in unison. Our group training was nothing compared to this. I scramble to the top of a high, large column. The flurry of creatures are attacking Ryan on one side more heavily than the other, steering him toward a cave. I turn my gaze back to the alpha, who is steadily climbing my column. The message in the alpha’s spring green eyes is clear: get out. If these creatures aren’t under Xavier and Medusa, maybe they just want us off their territory. I’m not too thrilled about flying with these unusual wings, but I have no choice. The alpha rumbles, creaking open its wings to follow. I shove my way through the cyclone of creatures to Ryan. His sword comes close to striking me, but Shiver cries out, “Don’t!” With difficulty, I grasp Ryan’s arms with my paws. I intend to take off, but Ryan weighs me down and it takes a couple painful tries before I can lift him off the ground. They chase us for the first few yards, but a purr rumbles through the air and they fall back. “Sorry. At first, I didn’t notice Shiver, and you looked like the rest of them,” Ryan explains once the creatures have left us alone. I stay silent, Shiver still clamped between my teeth.

“I could tell it was her by her scent,” Shiver says proudly. Over and past their cliffs, a valley claims the land. I alight on the ground, practically dropping Ryan instead of placing him down gently like I intend. Shiver falls from my jaws, rolling up into a ball. Ryan rubs his neck. Lissa. On the short side of the valley, the grass trickles away until it’s barren and rocky. “We have to keep moving,” Ryan says, collecting the sweat off his brow with a hand. “I think they only wanted us off their territory,” I say. “Are you sure?” Shiver asks fearfully. “I’m pretty sur—” The ground beneath us forcefully bursts open. My back hits rock, and I nearly somersault over my head. Wincing at the pain in my back, I push up onto my elbows. Ryan is several feet away, Shiver by his feet. I feel like I get to my feet in slow motion, my eyes fixed on the alpha creature heaving itself out of the hole it’s created in the earth, its minions rushing out around it. Ryan’s hand grasps my arm and yanks me out of my stupor. “Run!” Ryan shouts. “What?” Just like with the pterosaur, Ryan grabs my hand and takes off in the blink of an eye. I’m barely able to scoop up Shiver. The ground warns of the lumbering alpha beast, and I grip Ryan’s hand tighter. “Ryan, we can’t—” I jump over a fissure in the earth. “We can’t outrun these things!” His face is set with grim determination, and I clench my own jaw in frustration. For fear of tripping, I don’t allow myself to look back. But I do look ahead.

We’re running right for a volcano—not a huge one but not a small one either. It had better be dormant. Because Ryan’s heading straight for it. We bound over another crack, drawing closer and closer to the volcano’s base. I can make out the pathways where lava once ran. I chance looking over my shoulder. The alpha and minions have stopped pursuing us and now bolt back to their cliffs. Something inside me screams that we shouldn’t get any closer. “Ryan, they’ve stopped—” The volcano shuddering to life interrupts me. That gets Ryan to halt. The ground quakes violently. My arms fly out to steady myself and I drop Shiver. I narrow my eyes at Ryan. He catches my look, and his mouth drops open. “I didn’t—” He’s cut off by a massive explosion. We stare in astonishment as a column of thick, gray smoke soars into the sky along with a spout of lava. It gracefully arcs down onto the old lava-plastered ground at the base of the volcano. We duck and cover our heads as burning rocks pound the ground. Shiver dashes back to me, scurrying up my jeans and burrowing into my arms. Part of me is terrified to be so close to an erupting volcano, but I also stare in awe because I’ve never seen a volcano erupt before and it’s absolutely spectacular. “Run?” I say, unable to hide the hint of sarcasm. He doesn’t answer, just turns, and we now attempt to reach the thin forest bordering the rocky ground. A burning rock sprays up dirt as it crashes in front of us. Ryan darts around it, hardly slowing. Rocks of various sizes shower to the ground like a box of dangerous beads was spilled. Keeping one eye on the sky and another on the rutted ground proves difficult.

We nearly fall into the suddenly gaping mouth of the earth. Far below, a river of lava chugs along, invisible steam wafting up and blowing my hair around. Ryan jerks me back as the ground crumbles away, but there’s no point. The earth on our every side is breaking apart, revealing rivers of lava below. We scramble in every direction in order to not fall in, the fissures opening larger as if trying to capture us. A crack runs along the ground, bumping into another crack and forming a crooked triangle. The shuddering piece of earth breaks away, sliding toward the yawning gap. Pain snaps at my knees and wrists as I fall hard. Shiver turns her giant, fear-filled eyes on me. I pick her up. She yelps, “Wait!” before I toss her away from the crumbling ground. Paralyzed by fear, my brain screams at my body to move, to shift, but I can’t. My mind won’t think and hold an image. The ground crumbling beneath my feet snaps me out of it, and I claw my way to firm ground. But not fast enough. My hand scrapes across the dirt, and panic spots my vision as I realize I’m going to fall. Ryan’s hand suddenly grabs mine, his fingers gripping it tightly. I clap my other hand around his wrist. “Don’t let me fall,” I plead. “I won’t,” he responds through gritted teeth. A deep frown creasing his forehead, Ryan struggles to his knees. Am I really that heavy? Then he slowly pulls me up, our grasp becoming slippery from sweat. My body flushes from the broiling heat below and I start to pant. It feels like I’m going to melt. “Grab the ledge,” he says. I don’t want to let go of Ryan’s wrist, but I force my other hand to release its hold and reach out, coming centimeters short. I stretch higher, and in doing so, I pull my other hand farther out of Ryan’s. He grunts, his grip crunching together the bones of my knuckles, fear flashing in his eyes. “Try again.” As I reach for the ledge again, there’s an explosion of dirt as a rock collides with

the ground, streaming down to the orange river. It sends Ryan onto his side, and in that second, I slip. Ryan makes a wild, futile grab. Our eyes lock briefly as I twist in the air. I’m sure I’m going to die of a heart attack before I hit the lava. But it’s like falling into a pile of snow. Once my heart stops drumming its rhythm of terror, I realize I’m not getting burned alive and open my eyes. Lava slips around my outstretched arm like silky, molten chocolate, without leaving a trace or feeling, merging overhead. I’m spit out of the lava river and into near darkness. I twist my body around just before I land on rock. A drawn-out groan of pain comes from my throat as I roll onto my back. Jeez, that hurt. I get to my feet, holding my left arm to my side. I wish I could heal even faster. Blood dribbles from wounds that haven’t yet clotted, and getting bashed against those rocks is starting to take effect. I tilt my head back. The ceiling is dark. Am I seeing orange, or are my eyes playing tricks on me? I look around. The obsidian rock has veins of gray running through it. I must be in a tunnel. Farther down, pebbles clatter to the floor, the sound echoing in the isolation. I have to get back to Ryan. A small flutter of light snags my attention. A butterfly. I think. Its body is shrouded in an orange-ish white glow, which curls and wisps like steam around the butterfly’s wings as it moves, leaving a faint glowing trail behind it that dissipates moments later. The butterfly nears in a swinging up-and-down motion. It’s rollercoaster flight halts directly in my face, and its little black eyes blink. A small, amused smile crosses my lips. I hold out a finger, and the butterfly clips its thin legs on the skin. It sinks miniature fangs into my flesh. “Ow.” I whisk my finger away. I wipe off the blood that wells up. Feeling a pinch, I look down. A different butterfly is sucking on my leg, this one baby-blue and white. I wiggle my leg, and the butterfly tumbles off. The ghostly glow is stronger now, and I turn to find butterflies strung out behind

me. None of them have the same set of colors. They create a giant glow, their colors mingling so that I’m hardly able to distinguish one from another or that they even are butterflies. Not wanting to get sucked dry, I move farther away from them but use their glow to find the wall. The stone is fairly smooth but pitted. I should be able to climb it. I grasp an indent with my left hand only to fall back with a cry. I cradle my wrist, grimacing back tears. Butterflies flit around my face, dramatically tumbling away with a gentle flick. I step closer to the wall, shooing away more butterflies. Gritting my teeth, I reach out, tears streaming down my cheeks. At another prick, I shake my leg. Prick. Stupid butterflies. The next cleft is smoother, forcing me to cling harder with my injured wrist, and I sob out a groan. Prick. “Go away! I’m having enough trouble as it is.” I jiggle the butterfly off my arm and nearly slip. Curses litter my thoughts, but I bite my tongue. Both my parents would have a field day if they knew any bad word had crossed my mind. Probably the only thing they ever had in common. Another prick. “You know what? You guys are not butterflies. It’s no wonder you’re trapped down in this dark place. No one likes a blood-sucking butterfly.” Prick. “No one!” It’s still faint, but near the top, there’s definitely an orange glow. Finding a firm position, I reach out with my left hand. The blackness swirls around my hand like a pot of smoke. Then I jerk back with a scream. I hit the ground with a thud and clutch my hand to my chest. Son of a witch. I hold up my hand. By the glow of the little vampires, it’s not a pretty sight. The tips of my fingers are gone, and the top half of my trembling hand is charred. The merciless vampires descend, and I angrily get to my feet and march down the tunnel. The ground abruptly drops off, and the glow behind me dims. I look back, and they’re just a glowing ball traveling down the tunnel. Good riddance. I sit on the

ledge and hunch over. If I can’t go up, how am I ever going to get back to Ryan? I have to get back before he decides to do something crazy like jump into the river of lava after me. If he would do that . . . I hope not, but he might if he was able to see that the lava didn’t burn me. I kick off one of my shoes. It sounds far down. I don’t want to get farther away from Ryan, but maybe in this unusual landscape down will offer a way out. In this second of pause, I listen for sounds from above. Faint rumblings to my right but that’s it. This is going to hurt. I jump and shift into a falcon. Pain electrifies my left wing, but I can’t sob in this form. The wind whistles through my feathers, and I strain my eyes in the dimness. My wings snap out a moment late. Lissa. I clumsily drop onto the sandy dirt. I close my eyes and count my breaths until I don’t feel like I’m going to be sick. Using my good hand, I put my shoe back on. A tunnel stretches in both directions. I breathe in—no scents—and place my hand flat against the rock. Vibrations to the right? That would coincide with what I can hear, but it’s so faint. Still, I go left. As I walk down the ageway, the walls of rock on either side slant farther and farther down until the rocky, stalactite ceiling is visible. I keep walking straight, ignoring the few turnoff tunnels. Ahead, there’s an orange-red glow. Curious, I pick up the pace until I’m standing beneath a river of lava that extends from one wall to the other. I stare in astonishment. The lava slowly flows down the tunnel—but overhead. I look down at my hand. Tiny bits of flesh are patching up my fingers, but the pain is still vibrant. “Who are you?” a female voice asks with a slight accent that sounds French. I spin around. A lion? Where did she come from? “Who are you?” Her mouth opens slightly, probably to take in my scent. I consider shifting, but unless she attacks, I’d rather not.

“I asked first.” Her tone is as guarded as her stance, but her eyes glint with curiosity. Seconds tick away as I debate how to respond. I’m sure I could take her down should we fight, but she also might be able to get me to the surface quicker. “My name is Lissa. I fell through the lava while crossing the land.” The lion’s ears flick back. “I smell you already tried going back the way you came.” I hold my hand closer to my stomach. “Can you show me how to get back to the surface?” Her gaze thoughtful, she flicks her tail. “You’re on prohibited territory. Medusa owns this Earth Hollow, and she’s very adamant that all tresers be either executed or turned over to her,” she states robotically. I widen my stance and tilt my head down. “I don’t want to fight you, but I will if I have to.” Instead of looking ruffled, she swivels her ears, listening. “You have the scent of animal beneath your skin. You must be the shifter I’ve heard rumors of. They must not be true though since you’re headed away from Xavier’s territory. Have you given up without even trying?” “I have not given up,” I say defiantly. “I’m headed that way. I just—maybe went the wrong direction,” I grit out. Her whiskers twitch. “Can you help me get out of here or not?” I demand. “Do you truly intend to defeat Medusa?” I narrow my eyes. I don’t have to convince her. I turn away. She won’t attack. The scent she gives off is too peaceful. “This tunnel only circles back to the blood-hungry moths. I could help, should you just answer my question.”

I angle my head back. Pain-fueled anger clicks on my stubborn side. But I don’t have time to be stubborn. I turn around. “I left my life to stop Medusa and Xavier, so yes I really, truly intended to defeat them.” “Good. Follow me.” She dashes ahead. I take a deep breath and squeeze my palm. The wound is looking better, but it’s still going to hurt. 1-2-3. Lion. I chase after her, altering my movements so my hurt paw takes less weight. “Since taken from my home, my job has been to chart Earth Hollows,” the lion says when I’ve caught up. That explains the accent. She unexpectedly swerves to the left, trotting through a narrower tunnel, which begins to slant up after roughly thirty feet. “There is one that can lead you straight to Xavier’s fortress of mountains.” I nearly lose my footing. “Where is it?” “Once you cross the border of Xavier’s territory, you’ll come across a valley of sand. Find the center. There will be a patch of spiraling sand. Fall in, and it will drop you into the Earth Hollow.” I sputter with excitement. “That’s great!” I can’t wait to tell Ryan. She’s probably just saved us time and given us a safer way in. The tunnel zigzags four more times, and I start to wonder if it’ll open near the volcano or somewhere further away. “I’ll warn you, it won’t take you to the mountain Xavier uses as his headquarters, and there will be many warriors about.” “Thanks. You might’ve just saved our lives.” She comes to an immediate halt. “Our?”

I trip over myself to stop, my legs tangling, and I fall in a heap on the floor. I get up and shake myself off. “Yes, ‘our.’ There’s someone else with me.” “Oh.” She digs her claws into the almost vertical, slender tunnel, but indicates I’m to go first. “Perhaps don’t thank me yet. Some Earth Hollows are just channels under the earth, but most hide secrets that are either unusual or deadly. I never did figure out if it had either.” I flick my ears back. Good to know. If Ryan weren’t above, I’d take the time to ask more questions. The incline is rough, and the somewhat loose dirt makes it all the more difficult to get a good grip, especially with my bad paw. My body strains to keep from sliding back down, and when the tunnel stretches on and my muscles start to cramp, I fight the urge to cry. Faded vibrations hum across my pads. We must be nearing the surface. Determination provides the spurt of energy I need to get up the last several feet. “I hope you understand that I’ll have to send a patrol after you,” she says. “It’d be smart for you to be long gone by night.” I stare up at an opening half my size. She nudges me forcefully. Fox. I slip out and turn around to thank her again, but she’s gone. Lissa. I close my eyes and exhale before wearily standing. I just want this day to be over already, but first, where’s Ryan? He’s nowhere in sight. Great. If he jumped into a rift to save me— “Lissa!” I turn only to be nearly knocked off balance by Ryan wrapping me in a suffocating hug. Despite the pain it causes my hand, I relax against him. “I thought you had been killed,” he says, and I hear him swallow hard. “I thought so too,” Shiver whimpers. She grabs my leg, and her tiny claws dig into my skin.

I pull back but still hold on to Ryan with my good hand. “You’ve got to give me more credit than that. I wouldn’t die and leave you guys. This time, can we head for the forest instead of the volcano?” Ryan makes a face. Too soon to tease, I guess. “What happened to your hand?” he asks. I step back before he can touch it. “I might’ve tried climbing back out through the lava. I’ll tell you about it later because we need to get out of here.” I’d almost rather take the risk and rest right here, if it were just me. The volcano is still spewing lava and rock, and the earth is still erratically bursting open. But we’re not nearly as close to the center of activity, and as long as we keep an eye out for falling rocks, we can get by with walking instead of running. Something forcefully grazes along the back of my hip, shoving me against Ryan and sending us both to the floor. The jarring pain that comes with hitting the ground is starting to get way too familiar. Groaning, I roll to my side. Taken down by a rock. And now the pain in my hand is back full force. Could this day get any worse. “Are you okay?” Ryan asks, rolling right back onto his feet, just like Cuven trained us. “I’m fine. Can we just get out of here?” At the back of my mind, I know it’s not fair to snap at him, but I’m sick of this pain. I slowly get to my feet, holding my burnt hand close to my chest. “No need to be angry.” It’s like he pulled out the Jenga block keeping the tower of anger steady. “No need to be angry? You ran toward this stupid volcano! Why can’t you look where you’re running?” Anger crashes down on his face, and he squares his shoulders. “I almost jumped in there after you because I thought I lost you, and you’re saying this is my fault?”

“Like I said, you ran toward the volcano—not me. I tried to stop you but no!” His voice deepens as he keeps from yelling, “I suppose it’s also my fault you fell. You’re the all-powerful shapeshifter—why didn’t you fly back and save us both the heartache?” I bite my lip. No. I can not cry now. I suck in a breath and fight to hold on to the anger, but it rebelliously slips away as I croak, “All-powerful. Yeah the allpowerful shapeshifter that nearly got us all killed. The all-powerful shapeshifter that couldn’t scent danger two feet away.” My voice disobediently trembles, even as I swallow to repress the tears. “Or the all-powerful shapeshifter who’s supposed to save the whole darn planet but can’t defeat a few mutant lions!” Ryan’s face softens, and his shoulders sag. No. No. No. Tears fall, but I cut off the beginning of a sob. I turn away. “Lissa,” he says softly, evoking more tears. His footsteps near, and I step away, biting my tongue when using my right leg releases a brief but strong surge of pain. “That was only our first battle. You can’t expect it to go exactly like in training. And not even Darklily was aware of every danger beforehand.” His tone is still soft, banishing the last of my anger and leaving me open to crushing defeat. My legs suddenly buckle from exhaustion, and my knees hit the hard earth. “I know it wouldn’t. I just—” Ryan must have the transportation powers of a ghost because he’s suddenly, and quietly, by my side, holding me to his chest. “I thought I could do this, Ryan, but I can’t. I wasn’t meant for this. I wasn’t meant for anything. I don’t know why Dark picked me. I know nothing about fighting. All it takes is a rock to knock me down,” I blubber, pressing my forehead to his shoulder. He pulls back and I try to keep my face hidden in his chest, but he gently takes my shoulders and pushes me away. “Hey. You’re the only one who could do this. That’s why Darklily found you. Because she knew if anyone could put an end to this war, it’s you.” I look to my left and see Shiver nodding vigorously. “You’re the best there is,

Lis.” “It doesn’t matter if our first real battle didn’t go so well. The fact that we’ve made it this far means a heck of a lot more. We’ve basically had to learn how to survive. We hunt our own meals, and we’ve eaten nothing but meat and fruit. The only water we have to drink is what we can find. I’ve never done so much dang walking in my life, and there have been mornings when I wake up and don’t want to go any farther.” I wipe at my eyes, but they threaten to spill over again when I apologize, “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I just . . .” He wipes away a stray tear. “Don’t worry about it.” A rock chunk smashes to the ground, reminding us we’re still within the perimeter of the volcano. Ryan takes most of my weight as I get to my feet then offers to carry me. “At least until we’re to that forest.” I shake my head. “I can make it. Just, maybe let me lean on you,” I add after the first step. The second we reach the sparse woods, I grab one of the narrow trunks and put all my weight on it. Shiver sits near the base of the tree, staring out at the volcano. I close my eyes. “Is it okay if I look?” Ryan asks. I nod. As he lifts my shirt, I hunt for water with my ears, my parched mouth getting even more demanding when nothing comes up. “It actually doesn’t look that bad. The skin that’s scraped off is already almost healed up, got a pretty good bruise. It’s your hand I’m worried about though.” My hand still looks pretty ugly, but the healing, though slow, is more visible now —not that that’s done a whole lot for the pain. “Where’s the pack?” he asks.

I’d forgotten we even had it. “Uh, at the cliffs. I think.” Ryan runs a hand through his hair. “We need to get it back. Synth put this water that heals inside.” Good, Cuven was able to get the water into the pack. I wonder if this healing water lives up to its name. “I think we should stay in the forest for the night, head out at dawn to get the pack?” he says. I agree and he adds, “I’ll be right back.” “You okay, Shiver?” Poor little thing has probably never been through so much. The little coati looks up at me, her eyes large. Her nose twitches, and she blinks. “I’m okay,” she answers, but her voice doesn’t have its usual liveliness. “There’s a cave not too far from here. We’ll camp there,” he says. Once he’s helped me to the cave, he heads back out for firewood, giving Shiver the task of piling the branches in a circular pattern, which she completes quietly. He then goes out and hunts, returning after short while with two small birds. “All I could find,” he says as he begins his preparations to gut them. I lean against the cave entrance but keep my eyes on the landscape instead of his work. “While I was out there, it made me think of something. When you hunt, I’ve never seen you move faster or your blows be so precise, not even in training. It’s a little scary actually, but what I’m saying is maybe when you fight, you need to think of it like a hunt.” I tilt my head. When I hunt, I rarely miss anymore, but that’s because there’s little room for error. We can’t afford to miss out on a meal. He turns away from the birds. “I know you don’t like killing, but maybe thinking that way will help you.” I go to bite my thumbnail, but a whiff of blood and dirt deters me. Killing without letting regret or my conscience get in the way? The thought sends an uncomfortable shiver down my spine. While Ryan finishes up with the birds and starts a fire, I tell him about my

adventure under the lava and the Earth Hollow the lion told me about. He expresses more enthusiasm than I did, one idea sprouting off another and leading to another flurry of words. If the pain weren’t so adamant about hogging all my focus, I’d jump in on his mostly one-sided discussions. I take only one of the cooked portions Ryan offers me, not feeling super hungry. Shiver eats little as well before she crawls into my lap, latching her front paws around my arm, something I found out only a week ago gives her comfort. Little orange-red flames jaggedly skip up and down, and the silence presses down, causing me to think. “I didn’t come here just to help Dark.” I lean my head against the wall and study the roof. “That night in the woods, you were right. I was running from something.” He takes his piece of meat away from the flames and leans next to me. The trees in this forest have narrow trunks and thin-leafed tops, allowing a spotty view of the volcano. It still spits out lava, a blast of magma and smoke here and there into the starlit sky. “My mom and I don’t get along very well. She wanted me to be exactly like her. I couldn’t care less about beauty pageants, and when you’re a kid, you should be able to eat without being told how much fat it will put on your waistline.” I fix a tuft of Shiver’s wayward fur. “It’s taken time, but I don’t let her get in my head anymore. Then she pulled the stunt of moving in with her most recent ‘love,’ day before graduation. I wanted her to watch me pack up and leave the house—leave her for once.” I shake my head. I should’ve known I couldn’t outwit my mom. She wasn’t following a plan or even purposefully trying to hurt me. She lived for herself and breezed through life as it happened. How her actions affected me was just inconsequential, collateral damage. “Anyway, I panicked, and even though I had no clue what I was getting into, going with Dark seemed like the best way to avoid my future.” To avoid feeling and thinking too deeply. Ryan has been gazing into the fire, but now he looks at me. “I think that, whatever the reason for coming, it was the best choice either of us made.” I bite the inside of my lip. “Maybe. I feel like such an awful person.” My voice starts to quaver so I suck in a breath.

“Why would you think that? You’re not—” “You don’t know.” I itch to pace, to pick at the ground, but with Shiver in my lap and holding down one arm and my hand healing, I’m forced to keep in place. “I left my dad. He has depression. I think. I’m not actually sure what it is. He’s just not himself or the way he used to be. He wanders and forgets.” “Is he at your house?” “No. No, of course not. My mom got him checked into some place. Who knows what stories she told to get him in there. All I know is it was to get her divorce, not to help him.” “If you hate your mom because of that, that doesn’t make you an awful person.” His eyes reflect some of the fire, the red orange flames, giving his eyes almost a golden look. “I don’t hate her.” Not now, anyway. And if she stays out of my life like I’m sure she’s going to, maybe I can even move past her. “I’m awful because I wanted time away from Dad. I didn’t want to worry about him or where he might be. Maybe . . . I wanted him to be the one to worry. Maybe I was angry. I don’t know. I told him I’d move to the city where he is, but he didn’t want me to.” I swallow hard and grit my teeth. “I don’t understand why he wants me away. Why do people push me away or leave or turn on me? I try to be everything and still—” Ryan steals my arm from Shiver and presses his shoulder to mine. The look in his eyes, love and sadness, a promise of protection, makes the deep breath I just sucked in stick in my lungs. My head and heart could scream their fears as loud as they wanted. It didn’t stop part of me from falling for him even harder. “I’m not going to leave you,” he says. After spilling my guts, there should be more than this simple sentence, but it lodges in my heart and sheds a layer of sweet warmth even as my mouth says, “You can’t know that. People change their minds.” “I won’t,” he breathes, as if the fierceness of his words can bind the promise with fate. But how could anything be bound by fate when the very thing is

unforeseeable, unreliable even because who’s to determine what is or isn’t fate? I lean away from him. “If anything happens to him while I’m gone, I don’t know how I’ll ever get over it,” I say, my eyes starting to get teary again. “I bet your dad is just fine. He might be worried sick about you, but at least you know he’s being watched over. First thing when we get back, we’ll check on him.” I sure hope he’s okay. I sigh and sag against the wall. Ryan presses his shoulder to mine then gets up to put out the fire. Cradling Shiver, I move away from the wall and lie down. I’m mentally and physically exhausted, but sleep isn’t going to be a friend tonight. I gaze through the trees, note that somehow almost every fissure in the volcano’s territory has closed. That could’ve been interesting to witness. Ryan lies down behind me, at least a foot or two away. I don’t know why he bothers. By the time we get up, he’s always right next to me. To refocus and relax my mind, I count the number of times I’d embarrassingly walked into branches. I really should’ve learned to keep my head up by now. But I also like to watch the ground, and it seems like a necessity after that time I almost stepped on a baby snake.

I jolt awake, blinking until the world is not so black. Ryan is slightly pressed to my side, his breath tickling across my cheek and his arm draped over my hip. The warmth of his body against mine makes my skin tingle, but I force myself to focus on other things. Like Shiver squished against my chest. I gently move her away, and she doesn’t stir. I wriggle away from Ryan so that I can roll onto my back. The night air is sweetly warm and slightly smoky, a light breeze whispering through the cave before leaving. A haunting sensation tells me there was a reason I woke. A sound? I gently remove Ryan’s arm then shuffle away from the two cuddle bugs so I can stand without disturbing them. Outside, I give my hand a onceover. Not

completely healed but close. At least it doesn’t look so ugly anymore. I press around my side. No pain. It must be healed up. I close my eyes and focus on what I can smell and hear—crickets and smoke. A bark-like noise stands apart from the chime of crickets. My eyes snap open. Was that a dog bark? In the soft moonlight, I strain my human eyes to scan the flat terrain. Near the vicinity of the volcano, there’s a dark figure, a wolf, I think, sniffing the ground. I move away from our cave. After a moment, I spot three others. They meticulously sniff along certain paths, their determination to find something obvious. I watch them for several more minutes. Could they be hunting for us? As soon as the thought enters my head, I realize the wolves must be the ones that the lion had to send after me. I purse my lips. We should’ve kept going. To make sure it’s not just a random pack of wolves that happen to be in the area, I carefully observe them. They’re quiet aside from low, rough barks, and they keep their noses jammed to the ground, bounding to a new spot every so often. It sure looks like they’re following the paths where the giant fissures used to be. Most likely not a random pack. I’d better wake Ryan, who’s sleeping like we’re back on Earth. I kneel beside him. “Ryan.” How does he fall into such a deep sleep? I jostle his shoulder. “What?” he mumbles. “Shh. Come here.” I take his hand when he doesn’t move right away. He trips over his feet as I pull him toward the front of the cave. I point to the wolves, but he must not see them because he looks at me, confused. “Look,” I whisper more insistently. Ryan rubs his face then stares at where I’m pointing. He mutters a curse then goes to grab his weapons. “What should we do?” I ask when he’s again next to me. “We could try slipping away. I just don’t know how far we’d get before they catch onto our scent trail.”

“We can—” The head of one wolf snaps up, and the others gather around it. Its eyes reflecting moonlight, the lead wolf heads right for our cave.

Chapter 14

“Lissa, stay with Shiver,” Ryan tells me in a tone that says not to argue. I bite the side of my lip as he walks toward the wolves. He stops about thirty feet from them and raises his bow, taking out an arrow. The wolves halt and size up Ryan. “Lower your weapon,” commands the male leader. “Don’t get any closer,” Ryan counters firmly. The wolves look at each other. The leader takes two steps back, forcing the wolves behind him to move back also. “The scent of the girl is that of the one who tresed in our tunnels.” “She’s not tresing anymore.” I’ve never heard Ryan’s voice sound so gruff or commanding. I kind of like it. “That may be, but our protocol demands all tresers be detained until proven harmless. We’re at war. Any creature could be a spy.” “We’re not spies. We crossed the land by mistake. We’re headed for a portal back to Earth. We don’t want to fight, but we will if we have to.” As a warning, Ryan fires the arrow. I’m sure it grazes the leader’s ear, but he barely flinches. The wolf to his left says something very quietly, and the leader flicks his tail irritably. “Be gone by morning, or we’ll bring more teeth to put you humans in your place,” the leader warns. “Think they’ll buy that?” I ask. Ryan shrugs. “I think we should make for those cliffs now though.” I wake Shiver, who is still dead to the world. We wait for the wolves to be out of sight before skirting the volcano’s rocky territory and back to the cliffs of those

half-lion creatures. Once we retrieve the backpack, we backtrack and travel the direction he initially said we should go. I follow Ryan’s lead wholeheartedly since my one chance to pick which direction we go turned out to be the worst direction. And true to his nature, when it comes to directions, he was right. Ryan cracks a few jokes about how he wondered that I hadn’t gotten us lost before, but we both know that he had been leading the whole way, even if I didn’t know it at the time. As our travel days accumulate, I decide not everywhere on Pandorma is either perilous or terrifying. Tucked deep among the normal, and semi-normal, terrain are a few rare, outlandish places. There’s an orchard with hundreds of flowers, every color possible—most a foot across, some even bigger. It isn’t the flowers that are strange but the quarter-sized birds that live within the flowers. I think they’re adorable, but Ryan gets fed up with them when they keep trying to nestle in his hair. In another place, frosty white berries about the size of marbles grow on threefoot-tall fern stalks. Little red seeds can be seen in the middle, and the air around the berries is cool. When I eat one, I’m pretty sure I fall in love. The mint flavor sings in my mouth, humming over my teeth and gums, coating my taste buds, and leaving behind traces of its melody so that all I have to do is run my tongue across the inside of my cheek or over my teeth to refresh the flavor. Once the top coat melts on my tongue, the berry is slightly chewy before dissolving. I pick at least two handfuls and store them in the backpack, but between Shiver and me they disappear quickly. I wish we had picked more. My salivating mouth wishes I had done this too. But they’re a day away now with little hope of being eaten again. I sigh and shove aside branches. “I can’t wait to take a bath in hot water,” I say. “Or eat something caught and prepared by someone else. Having some other food choices would be super nice too.” Or to just have more berries. The forest we are currently in can only be described as willow trees on steroids. The abundant leaves blot out everything but sunlight, and the branches are so long they’ve amassed on the ground. “I couldn’t agree with you more,” Ryan says.

“Huh?” I partially tilt my head back toward him. “Having hot water.” “Right!” “What were you thinking of?” “Uh, those mint berries. We should’ve picked more,” I say wistfully. “They were very good!” Shiver exclaims, licking her lips. “You shouldn’t encourage her, Shiver. She hasn’t stopped thinking about those berries since we left,” Ryan says. I sigh. “That’s because I’m heartbroken without them.” “Heartbroken,” he grunts, nearly tripping. Moving at any speed faster than a stumble has been difficult. Frustrated, Ryan had started chopping the branches away with his sword until I scolded him for ruining nature. He told me that if he couldn’t clear a path then I had to take the lead. I’d considered turning into a mouse but decided against it. Ryan growls behind me, his struggle to untangle his foot only leading to it becoming more tangled. I’m about to tease him, but I catch a scent that grabs my attention. “Hey!” Ryan crashes into my back, propelling me forward and making me lose the scent. He grabs my arm just in time to steady me. “Jeez, Ryan. Trees and any part of them must be your Achilles heel.” “Sorry.” “I thought I picked up a funny smell. I think we’re getting close,” I say and fling away more branches. “Close to what?” Shiver asks, her nose working furiously to pick up whatever I’m smelling. “The edge of the willow forest.”

“It smells like danger,” she says nervously. Ryan’s eyes ask if this is true. “It did kind of smell like a territory marker,” I say. But I lost the scent before I could be sure. Ryan grips the handle of his sword while Shiver scrambles over to me and crawls up into my arms. “I hope they’re not mean!” she squeaks. “I don’t like any of the creatures we’ve run into.” “You’re safe with us,” I say as I tease old leaves and baby thorns out of her fur. Ryan, who had slipped ahead of me, now stops. “The willows end here.” Reaching his side, I part the curtain of leaves. Savannah. The patchy, dry grass is about a foot and a half tall, and the only things growing aside from the grass are widely spread trees and bushes. I inhale deeply. There have definitely been quite a few animals ing here. “It looks clear. We should make a run for it, see how far we get,” Ryan suggests. “You have a really bad habit of running,” I joke. “I doubt we’d get anywhere. I bet there are creatures lurking somewhere.” “Shh.” Ryan holds his finger up, his gaze softly accusing. “You’ll jinx it.” “Too late,” I whisper. Just beyond the crest of a hill, I detect movement. A short moment later, I distinguish the animals as a pack of bear dogs. And of course they’re heading toward the line of willows. Their cunning noses and ears stalk the land. Nothing within their range goes unnoticed. Their pace is slow, dominant. They don’t expect trouble, but if they do run across some, it would be dealt with quickly. “Maybe we can wait for them to then cross,” Ryan breathes. The bear dogs draw closer. The dog at the front is meticulously sniffing the air, his eyes narrowed like he’s caught a whiff of something he doesn’t like. “Lissa,” Ryan hisses.

I glance over at him. His mouth is parted, ready to say something else when the leader barks and all the dogs turn to statues, only their eyes roving along the tree border. What do we do? Ryan mouths. I look at him then back at the dogs. Although it’d be preferable, we won’t be able to avoid fighting these bear dogs. Ryan pokes me with his elbow. “I think they know we’re here,” he whispers fiercely. I stare at the grains of dirt, the veins of a fallen leaf. Fight like it’s a hunt. They are my prey. “We attack first,” I say and shed the backpack. He gives me an amused look and takes out an arrow and notches it in the bow. I don’t ask him what he thinks is funny, instead whispering to Shiver, “Stay hidden.” Tiger. Excited energy pulses through me as I shift. This battle will not be like the one at the cliffs—I can feel it. Tail flicking with exhilaration, I watch every cautious step they take, waiting for them to be in the perfect spot. Ryan shoots the arrow at the same moment that I bellow a monstrous growl and leap on the nearest dog. It yelps with surprise as my claws bury into its skin and my teeth into its neck. The bone snaps between my teeth, and I drop the dog. Another lies dead, an arrow in its skull. The others had scattered but now regroup behind their leader, assessing us. The leader utters a low growl, and two dogs break away, slinking toward Ryan, who is hovering just behind me, sword drawn, his bow and quiver left by the trees. The rest of the dogs circle the other way, trying to split me away from Ryan. They make their circle around us tighter, snapping but not touching. A dog on Ryan’s side lets out a strangled scream. I turn to look, and they jump me. Teeth clamp down on my legs, thighs, shoulders, anywhere they can bite in my second of distraction. I roar, twisting and striking out, but they dart away.

They dance around me in a weaving pattern, taking the chance to nip my hide when I’m facing a different attacker. I lean back into my heels and momentarily refrain from wildly twisting around at whichever pair of teeth have nipped my skin. I listen to their paw steps through the ground. The next bear dog that’s going to snake toward me I spin and leap at. It lets out a satisfying yelp as I bat it across the head. My claws tear the flesh of its shoulder, and my teeth crunch the bone of its neck. My eyes land on Ryan as the dog’s limp body falls from my mouth. Backed against the tree line, two dogs snap at him, going in for a bite while the other works to divert his attention. The dog at one side snakes its teeth toward Ryan’s ankle, and the other goes for his stomach. Ryan ducks and rolls to the side. Jumping up, he makes a mad dash for his bow. In one swift motion, he’s embedded an arrow in each dog. I slowly back toward Ryan, the dogs crisscrossing in front of me, trying to land their massive jaws in my flesh while also trying to avoid my strikes, which keep them out of biting range. Weight rolls across my back, and it takes me a split second to realize that it’s Ryan. His heavy boots clomp to the earth. Sword extended and giving a tremendous shout, he lunges at the next dog darting close. The dog easily dodges. I dive forward to attack its legs. Pairs of teeth wrench my fur from behind and one side. In one graceful move, the dog sidesteps me and latches onto my scruff. The butt of Ryan’s sword cracks against its skull then he runs the blade through its body. I swing my claws to address my other attackers. Ryan’s taken to the ground by another dog. I hook my paws around its ribcage, and my jaws crush its shoulders as I rear back, freeing Ryan. As I unhook my claws and teeth, I realize they’ve stopped attacking. The leader gives us a furious look then barks to the others, and they take off. My nostrils flare, my eyes zeroing in on their fleeing shapes. I never knew I could fly without wings. The power of my strides, the smooth motion of my spine, something inside me clicks into place. This is who I was meant to be. A trail of fear scent hits me, loaning more energy. I pounce.

The dog is dead and left behind by the second time my shoulders roll across the dirt. I’m back on my paws, the lost distance between me and the four remaining bear dogs a challenge to my abilities. Their increased pace is no match for my winged feet. Another dead. “Lissa!” I look back, and my eyes bulge. He’s almost a speck. I drop the limp dog as if burnt. The three bear dogs have cleared the savannah and are racing through a forest of massive pines. Despite my heaving chest, I feel I could force my body to resume the chase and that the oxygen needed would magically flood my veins. Go back to Ryan. I trot, savoring the tingly exhilaration that still strokes my leg muscles and frolics on my spine. I’d just covered more ground in mere minutes than I could ever dream of as a human. What other amazing feats am I capable of? Ryan’s figure up close is a reality check, and I feel the light in my eyes die and the energy bleed out into the ground. Lissa. The cold sense of guilt chills my human heart. I didn’t have to kill those dogs. Ryan’s eyes are infuriatingly difficult to read. He turns away. The new, unpleasant sense that I should explain myself takes hold. I grit my teeth. He encouraged me to think in a ‘kill to protect’ way. What did he expect? But that wasn’t killing to protect. My human side is surprised by what I just did, hindering any feelings of anger. I flex my shoulders forward then back. Ryan has retrieved the backpack, and wordlessly, he hands me the bottle of healing water. His puncture wounds are frosted with blood, but other than that, he doesn’t appear to have any bad wounds. I wipe away his blood before painstakingly dripping water onto his wounds. “I don’t need any. These wounds are healing quickly,” I say when he turns to me with the water.

Avoiding my eyes, he packs the bottle, his movements slow, his mind processing. “Are they gone?” Shiver asks, cautiously slipping out of the willow trees’ protective curtain of leaves. I scrutinize the landscape around us, looking for any more possible threats. “It’s safe,” I tell her. I gaze off toward the forest I’d chased the dogs to. It can barely be seen from here. Gosh, I ran fast. I smile, fighting back a full-on grin. My fingers twitch. How far could I have gone if I hadn’t stopped? The hairs on my neck prickle. I find Ryan staring at me. I stop smiling and clear my throat. “If we go straight, we’ll run into a forest. We should hurry and find that hollow. They probably went to warn someone we’ve crossed their border.” Shiver bounces away ahead of us. “Let’s get going then,” Ryan says, handing me the backpack.

Chapter 15

I watch the fire reflecting in Ryan’s eyes. The flames rise before snapping back down. Shiver, sleeping, is curled in a tight ball near the base of a tree. On two feet, it felt like it took forever to reach the forest I’d practically run to in only moments. I nearly jump out of my skin when the fire pops loudly. We’ve taken a big risk building a fire. It’s my fault. I insisted on warming my meat, but Ryan’s enjoying the warmth. It isn’t at all cold. Well, it’s not cold to me, being in wolf form. We’ll have to stamp it out soon though. The longer it blazes, the more likely it is to call attention to us. “How close do you think we are?” Ryan asks in a hushed voice, the only tone we’ve dared use since darkness fell. I try my best to recall the map of Pandorma Cobalt had shown us, but the image is faint, unreliable. “I have no idea, but we know we’re on their territory so it can’t be much farther.” I poke my nose around in my fur. Finding my wounds healed, I revert to human form. I start throwing dirt over the fire, which flickers madly in protest. “One hour sleep each then we keep going? I’ll take first shift.” Ryan kicks dirt at the fire with his boot. After it’s been extinguished, he scatters the evidence. It wouldn’t make a difference, any animal would just pick up our scent, but I keep this to myself. “One hour?” I groan while stifling a yawn. That fierce run is already laying down its consequences, reminding me I am, in fact, still human. “I don’t want to take any chances, like with the wolves.” “One hour then.” I sag against the tree’s coarse bark. “What about Shiver?” I ask suddenly.

“What do you mean?” “We’re getting closer. Things will only get more dangerous.” There are no crickets, or any other sounds, to fill in his silence. He stares out into the forest. Finally, he looks at me. “We should leave her. But how can we leave her?” he sighs, reading my thoughts exactly. I gently touch her soft head. “So what do we do?” Ryan sits next to me. “Leaving Shiver could put her in danger, but bringing her would be putting her in more danger. I think it would be best to continue without her.” He’s right, yet tears gather at the thought of leaving her behind. What if, after we leave, she gets attacked and badly injured or killed? How could I live with myself if that happens? But she won’t be any safer traveling with us, like Ryan said. She will be in even more danger. “How do we tell her?” I ask, my voice breaking. His shoulders hunch. “Let’s figure that out later.” I fold my hands over my lap and shut my eyes. Ryan’s boots shuck bark off a tree trunk, a few angered words breathed, and one branch disagrees with Ryan’s hold. One hour couldn’t faster. I double-check with Ryan twice if he was positive it had been at least an hour. How can he be so sure when he doesn’t have a clock? But he is adamant so I let it slide. To keep myself awake, I run movie lines and battle moves, finally picking up a downed pine twig and snipping off its inch-long green needles. He loves me. Not. He does love me. Nope. He basically said he loves me, kind of. I pause at the last needle then toss the branch. That’s a dumb game anyway. I’m sure it’s been an hour by now, and since Shiver’s closest, I wake her first.

“I should probably stop here,” Shiver murmurs. I’ve just woken Ryan. We look at each other, unsure how to react. “I heard you talking,” she continues, “and you’re right. You can’t focus on fighting if you have to always make sure I’m okay.” “We don’t want to leave you alone.” The words cause a stab of pain to my heart as I speak them. “I’m not defenseless!” she exclaims spiritedly. “I was alone before. I’ll be fine. Just come back for me when it’s over, okay?” “Sure thing, Shiver,” Ryan says. I get down and pull her into a tight hug. “Of course, the moment we’re able. Can you head back the way we came? This place isn’t safe.” “Will do,” she says determinedly. “I’ll hide in the willow forest.” I hug her one last time then release her from my grasp. Ryan collects his weapons then slips his hand around mine. My eyes meet his, and I suddenly feel like asking him to stay behind too. I don’t want anything to happen to him, but I’m also immensely glad that he’s with me. We slip through the forest like thieves closing in on their loot, and by the weak light of morning, we reach the desert. Ryan makes a noise at the back of his throat. “Now I’ve seen everything.” I shake my head. “That’s what I thought. Now I don’t think I’ll believe that again.” The sand is moving, rolling fitfully like waves on the ocean. Not an inch of sand is motionless. It gets tossed up and crashes down, waving side to side like an enormous snake is slithering beneath its grains. “We have to get to the middle of that?” he asks. “That’s what the lion said.”

Ryan taps the end of his bow against the ground. “If they’re watching, they’ll see us coming from a mile away. We’ll be dead before we even have a chance.” “Speak for yourself,” I joke. “I forgot you can fly.” “I can carry you,” I offer. “Thanks, but last time you gave me a ride, you dumped me on the ground. My neck was sore for almost two days.” “It wasn’t on purpose!” He shakes his head and gives me a skeptical look that melts into a grin before I can protest. “I promise I’ll be more careful this time.” “I’m sure you would be, but I’ll take my chances walking.” I cross my arms. “You first then.” He sighs. “I don’t think I’ve had enough sleep for this.” “No one really sleeps on Pandorma, ?” “Yeah, yeah.” He steps onto the sand ocean. And disappears. “Ryan!” I stare at the spot where he’d disappeared. There’s no point in calling his name again despite the urge to. I nervously chew the inside of my cheek, hoping he’ll pop up any second. He doesn’t. Dang it. Avoiding his mistake, I jump onto the sandy ocean. I’m immediately knocked off my feet. The sand rolls me around and around until a wave crashes over me. Seconds before I’m sucked under, I gasp in a breath and squeeze my eyes shut. Sand infests my clothes, sloshes around in my ears, and embeds itself in my nails as I desperately try to find my way up.

I’m thinking I’ll never get back to the surface, that maybe I’ll be pulled down to the center of the earth, when it spits me out. I gulp in deep, precious breaths of air. Out of nowhere, Ryan appears at my side. “You okay?” “Yeah,” I cough, wiping sand out of the corners of my mouth. We both release a cry of surprise as the ground violently rolls beneath us. In an instant, I’m on my back with Ryan on top. We’re unable to stop ourselves from rolling over each other as the sandy waves carry us several feet before impacting with another wave. We get showered with sand, and the sand below me is sucked under. I’m afraid we’ll get reeled beneath again, but Ryan grabs my waist, jerking me away from the suction and over it. We sit side by side, breathless, the sand incessantly billowing beneath us. Ryan knocks sand out of his ears and hair then squints into the distance. I follow his gaze and groan. How are we supposed to find one spot of still sand in this ocean? We quickly scramble to our feet and jump over an approaching wave. My knees buckle as the sand rolls beneath me, and then I’m back on the ground. Ryan sits next to me. “Maybe that one spot of sand is huge,” he says. “It’ll be interesting trying to find it, anyway.” “As long as we jump over the waves, we should be fine.” Ryan pats the sheath and sword handle then slides his fingers along the bow’s string, which hugs his chest. His feet nearly roll out from under him when he gets up. “It might be harder just staying on our feet.” The waves seem sudden. Unlike the constant rolling of the ground, they just appear. But Ryan is right. After a wave crashes, the sand is sucked under, and as long as we avoid that, we’ll be fine. Staggering and tripping, we use the distant borders to calculate where the center would be. The sun high in the sky, we hit the only section of sand that isn’t tossing. Instead

it spirals in a sluggish, whirlpool-like manner. “Are we sure this isn’t a trap?” Ryan asks. “No. But the lion seemed sincere enough, and it could be our best chance to make it in undetected. I’ll take this one first.” “Let’s do this one together.” Hands linked, we step into the sand. It swirls around our ankles. “The center of the center?” I suggest. “I don’t know. Maybe it is a trap.” Only one way to find out. Ryan starts to pull back, but I take a big step forward. Just like being sucked in by the portal, the sand draws me under, yanking Ryan with me.

Chapter 16

Goosebumps shiver across my arms as the sand turns cooler. I can’t hold my breath any longer and try to breathe in through my mouth so I don’t get sand up my nose, but my lungs fill with air. I can see nothing in the thick darkness, but the sensation of being encased in sand remains and I rub my arms. “Ouch.” I yank my foot out from under Ryan’s heavy boot. “Lissa? I can’t see a thing.” “Neither can I.” Jaguar. I can’t even pick up a glimmer of light. I take a step forward and bump into something. Oh dear—that felt like a butt. “Lissa.” He says it with a laugh, and I know that’s what it was. “Are you trying to—” “Stop. You know I can’t see.” Lissa. I turn away from the direction of his voice then, with outstretched arms, walk until I hit a wall. “That lion could’ve warned us it’d be blacker than a moonless night,” Ryan says, his words having a faint echo. “We didn’t exactly have time to go over all the details.” The wall gently curves then rounds off to a dead end. I flip directions. “Ryan, follow my voice. I’ve got the wall.” I hear noises first, like underwater thunder almost. Then we both catch a dot of dancing light. I stop, and Ryan bumps into me. Ryan steps around me and walks up to . . . What is it? A wall? Glass? A clear barrier separates the tunnel from the ocean. The barrier ripples gently from the water playing against it. I shake my head. Maybe lack of sleep has finally caught

up to us and we’re lucid dreaming. “Impossible,” I breathe. I reach out, but Ryan grabs my hand. “Don’t,” he says. “What if you fall through?” I stare at the endless stretch of deepening blue. I wouldn’t mind. And I’d love to know what’s down there. “Look up,” Ryan says. Several feet above the water roils with waves, and schools of bubbles wriggle their way back to the surface. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. I love the ocean. I love the way it moves, its mystery, and its world that is so different from that above. “Let’s keep moving.” Ryan takes my hand. I’d rather just sit here. I keep one eye on the ocean, hoping a whale or some other creature appears. But for the length of the tunnel, there’s only water. Darkness again blots out the world, and we shuffle along with one hand on the wall. The tunnel ends with a sludgy substance that smells like dirt and rotten leaves. “Man I wish we had a flashlight,” Ryan says. “Out must be through this stuff, right?” “That’d be my guess.” I wish the lion had warned us about this too. I stick my hands in, and my lip slightly curls. This is going to be like taking a bath in cool, thick mud. Best to just get it over with. I plunge in up to my shoulders then take a deep breath and dive in. This must be what it’s like to swim in molasses. Cool air touches my lips, and I come face to face with the tip of a branch. I wrestle out one arm and push back so I won’t get stabbed in the eye. Next to me, there’s an intake of air. I yank my other arm free and try to push myself out, but this only causes me to sink in. Ryan grumbles as he attempts to get out but only manages to sink as well.

I stop struggling. “Shh.” Between the zigzag of branches and leaves, I piece together snippets of a large creature. A horse? Two horses, draft horses from what I can tell. Their muscles strain, and after a moment, I see that they’re lugging a sizable wooden cart. The cart groans, the wheels pressing into the ground from the load. “What is it?” Ryan whispers. I forget that he can’t pick up everything I can. “It’s some horses pulling a wagon.” The horses keep their heads down, ears forward. “As long as we don’t make any loud noises, we should be good.” I grab a handful of small branches, and this works until they start to break off. Plodding steps alert of a second wagon, and it gives me an idea. “Ryan, we have to get out. If another wagon goes by, maybe we can hitch a ride.” With difficulty, he wades to the edge of this mud trap and, another wagon later, gets himself free. I follow the same route, but I must be lacking the same upper body strength because he has to pull me free. “Ugh.” The mucky substance doesn’t drip off. It clings. “At least our scents are disguised.” I sigh. The last wagon is being hauled by a sauropod, and the beast moves at an even slower pace than the exhausted horses. We creep to a closer bush, wait for the last wagon to pull farther ahead, and then dart after it. The rough boards drive splinters into my hands as I climb to the top and haul myself over. Chunks of reddish-brown rock lightly clatter together from our weight being dropped on them, but the sauropod gives no sign of having heard. We dig into a corner and hide ourselves under the rocks. “Do you think Medusa and Xavier will be around?” I whisper. “I hope not.” He shifts his weight so he can glimpse between one of the slats. “As long as they don’t have a rock, you’re good, right?”

I shake my head. “Shut up.” I roll a few rocks out from under me, but it doesn’t make things any more comfortable. “If things go wrong though, we just get out of here, okay? There’ll be other ways of defeating Medusa and Xavier.” I agree, but I don’t plan on letting things go wrong. We have one chance to get it right. “And if we have to fight, don’t forget you’re way more powerful than any of these animals. how you defeated those ugly dog animals.” “Bear dogs.” He wants me to that? I could’ve sworn he disapproved. Besides, something came over me then. It’s not something I can turn on. The wagon rattles along at such a slow pace that, despite being uncomfortable, I nearly fall asleep. The approaching noises and smells snap me awake. Peering through a slit, I stare in wonder as a variety of predators and prey move about what must be a clearing. There were several animals at Cobalt’s headquarters, but there are three times as many here. The wagon jolts, and I hold my breath. I fight off the desire to shift into a mouse or chipmunk. I jump as two massive, furry heads bang against the wagon. Where are we headed? It’s difficult to see much through the rocks, but the gaping darkness with thin trails of smoke pouring out brings the imagery of us being carted into the mouth of a dragon. Orange glows from the belly of the dragon, and it’s a moment after we’ve stopped before we warily slip out of our hiding spot. Smoke as thick and lazy as early morning fog twirls about, displaced by the bodies reshaping it. We climb down the side facing the wall. This is the only mountain that has activity so it must be Xavier’s headquarters, but the only scent I breathe in is the woody scent of the smoke. The fire they have going must be huge. I can’t see it because of the smoke, but it’s orange, flickering glow manages to break through the weaker patches of smoke. We move behind the other wagons, our final shield a large, elongated wooden box. The orange light casts eerily off the objects inside, demanding a closer inspection. Armor, shaped to fit any animal’s weaponry: claws, beaks, hooves, antler points, and teeth.

“This must be why Cobalt’s warriors are getting slaughtered,” Ryan murmurs. At a deafening clatter, I slap my hands over my ears and hunch over. The wagon of copper rocks has been tipped on its side. A gorilla and a fleet of other animals, mostly chimpanzees, sift through the rocks. Oh no. Not chimps. The thought of them ripping a person’s face off flashes through my mind. I shudder. Short-faced bear. “Hide behind me,” I tell Ryan. Keeping Ryan between the wall and myself, we leave our hiding spot. I’m sure we’ve been around more than half of the cavern with no sign of another opening. But unless Xavier uses another mountain as his headquarters, there must be a tunnel in here somewhere. Underground like with Cobalt and her caves. Finally, a lacey trail of smoke points to a stairway leading down. The steps are about two feet wide, five feet long, and sloppily layered with concrete. “Where did they get concrete?” Ryan asks. “Shh!” I hiss. We’re the only ones on the stairs, but I still feel the need for silence. A ageway opens to our left. A Tasmanian Devil and desert-brown rabbit pause their discussion as I . “Ever heard of taking a swim in a river? You reek, warrior,” the rabbit mocks, its nose twitching. I flick an ear and deepen my voice, “Not much time for swimming when we’re at war.” At the end of the steps, the main tunnel cuts into seven other tunnels. “Wonderful.” Ryan’s eyes take in each direction while I sift through scents, which are sparse but not stale. “Which way? Are you getting anything?” he asks. “Shh, not so loud. And no, but without the wind to stir scents up, it’s going to be difficult.” It feels like my brain has been power washed. I can’t think of any way to logically eliminate which tunnel might be more worthwhile to investigate—

scents are ing through my nose with blank cards as if I’m back at day one of training. Fear and urgency tick through my veins but are blocked from my head, allowing for a strange sense of calm. I pick the tunnel that extends farther than the others. “Um, let’s try this way.” Ryan hisses my name. “Sorry.” I hadn’t realized I was outpacing him. Sleeping den. That’s where the tunnel ends. It must be for the elite or animals in command. Not even half an army could fit in it. We turn back. This time, I study the ground until I find a tunnel that looks less used. “Let’s try this one,” I whisper. “What’s this?” a sharp female voice asks. A lynx. She analyzes my scent as she stalks closer but not too close, nose high in the air and whiskers stretching forward, prodding for more detailed information. The lynx flattens her ears and backs away. Her jaws part to warn of our invasion, but I blink and there’s an arrow in her chest. “You choose now to freeze?” Ryan says. “I’m sorry. I don’t even know what excuse I would have for you being here.” I grab the lynx by the scruff and carry her down the tunnel, pausing at the first door. I have to drop the lynx, but her scent is still stuck in my nose so I peek inside. Claws? Prehistoric, well, Earth prehistoric claws and teeth form two small piles. Ryan grabs my fur. “We don’t have time to investigate.” We pause at the next door. “Vanilla,” I whisper quietly. “Jeez, even I can smell it,” Ryan swipes a hand under his nose. He pushes the door, which swings inward, clapping shut behind us.

Piles and piles of mangled, can-sized chunks of white roots have been heaped across half of one side of the room. A stack of dead, dry flowers is in another corner, a heap of a crushed substance huddled beside it. “How long do they think this war is going to last?” Ryan comments. “Stay here and fill the backpack. I’m going to do some snooping.” “Lissa, no.” He firmly plants a hand on my side. “We found what we came for. Let’s get it and leave.” “This could be my only chance.” I promptly slip out the door. Fox. Only three tunnels left. I dart down each tunnel, turning back on the longer ones. The last is short but winding, a heavy-looking, sandstone red rock door at the end. That looks important. I creep up, only to flatten myself against the wall, the door nearly squashing me. A saber-toothed cat stalks out, its angry steps driving it down the path. I slip through the door just before it fastens back into place and veil myself in the nearest shadow. Cat. In the middle of the small room is a bulky, low-standing wood table. A small cabinet hangs on the wall behind. Fixed to the ceiling, above the table, hangs a large Eternal Flame. On one side, a bald eagle sits on top of the table, next to it is a giant cheetah, and on the other side is a dire wolf. At the head of the table, hunched over, stands a man. Xavier. It’s strange to finally see one of the people who has caused so much destruction. I half expected someone evil looking, maybe with a permanent sneer or an intriguing but menacing scar in just the right spot. Instead, this man looks completely normal, handsome almost. I watch too many movies. “Anyone else wish to leave?” His voice reveals a layer of darkness, and when he glances about the table, his remarkably dark green, soulless eyes send a cold

chill up my spine. He seems like the kind of man who could snap in an instant. A jagged scar traces from his elbow up his arm before being covered by his sleeve. Taller than Ryan but not as tall as Trevor, Xavier has a moderate build, but I can sense his strength. Must be how Dark sensed mine. The gathered creatures remain in their places. “With the new troops Medusa is bringing, this battle will be ours, and I expect a subsequent surrender from Cobalt,” Xavier says. “After that, the planet should be ours.” The eagle shakes its head. “There have been rumors of a female shifter of your kind.” His gaze darts around the table to the others. “It’s said that Cobalt’s surrender is only so that this other shifter can take over as alpha.” What? A sinister look clouds Xavier’s face and completely transforms it. I suppress a shudder. “She’s not a leader, Storfen,” Xavier snaps. “She’s a child. Any creature foolish enough to fall behind her is only putting a price on their head.” The bald eagle fixes him a piercing hunter’s stare before giving a single, forced nod, wings twitching once. Xavier claps his hands. “Glad to have that sorted out. The battle is in two days, once the sun has ed its peak. This time make sure every warrior is outfitted with armor, got it?” Xavier gathers a few pieces of paper then exits the room, freeing it of his suppressing presence. The animals’ heads track him. After the door closes, their relief is palpable. “If we don’t do something,” starts the wolf, his hushed words cutting with anger, “the next battle won’t be our last. If they have that female shifter fighting, using Earth animals won’t guarantee a win.” The animals freeze as if they expect Xavier to come blasting back in, the fate of their lives following closely behind. When the door remains shut, they let out a collective breath.

“What can we do?” the cheetah whispers heatedly. “At least the Earth animals guarantee more of our warriors survive. As Xavier said, she is only a cub.” “Better hope that cub can’t take out our alphas. Otherwise we’re next to die,” the wolf growls. A tense silence allows their ideas about this to play out then the cheetah flexes her shoulders and exits, the others following. I wait five seconds before coming out of my hiding spot. Lissa. I nearly let my hands rest on the table then pull back at the last second, not wanting to leave prints of my scent. They think I’m going to take Cobalt’s place? I shake my head and let my eyes roam over the papers lying on the it. A list of earth animals depicts the number of them collectively, what kind of animal and how many of that kind. The animals at the top of the list and most numerous are bears, large cats, elephants, and rhinos. As if Earth wasn’t short on animals already, now they’re going to be mass murdered. I purse my lips. They couldn’t possibly want to teach Earth animals how to kill Pandorma creatures. Unless they’re going to use Earth animals as a shield. Our warriors would have to waste energy killing the shield animals instead of the real threat. I scan other papers: a list containing the number of finished weapons, a list of warriors, and a description of every seized land on Pandorma and its immediate treasures on the backside. I rifle through more of the papers but see nothing else that strikes me as important. They are way more coordinated than Cobalt. A corner of thick paper with a scribbled line looks promising. I quickly unbury the mess of papers to reveal an intricate map of Pandorma. I trace red lines. Could be land they control. Two land masses—the one Ryan and I stand on and the one in the bottom right corner—are circled with red ink, plus a few other locations. Every place is clearly named and sketched. I lean closer and squint to read the small print on the continent to the left. Bombs? No way. How could they possibly have bombs? And why? They’re already winning. I read it again, but my eyes weren’t playing tricks on me. The bombs are located in what looks like what could be desert or maybe savannah. I scrutinize over the rest of the map for more bombs and find two more sites.

I groan inwardly. How can we collect them all before they can be used? I startle at a distant thump. I need to move faster. I cross over to the cupboard and pull open the door. The bottom shelf has a small pile of blank papers and one full inkwell. The top contains two piles of books and two three-inch high boxes. I shuffle through the books. Several are on military strategy. One is about lycanthropy. Just as I crack open the book, the door creaks. I shove the book back in its place. Cat. I jump into the cupboard, claw the door shut, and peek through a sliver between the doors. The cheetah stalks in. It sniffs the air, tail tip twitching and spine ramrod straight. On silent paws, its sleek body moves toward the cupboard. I shrink back, my rapid breaths tickling the papers I’ve ducked behind. The cheetah noses open the door a little. I picture a thin, tiny snake. Though my brain is frozen by panic, my body responds to the command, and I shrink into a snake. I hear the air rush into the cheetah’s nostrils. It gets the cupboard doors open and noiselessly places its paws on the edge of the cupboard. With care, it rummages through the things inside. My body curves around the inkwell, and I let myself plummet over the edge. My body makes a soft plop when it hits the ground, and the cheetah’s whole body goes still. I hurriedly slither around a blocky table leg. The cheetah settles itself back on the ground and places its nose exactly where my body fell. Darn. This place isn’t exactly brimming with hiding places. “Livid! Have you gotten the papers yet?” The dire wolf appears in the doorway, his fur standing on end in anger. “Do you smell that?” she hisses. The wolf’s nose barely moves. “Xavier always smells like that.” “I’m talking about the other scent, you bird,” the cheetah snaps. The dire wolf bares its teeth. “We can send a warrior back to sniff around.

Xavier will have both our lives if we’re not back out there this instant!” Although the wolf’s bark is furious, it can’t conceal the underlying fear. Livid grits her teeth before jerkily moving to the table. She collects some papers, carefully slipping them into a slim leaf sack the wolf has picked off the floor. She slides the strap around her neck, and the two trot away. Their anger doesn’t leave with them, trapped inside the room by the door. Lissa. I stand, my knees somewhat shaky from that close call. Seconds tick away with the beat of my heart. I have to move faster. I reopen the cupboard. I train my eyes on the two green boxes—probably made from those sticky leaves—between the stacks of books. Each box has one word inked on the side: one reading Battles, the other, Plans. I take the second box. As I’m taking it off the shelf a pile of books topple over. Of all the times . . . Hastily, I stack them into a pile while simultaneously reading the titles. One catches my eye, and I reread it to make sure I read it correctly the first time. Penned across the cover is: Experiments, Results & Future. M. M as in Medusa? Definitely a keeper. I open the lid of the box and slap the book on top. The rest of the books are worthless. I put the box under my arm and cautiously open the door. I run down the hall and carefully peek around the corner. The Smilodon that left the room earlier is sitting with a female lion and an ibex, their heads bent closely together. It’s impossible to get back to Ryan without ing them. Grr. Nothing about this plan is going smoothly. I bunch up my hair to one side and twist it as I promptly think up a plan. First, hide the box. Badger. I furiously carve a hole big enough to fit the box. Lissa. I cover the box up and smooth over the dirt so that it’s even. I close my eyes. Please let this work.

Leopard. I’m not sure how good my acting skills are but hopefully good enough to be convincing. I pant a few breaths then dash around the corner. Their heads jerk up. “Oh, thank goodness I found you!” I exclaim in gasps, permitting my legs to quiver from the real fear coursing through my body. “What’s wrong?” the Smilodon’s voice reeks of distrust, but I ignore it. “There’s been a—a breach! Enemy warriors are attacking! Xavier ordered everyone above!” “Who are you?” the lioness hisses. She stalks around me, carefully sniffing my pelt. She turns to the Smilodon. “This creature’s scent is unfamiliar. She should be locked away and questioned. Only one intruder was heard of being caught, and we know there were two reported at an earlier time.” “Lock me up then, but the intruders were only a diversion! Now we’re under attack!” I screech for extra measure. “Untrained warrior,” mutters the ibex. The Smilodon ignores the ibex’s remark and demands, “What sector?” “Uh . . .” Great. “Sector . . . Ocean?” “Severely under trained,” growls the ibex. “You mean sector underwave.” “Yes, that one. Now sound the alarm! Bring out the army!” I quickly snap my jaws shut before any more lines come out. The Smilodon flicks his ear before instructing, “We’ll go assess the enemy.” His olive-sun yellow eyes turn on me. “You go tell Brynth to be on alert and have the pack warriors ready.” I nod vigorously as they take off up the stairs. I wait a moment before charging back to Ryan. I slam the door open with my shoulder, nearly sending Ryan out of his skin.

“Where the heck have you been, Lissa? I was about to go look for you.” “I found some things that could be important, but we have to get out of here now. I saw Xavier,” I tell him as we’re moving through the tunnel. “What?” Ryan stops right there, and I zoom past him. “Come on. He was having a meeting. I found a box and a book but I had to bury them—” I slide to a stop past the freshly dug earth. “You’re not making much sense.” He falls to his knees and claws away the dirt opposite me. His fingers seem to be moving more dirt than my cat claws so I take my human form. “I know. We just—” I shake my head. My skin is tingling so annoyingly that I wish I could peel it off, the hairs standing on end, it’s as if my body is picking up an invisible, looming threat. I glance up at him, but instead of catching his eye, I notice the flex of his arm muscles. Focus, I snap. My fingers brush the box first, and we yank it out. Ryan tucks the box under his arm. The wide steps prevent us from taking them two at a time. “We’re going to need a distraction, or else we’re not getting far,” he says between breaths. “Fall back. I’ve got an idea.” Leopard. I race out of the mountain then think twice and dive back to the obscuring smoke inside the mountain. Moving to keep from being pinpointed, I bellow at the top of my lungs, “We’re under attack! Run! Fight! We’re under attack!” I race back and forth a couple more seconds, screeching the words like a broken record. Panic ensues, just as I’d hoped. Animals race about, looking for the nonexistent enemy while relaying the message and furthering the chaos. Going back down the stairs, the rabbit suddenly zips past me, and I pounce, hit my head on the wall. What am I doing?

The Tasmanian devil tries to barricade Ryan from going up the stairs. Ryan draws his sword, but the devil anticipates his movements and dodges the blows. Picking up on my approach, the Tasmanian devil utters a snort and dashes back into the cavern. Coils of smoke roll down the steps, and we’re coughing before we reach the top of the stairs. Lissa. Our hands locked together, Ryan keeps his free hand on the wall and guides us out of the mountain. Tears stream down my cheeks as I bend over, coughing and wheezing. A large shadow flits across the ground. I snap around in time to see a giant golden eagle swooping down, its razor-sharp gaze locked on us. We duck, and it’s then I realize we’ve blown our cover. Other hostile eyes are taking note of us as well. I run a few feet and jump, picturing the giant golden eagle. I cut a sharp turn, barely inches from the ground. As I sweep past Ryan, he hops on. I bank up sharply, and his knees dig into my sides. An object rams into my left wing, and I tip dangerously sideways. I whip my head around, glaring into the sage-colored eyes of an eagle. Suddenly, we aren’t alone in the air. Five other large eagles crisscross above, while a dragon flies below. I do a double take. Dragon! With talons, four legs, long tail and neck, and bat-like wings, it definitely looks like a version of a dragon. The dragon is the color of a lion’s mane and about the size of a small car. “Dragon?” Ryan shouts. Above the eagles gather in a loose formation and the split second before they start dive-bombing, I wish we were fighting on the ground. The sky is too open, and my only training in sky fighting is when we fought those weird disappearing creatures. I twist and turn, make abrupt halts, and nearly throw Ryan off more than once, simply trying to avoid the onslaught. Ryan’s legs dig in, grating flesh against my ribs, and his weight shifts. There’s a gurgled screech, and a bird spirals to the ground, an arrow in its chest. Seconds

later, another bird follows it down, an arrow in its head. The dragon dips away, out of my sight. I’m too exposed up here. My wings start to lock up. Don’t panic. “Hold on,” I say. Ryan clutches the base of my wings tighter as I climb almost directly upward, trying to evade something I can’t see but sense. The whole lower portion of my body seems to get shoved up into my lungs, forcing out the air in them. My beak parts in a soundless cry. Head over tail, Ryan’s weight disappears, and I glimpse him falling as I tailspin before leveling off. I bank sharply and snap in my wings, allowing myself to fall at a pace that makes my blood scream. An eagle rockets ahead of me, its eyes locked on Ryan, its prey. Its wings press tighter to its side, and it falls still faster. I mimic it. The air whizzing through my ears blocks out everything but my pounding heart, and all I can see is the boy falling to earth.

Chapter 17

I shoot past Ryan and spread out my wings. Like a parachute, I instantly slow, Ryan colliding with my back. Shoved down by the impact, I battle to retain my balance. And as Ryan rights himself, I nearly flip over. The other eagle swoops beneath me, so close it ruffles my stomach feathers and clips my wing as it abruptly veers upward. Feathers no longer blocking my vision, I inhale panic. Trees and their imposing web of branches claim the landscape, and it’s too late to change course. The forest swallows us. Branches catch and scrape my wings, tearing out feathers and leaving their mark on my skin. I turn sideways seconds before running head-on into a tree trunk, swerving rapidly milliseconds later. In erratic patterns, I navigate the dangerous maze, narrowly missing tree trunks and low-hanging branches. A large patch of sun offers a door to freedom. I jet out of the binding forest and extend my wings to their limit, relishing the air beneath them. A breathtaking disarray of sharp-ridged mountainous cliffs and deep gullies posing as veins break the conformity of mountains and trees. “This isn’t over yet,” Ryan breathes. I twist my neck around. The eagles and dragon have regrouped. It’d be really helpful if Ryan could shift right now. No, I can’t allow myself to think that way. “Pull away!” He shifts his weight to the right. An eagle’s talons graze across my wing feathers. Ryan’s knees hook into my ribs as a screech marks another bird’s death. “Three down, four to go,” he says. “Uh, how about the dragon?” I ask breathlessly. It tracks us from the jagged arm of a mountain cliff.

“Pull up close to it. I can keep it busy while you go after the eagles.” “Are you insane?” Ryan doesn’t respond, and I clack my beak with annoyance. I bank violently, and as I draw closer, the dragon arches its wings and grumbles a warning. “Slow down,” Ryan says, a simple ask that proves difficult to execute smoothly. The black slits in the dragon’s eyes narrow further, and my instincts warn that I need to get out of its path now. But I’ve had to mock a landing to get Ryan close enough to the ground and his shifting then disappearing weight tips me off balance. I have no chance of avoiding the dragon’s breath of fire, only minimalizing how much it burns. Heat sears my left wing and some of my stomach, but I can’t pause to assess the damage. The eagles are closing in. Time to get rid of them. Lighter, I propel myself upward, and locating a current of air, I ascend at a thrilling speed. I blast through clouds, scattering their fluffy shapes into hundreds of cotton balls. The eagles circle at a distance, plotting. One cloud in the sky is gigantic, probably thick enough to get lost in. Like entering a dense fog, I’m able to throw the eagles off my tail after a few maneuvers. I slow my pace as I exit the cloud. Relaxing into a current of air, I let it take me in slow circles and wait. Below, an eagle exits the cloud. I lock onto my target, fold my wings, and let gravity do the rest. Seconds away, I thrust out my wings and extend my talons. They drive deep into the eagle’s flesh, crunching bone and killing it instantly. I pick out my claws and release the gorgeous creature. Another beautiful creature dead—what a waste of life. The thump of wings alerts me to the remaining three eagles closing in. The nearest one lunges with outstretched talons, and I twist to lock talons with it. I

aim for its chest but yank out little more than feathers. With the ground fast approaching, the eagle tries to pull away, but I keep my talons locked. It screeches its anger, and when it goes for my leg, I snap its neck and unlock my talons. A thunderous growl trembles the air. I whip around. Ryan is skillfully battling the dragon, but it doesn’t look like he’ll last much longer. The dragon’s teeth and fire keep missing him but only narrowly—it won’t be long before they hit their mark. I’m so tired I could fall out of the sky. Storing the weariness for later, I change course. One of the eagles calls out, attracting the dragon’s attention. Just at the edge of the cliff, I land, the eagles swooping around the dragon before preparing their attack. The dragon lets loose a stream of flames at Ryan then snakes toward me. I hold my ground, wait for the eagles to be in line and flames to lick at the dragon’s mouth. I jump to the side, then fall over the edge. Embers dance in the sky, and a burning eagle body whirls down into the deep gully. I fly back up the cliff face to see Ryan slicing the thin flap of skin at the base of the dragon’s wing. The dragon bellows in fury as Ryan sprints toward me. I slow in order to land, but he springs onto my back. “I could’ve landed you know. You didn’t have to go jumping through the air with the ground hundreds of feet below.” I cock my head. Ironically and somewhat annoyingly, he’s smiling. “I learned from the best,” he says simply. I snort then look back to make sure we’re not being pursued. The injured dragon is inspecting its wing. The eagle rests on a boulder, rubbing the burned side of its face with its wing. It pauses to watch us leave, eyes glinting with fury. “The box is down there,” Ryan says.

“Huh?” I follow the direction of his finger back to the forest where he had nearly fallen to his death. “You dropped it?” “Hey, if you had been falling to your death, you’d drop it too.” “You didn’t drop your bow,” I point out. He makes a noise of exasperation. “The bow was in my hand, but the box was under my arm. So when my arms flew out, like everybody’s do when they’re falling, the box fell.” “All right, all right.” I glide away from the cliffs, riding currents of air to expend as little energy as possible and land where I believe the box could be. Lissa. Ryan stares up at the sky then walks over to one spot and begins poking around. “Was the lid on tight?” “It was just a slap on lid. Why—” I groan. Great. Now we have to gather all the papers. I turn in a small circle. Not a speck of white. Ryan picks up a perfectly unbeaten box then grabs the lid hanging from a branch above. My exhausted muscles protest every step I take. “Maybe you could just use your superpower and sniff them out?” he jokes as we start scavenging the woods. “Uh, no. No, I’m not going to go sniffing out however many papers. Also, it’s not a superpower.” “It could be. It’s something incredible that no one else can do.” “Xavier and Medusa can both shift like me. And it doesn’t feel so incredible right now. Every part of my body hurts.” My stomach burns as if cut open and

coals buried inside it. A quick scan of Ryan’s body conveys no wounds, and though he gives off the scent of pain, it’s not strong. I try to shut off the prickly thoughts coming from the back of my mind, but the mind is a rebellious place. “You rest, okay?” He takes off his quiver and the backpack. “Drink some of the healing water. I bet that will help.” I purse my lips and walk away from him. I don’t need healing water. I need food. But there’s no time to hunt and nothing to hunt from the smell of things. “It’ll go faster with both of us looking.” His hand lightly touches my shoulder, and with the other hand, he holds out the healing water. “You’re hurt. You need to rest and recover. Just for a bit.” I close my eyes and press my thumb and forefinger to my eyebrows. Rest and recover. There’s danger behind us and danger ahead of us. I take the healing water from him. “Only five or ten minutes.” Ryan tucks a strung-out curl behind my ear. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help more. I would’ve taken all the hits,” he says, enveloping me in a hug. Sparks of pain shoot through my chest, but my angry, snippy heart melts and I don’t tell him to let go. My arms are too weak to hug him back, but I rest my head in the spot next to his shoulder and lean against him. He kisses my head and pulls me in tighter so that our bodies are pressed together. I wince. For such a sweet gesture, it’s awfully painful. “I’ll find those papers. Okay?” Ryan tilts my head back and searches my eyes. His eyes fall to my lips. I look away. “Okay.” Reluctantly, we pull away from each other. I pick a spot in a cradle of tree roots and balance the healing water on my knee. I peel back the lid. The small container is a little less than half full of its miraculous substance. “I can’t rely on you to fix me, I won’t always have you,” I breathe down to its calm face. I re-stick the lid and tilt my head back and look up into the million green eyes of the tree.

I squint and stand. Farther up is a square brown object. The journal. The weariness fades away, and I quickly scale the tree to the branch the journal hangs on. My fingers skim the leather edge. I scoot farther out, the branch creaking with warning. I grab a corner between two fingers and manipulate it closer. I only have to move out a little bit farther to be able to grasp it. There’s a crack beneath me, and then I lurch forward. Cat. Tiny branches snag my fur, but I hit the ground unscathed. There’s a soft thump beside me. Lissa. I reach for the book but pause. I arch my fingers backward. Grime and dried blood has not limited itself to my fingernails. It lines the crevices of my hands, and dirt flaunts a thin, patchy layer up my arms. I bite my lip and take in the rest of my body. My ankle throbs from the eagle bite, the skin on part of my arm is red, and lifting my shirt, there’s more tender, red skin on my stomach. My muscles feel raw, as if stripped from my flesh, beaten, and then sewed back on. A tear slips out, but I wipe it away. I cover my eyes and take a few deep breaths. I need to calm down. I don’t want Ryan to come back and find me bawling. I brush off the cover of the journal and crawl back to the nest of tree roots. The first page is an index. That’s useful. Although, this is the first journal I’ve seen that has an index. I bet that says something about her. There are only four titles: Profitable Locations, Experiments, Outline, General. Experiments sounds like a good place to start. “I have come up with an ingenious idea. I was researching werewolves and . . .” Researching werewolves? How many of them are there, exactly? I skip over the useless sentences to further down. “I believe with Iru’s intellect, a beautiful specimen, and a little incentive, he could create a formula that will give average people the ability to shift into wolves. Once the potion has been proven successful and is infused into specific, handpicked (by yours truly) people, we’ll employ these useful creatures to fight for us. No creature will dare oppose me again. § Note to self: natural ww are never off limits. ☺”

Smiley face? I put my hand to my forehead and massage small circles. So this Iru, is trying to create a formula that will turn regular people into werewolves? Doesn’t sound like something people are volunteering for. What the heck is going on here? It feels like I’m only getting more and more in over my head. I open one door, thinking everything will be solved and put to rest, and instead I find more doors that I don’t have the key to or they’re cracked open enough that I can get a glimpse but not see everything clearly. I push my fingers through my hair and sigh. There’s nothing of interest on the rest of this page or the next. “Results have been unyielding. I have insisted to Iru that he keep trying. He wants to experiment with animals and see if they can acquire werewolf traits with better success. I forbade him to try such frivolous experiments, but I feel he is doing so anyway. This will need to ultimately be fixed. Once one creature starts to disobey, others soon follow. I wish they were like Earth animals. Those animals don’t even have a brain to function beyond basics.” They’re experimenting on Earth animals too? I read through the rest of the page, which only mentions more information on the results and procedures. I flip the page over, but it and the one next to it are blank. “How many papers were there?” Ryan asks. My head snaps up at his voice. “I don’t know. I just grabbed the box without looking in.” I close the journal and stand. “Let me see.” He hands it over, and I lift the lid. It’s less than half full of papers. I place the journal on top. That looks right, but then again, I only glimpsed inside for a few seconds. The pages aren’t numbered, so we’ll never know if we have all of them. “I found three of my arrows as well. I hope I didn’t lose many. We need to get some food and find a protected spot, get some sleep,” Ryan says. “Here?” He nods. I shake my head. “We can’t stay here. It’s too dangerous.”

“We might actually be safer here. They’ll expect us to move on and won’t look for us close by.” “No, I don’t want to be anywhere near here. We have to travel across the bit of ocean anyway because Cuven said. We can sleep and eat over there.” I hold out the healing water and he takes it. “Are you up for that?” I loosely fold my arms across my stomach. “Of course.” Ryan fits the healing water into the backpack then hangs the straps on his shoulders, one shoulder sharing space with the quiver. He turns back around and holds my gaze, and its then I notice the weariness behind his eyes—and something else I can’t quite name. A bruise is beginning to develop along his jawbone. “Let’s keep moving then,” he says. I hand him the box, and he tucks it under his arm. Dragon. This should make carrying him much easier. I wait patiently as he gently climbs on. As I cock my wings to take off, tears blur my vision. Not taking any healing water might be the dumbest decision I’ve made yet. Soon after taking to the sky, the sun begins to tint the clouds with its colorful rays. A soft, pumpkin orange flows into an apricot pink that spirals into brilliant pinks and reds. The bottoms of clouds nearest the sunset reflect the radiance, making the mass of colors blossom across the land below. If I could only build my home in the sky. I don’t think I could ever get tired of a view like this, high enough to see the contours of the land but not so high I couldn’t pick out larger details. “Look at those clouds,” Ryan says. “You do know the sky is full of clouds right now, right?” I tease. “I mean those.” He leans forward so I can see where he’s pointing. To the right, a massive bunch of clouds sweep across the sky. It looks like they

might even touch the ground. They look fun to scatter. I veer toward them. Anticipating the chill that comes with bursting clouds at this height, I tuck my legs closer to my body. Instead of being water vapor, they’re solid—like thick whipped cream. My head and shoulders get stuck, and my wings flap around wildly. Cloud fluff goes up my nose, and I sneeze twice. Ryan cracks up, even though he has to cling to my back so he won’t fall off. His boots press against my shoulder blades. Then he’s no longer on my back. For a second, I worry he’s fallen, but I listen closely and pick up his heartbeat. He’s above me. I dig my legs into the cloud and yank my head out. I sneeze once more and bits of cloud fall off. Farther up, Ryan’s toes are digging at the cloud, the upper half of his body inside the cloud. He soon disappears. The top isn’t far. I scale up the side and onto the flat surface. Lissa. “Ryan?” I walk over to the rounded edge. The clouds tumble and rise for some distance, like a massive bowl of melted marshmallows. I wonder if they actually go all the way to the ground. “Heads up!” Ryan shouts joyfully. I half turn when he runs past me and jumps off the edge. My mouth drops open and I’m going to shout his name, but I stop myself. He rolls and bounces until he hits a flat area. His weapons, backpack, and the box are gone. He must’ve stashed them somewhere. “Come on!” he shouts. “You’re crazy!” I laugh and bounce on the balls of my feet. The cloud is springy, and it felt extra soft when I was climbing up it. I bounce a few more times, getting my feet off the ground, then jump over the side, my heart racing. A shriek of delight builds up in my chest and cannot be held back as the thrill and fear of freefalling surges through my skin and down my spine. As I near the ground, I curl into a ball. I tumble down to the bottom and roll past Ryan.

“Fun right?” he asks. I throw back my head and laugh. “Like a rollercoaster off its track.” He grabs my hand, and we run, this time jumping off the edge together. As we near the bottom, he puts his arms together in dive formation. He disappears into the cloud, creating a splash of cloud fluff. I close my eyes and let my body roll to a gradual stop. When I open my eyes again, Ryan hasn’t yet appeared. Can you drown in a cloud? I could certainly breathe, though I wasn’t breathing in only air. A minute es before his head appears. When he spots me, he grins. As I make my way over to him, he pulls himself out. “You’ve got cloud fluff all over you.” I rub my cheeks. I’m smiling so hard they’re starting to hurt. He looks down at himself and chuckles. He picks some off and flicks it at me, but it floats up before drifting down. “I can’t believe you missed. I’m less than a foot away!” I tease. “Come closer, and I won’t miss a second time.” I take one step and pick some cloud fluff off his shirt. “I think . . . you’ll have to catch me.” I toss the fluff so that it will bounce off his nose then dash away. Ryan quickly overtakes me, and as I dart across his path to trick him, he trips over my heel. I cover my mouth to stop myself from laughing. “That was a rotten move,” he says. “It wasn’t on purpose!” “Sure it wasn’t. Help me up.” I take his outstretched hand, but instead, he pulls me down. I sink into the cloud, and pieces of cloud billow up into my face.

“Ryan!” I push myself up. He props himself up on his elbow then reaches over and picks some fluff out of my hair. He tosses it, and it bounces off my cheek. I scoop up a handful, intending to drop it on his head, but he catches my wrist. Using my arm, he reels me in closer until we’re almost touching. He lets go of my wrist, and his hand slides across my cheek, his fingers traveling across my jaw and into my hair. He stretches toward me. I wait for my fears to come storming in, but they’re oddly silent. Maybe quelled by the desire in his eyes? Or maybe that’s the feeling burning in my heart. I lean in. His lips touch mine gently, uncertainly. My breath hitches. Here I thought the whole fireworks thing was a myth, but I can feel the sparks on my lips. Is this what it feels like to know, not in the heart or the body, but someplace deeper, that we are meant to be? I pull back. His eyes reflect my soul. I touch his cheek, my thumb tracing his jawline. My heart would forever belong to him.

Chapter 18

While making our way down the clouds, I fill Ryan in on everything I heard and saw while he was loading the backpack with the root. The clouds stop three feet from the ground, never touching as far as I can see, and by the time we reach the point we can get off them, night has claimed the sky. But this doesn’t deter me from hunting. Our next priority is water, and I locate a stream running out of a forest so that we can find a place to sleep after we’ve eaten. As Ryan finishes off his meat, I kneel by the stream again, cupping water and scrubbing at the dirt on my arms. An owl hoots then goes silent before responding to a distant hoot. “What I don’t get is, why use bombs?” Ryan says. “They’re already winning the war. Seems like overkill.” I shrug. “Who knows. It’s Medusa and Xavier. I don’t think they need a reason to cause more destruction.” I hover over him until he’s finished eating then take the backpack. The trees of this forest are huge. The massive trunks have vines knotted around them, and the roots run above the ground for several feet before plunging underground completely. “This sure is a beautiful night,” he says as he takes my hand. It’s not a dark night. There’s a grayness tainting the blackness so that it isn’t true black. The clouds less than a half mile away, holding and reflecting moonlight, could be the source, but I can’t be sure. “It smells good too,” I say. “Like the ocean and tree bark.” “Just smells like air to me.” I smile and pull him closer to me. “That tree looks okay.” He guides me over to a tree that dips inward, creating a

small, semi-protected hollow. “Maybe we should climb it.” I chew on the inside of my lip. The limbs don’t start until high up. Flying would be the easiest option, though the least appealing. “That would take all night.” He takes off his weapons and props them against a root. I drop the backpack next to the box. “Okay, but I’m warning you now—when I fall asleep, I’m going to be out, so chances are I won’t hear any danger. If we get mauled, it’s not my fault.” He snorts and takes me into his arms. “I’ll take first watch.” “Yeah right. I can hear your heart slowing down already.” “Hm?” He snuggles closer to me. I sigh and lean against him. Well, these roots will at least shield us a bit so that we won’t be spotted right away. I twist inward so I’m facing more toward Ryan. I should really get some sleep too so we can get an early start. I bet I’d hear anything approaching. I’m sure if they were intent on chasing us down, they would’ve sent warriors after us by now. I slowly exhale, tentatively rest my hand on Ryan’s chest, and breathe in his scent.

Boom. I frown and blink heavy eyelids. Boom. What is that? I rub my eyes vigorously to erase the sleep. At some point, Ryan and I moved, and now my side is pressed into the tree’s bark, which bites into my skin. I sit up then wince. Oh my gosh. Why does my body hurt this much? I mornings where Ryan could barely move he was so sore, whereas I have benefited from my healing ability and my cases of sore muscles have been

mild. Did yesterday’s fight really take that much out of me? Boom. This heavy thud wakes me up more fully. I clamber away from Ryan’s warm body and glance around. Boom. My stomach sinks. Only one thing could make such a terrifying noise. Weak light breaks through the moderately thick canopy of leaves. Birds squawk and fly away. Boom. I get down on my knees next to Ryan and gently shake his shoulders. “Wake up,” I hiss. Boom. It’s gotten much louder in the past few seconds. It’s traveling fast and definitely headed our way. Ryan mumbles something about cake but continues sleeping. I shake him harder, and his eyes crack open. “What is it?” “Shh.” Though he looks more awake, his body droops forward, and he rubs one eye. “I think there’s a T. Rex,” I whisper hoarsely. A curse slips off Ryan’s tongue, and he extends his arm for his weapons but pauses, his jaw going slack, his lips forming a silent word. Behind me, a tree groans terribly, crashing to the earth with a resounding thud. I swallow, not really wanting to face the thing behind me, but I force myself to turn. I fall back onto my heels, ing myself with one hand on the ground. Its dark eyes glint with triumph. It then throws back its head and releases a thunderous roar.

“Hold still, and it won’t see us,” Ryan says. Him saying this is like a slap, and I spring to my feet. Horse. “Get on!” Ryan takes a fistful of my mane, and I shove him onto my back with my snout then take off through the trees. “My weapons,” he says through gritted teeth. The ground quakes with the pound of the Rex’s feet, the vibrations growing stronger and stronger. “It’s gaining on us!” Ryan shouts. Hot breath explodes across my back end, sending a shot of fear up my spine. I cut a sharp turn around a tree then again and again, hoping to throw the Rex off, but it doesn’t work. How is this thing keeping pace with me? My lungs feel like they’re breathing in and out simultaneously, and my muscles warn that soon they’ll be running on willpower alone. I abandon zigzagging and instead keep a desperate eye out for another way to evade the Rex. “Look out!” Ryan calls. A T. Rex crashes through the trees ahead of us, growling like the thunder of the sky. I stop—too fast. My legs buckle. Ryan jumps off seconds before I roll over him. Boom. I’m trampolined into the air, narrowly missing being squashed by the Rex’s foot. I scramble to my hooves. My eyes bulge as the Rex’s jaws close in—those teeth look way bigger than a banana. I scurry backward, turn on my back hooves, and race between the two Rexes, barely escaping their jaws. I charge past Ryan, slowing just enough so he can grab my neck and swing onto my back. A promising glimpse of the end of the forest provides me with a burst of speed. I break out of the forest with a toss of my head. A large herd of sauropods and

triceratops are munching on the grass, and several bellow quizzically as I charge past. “We haven’t lost them yet,” Ryan yells. What? I shove my hooves against the ground, nearly vaulting Ryan over my head. Breathing heavily, I watch as the Rexes scan the now fleeing herd. The larger Rex’s eyes pick me out, and it gives a triumphant roar. I whip around and run with the heard while trying not to run into them. A young adult sauropod trips and falls in my path. I cleanly jump over it without breaking my stride. “I thought T. Rex ambushed its prey, not chased it down,” Ryan shouts. Yeah, I thought so too. Ryan leans to the right, and my body instantly responds. Avoiding any crashes, I skid to a halt where the grass meets sandy beach, and Ryan jumps off. Lissa. The Rexes are still chasing the herd, though the bigger one has slowed. Ryan grabs my hand and leads us into the water flanking the beach. My shoes sink into the squishy earth and soak in the chilly water. We wade deeper and deeper until the calm waves brush the edge of my mouth, the taste of salt seeping in between my lips. “Wait.” I plant my heels into the soil. The water is relatively clear so far, but it’s becoming progressively murky. “This is far enough.” “The farther out we are, the safer we’ll be. They can’t swim.” “Safety is not guaranteed, and I don’t want to go any farther.” “We have to. They’ll be able to reach us from here,” he insists. “At least we won’t be risking an attack from megalodon.” He fights off a smile. “That huge shark in a narrow inlet like this? We can see the other side. Come on, before they spot us.” Ryan tugs, forcing one wooden leg to take a step. A handful of anxious

butterflies drop into my stomach, and I snap my hand out of his. “No, I . . . I can’t.” “Why? There’s nothing to be afraid of.” He reaches for me, but I inch away. “I’m still afraid.” “I told you—” “No.” I close my eyes and inhale. I’d rather not it my fear, especially when the basis for it is my imagination. It’s too easy to imagine things swimming around, waiting to attack, or worse, latch onto my skin. “I’m afraid of not being able to see what’s beneath me, of the things lurking in the water.” Palms open, I throw my hands up. “Nope, I won’t go any farther.” He gently places his hands on my shoulders and looks me in the eye. “Fish are most likely the only things in the water.” “What about the things that eat the fish?” His eyes slide behind me before coming back to mine. “I’ve got your back. Plus you could top anything swimming below.” “Not until it’s too late,” I mutter. Ryan smiles and plants a quick kiss on my cheek. “You can do this,” he says quietly then swims away. Not wanting there to be too much space between us, I force my stiff legs to follow. My head dips into the water when my next step doesn’t reach the ground. I snort water out of my nose. There’s nothing in the water. I pace my breathing, stretch my arms out, swim after Ryan. Nothing but fish. I keep telling myself these thing as we swim parallel to the land, back to the forest. The thunderous pound of footsteps makes me look over my shoulder. A T. Rex catapults itself into the water. A giant wave races at me, and I grab a breath just as it knocks me under. I claw my way to the surface and gasp, only to be pounded in the face.

When my head breaks the surface again, I spit out water. Before I can blink the water from my eyes, a hand briefly covers my mouth, followed by a whispered shh. A strong arm wraps around my waist and pulls me sideways. I blink the water from my eyes to see Ryan’s worried face, his eyes asking if I’m okay. I nod. I turn slightly and realize we are hidden behind a rock, waves angrily lapping against the front. Ryan carefully glances around the edge then pulls back after a few minutes. He gestures forward and swims with his head just above the surface. Before following, I peek around the rock. Both Rexes are shuffling through the water. The larger T. Rex speaks to the other one. It responds then they widen their circle. Keeping my strokes low and quiet, I follow in Ryan’s wake. When we are a good distance from the T. Rexes, we move to shallower water and walk with our shoulders grazing the surface. “That was close. Those things were on steroids or something.” “They could be.” Ryan gives me a skeptical look. “Animals on steroids? Here?” “Pandorma animals kind of are on steroids, in a way. But I wouldn’t put it past Xavier and Medusa to give them something extra. That’s nothing though. In Medusa’s journal, she wrote about trying to turn people into werewolves.” “What?” Oh, I forgot to fill him in on that part. “I didn’t get to read much on it. We really need to get that journal back. And the backpack. I hope it wasn’t damaged.” “I feel like the closer we get to Medusa and Xavier, the less we understand.” “That makes two of us.” The edge of the forest brushes against a gravelly shore. Gnarled tree roots have been exposed by the countless waves washing against the shore. I pick up the pace, sloshing through the maze to dry ground. My waterlogged shoes squish

annoyingly with every step. I stop. I use Ryan to keep balanced as I pull off my dripping shoes then my socks and wring them out. The ground is almost warm to my skin. Much better. I start walking again without putting them back on. Ryan shakes his head, laughter glinting in his eyes. “What?” He shrugs. “I’m surprised you still have your shoes. You’re always taking them off.” “I would toss them, but that’d be littering.” It’s easy to get back to where we slept. A trail of broken, damaged trees create a clear-cut pathway. Finding the exact tree we had slept beneath is a little harder, but the greenness of the box gives its position away. One corner has been crushed by a fallen branch, but the rest of the box is undamaged. Ryan slings the bow and quiver over his shoulder and attaches the sheath to his jeans then picks up the box and takes off the lid. I tug on my still soaking socks and shoes then sling on the backpack. “What are you doing?” I ask as he picks through the papers. “We might as well look at what’s inside now. This thing tends to get left behind.” That makes sense, but I don’t want to stand around, vulnerable to another attack. I move toward the ocean as I say, “Can’t we look and walk at the same time?” “Always have to be on the move,” Ryan says with an exaggerated sigh. He gives me a lopsided smile, “A kiss is always a good motivator to get moving.” “Uh huh,” I say skeptically but don’t protest when he hooks me around the waist and pulls me close. “We can save the longer ones for home. Or on clouds,” he adds, placing a lingering kiss on the side of my mouth. “Since you’re in a mushy mood, give me the box.” I take it out of his hands and start walking. I him the journal as I rifle through the papers. “It’s not mushy,” he protests. “I just like finally being able to kiss you.”

“Finally?” How long has he been wanting to kiss me? I frown and turn the paper in my hand upside down, then at an angle. “Yes, finally. I almost did a couple times, but I wasn’t sure.” My steps slow as I focus on him. “You can be hard to read sometimes,” he continues. “Like right now.” He stops. I hold the paper up so that it covers my face. “Maybe I don’t want you reading me.” Ryan pulls down my arm, and his eyes bore into mine. “You always get squeamish when I look in your eyes.” That’s because most people don’t look me in the eye. At least not as long as you do. I’m used to being the one looking at people and listening, not the other way around. “I only get squeamish when you’re gutting animals. These words are written in some kind of—” I flip it to the other side. “Another language or something.” I place the paper in Ryan’s open hand and pull out a few more. They too are written with the same strange letters. I rifle through more, but none are written in English, and the few diagrams scribbled down make no sense to me. I let out a frustrated sigh and slap the lid back on. “Then there was that moment on the beach,” he says. My eyes focus on the ground. That moment. Why did the mention of it make my heart beat faster when that moment was over? “Lissa. You don’t have to hide your feelings from me,” he says seriously. He tries to look me in the eye but I keep mine averted. “Or your thoughts.” I don’t have to hide my feelings. He might as well have said it in German. Feelings were to be felt, not shown. Moments in my life reinforced this. As for my thoughts, they were only allowed out of my head after going through a rigorous process of being analyzed then reanalyzed, word choice the last critical step to be taken.

“I do tell you my thoughts. Like we go through the trouble of keeping this thing —” Ryan cuts me off with a frustrated grumble then grabs my waist and pokes his fingers in the soft spot between my ribs and hip bone. “Stop that!” I laugh and break free. “You don’t always. You pause before answering. You think about what you’re going to say.” “Maybe. But we both have parts of ourselves we haven’t given up yet.” He has still said very little about his family: he loved his mom very much but she died when he was young, he has an older brother he isn’t in with, and his father is not his biological one. That is the extent of my knowledge. “Here.” I trade the box for the journal then find the page I left off on. “True. I still wish you’d open up to me more. I want to be the guy you talk to, you know? The one you feel safe telling everything.” My feet stick to the ground. Everything? Was that even possible? I’d only ever shared portions of myself, even with Trevor and Dad. “That’s a lot to ask,” I say lightly. I suck in my stomach and look between his eyes. His lips pull up in a ghost of a smile. “Right now. But that’s how you are to me, and I just want to be the same for you.” Clearly only for some things though. Maybe he’s a work in progress too when it comes to revealing deeper stuff. “All right but it could take a while for me to get to that place. It’s not typical for me. I’ve spent years keeping things to myself.” He traces my collarbone, leaning in so his forehead rests against mine. “I know. I just wanted you to know that.” I kiss his jaw. “I’ll read the important stuff out loud.”

I check for the sound of water lapping against shore then, tugging him forward, alter our path. I flip the page and scan through a few paragraphs before finding one of interest. “Looks like you were right. Listen to this. ‘Iru has finally done something worthwhile. He created a super potion of sorts. The animals drink it and it enhances speed, flexibility, etc. Cataloged side effects on page 34,’” I say more to myself. “So that’s why those Rexes had out-of-character abilities,” he comments. The rest of the page lists the ingredients and which creatures she wanted to give the drink to. We cross a small stream, grab a refreshing drink, and continue. I silently read a few more pages on how they plan on become the richest people on Earth using Pandorma, how they intend to exploit every inch of the planet. I wrinkle my nose, disgust rising in my throat. I read the next bit out loud. “‘It seems things on Pandorma aren’t entirely how I expected. The creatures oppose my using the natural resources for my own gain, and they absolutely refuse to allow people to visit the planet. Many of the creatures fear the power Xavier and I possess but still some are ri against us.’ “Several days later she writes, ‘We are now at war. I expected a quick win, but unfortunately those lowly creatures are more skilled than they let on. As of now, they are banding together to force us to leave. These idiot creatures don’t know who they’re dealing with. Still, despite my aim to fight, in every battle I am being forced to take some extra measures to stay on top—I’ve had to threaten creatures with their lives to get them to fight on my side. “‘I presented the idea of using Earth animals and/or shifters (werewolves) as a shield so that my warriors will get hit less. Xavier laughed down the idea, but it gave me a better one—capsule a shifter’s ability and offer it to normal people. I’ll reap in a very generous profit but won’t share. That’ll teach him to laugh at me. Shifters are going to be difficult to find though. I may have to consider broadening my circle of Earth connections.’” I flip to the next page. “‘I’ve bribed their commander, a tiger named Cobalt. In return for misleading her army, she can have as much territory as she desires and peace when this is over.’” “Now we know for sure Cobalt is working for Medusa,” Ryan says grimly. “But

I’m confused. If the animals were against Medusa and Xavier raiding the planet, then how’d they get animals to fight for them?” “She mentioned the creatures being afraid of them. Maybe that’s how,” I guess. “She’s not promising them anything?” I start reading again. “Well, it looks like if they fight willingly, they are given something they want and placed near the back instead of at the frontline.” We come to the edge of the forest and to a field of grass and wildflowers. “There are the clouds. We head under them, keeping to the beach, then turn away from the setting sun at the rock ground, right?” “Right. How about I read while you be lookout since you’ve got the better senses?” he says. I hand him the journal, and he gives me the box and his bow. Little insects scatter from the threat of our feet, and a few birds dash out of the grass as well, even though we’re several feet away. I notice some herbivores far off but nothing else. “It’d be helpful if she wrote in dates instead of leaving a chunk of space and starting a new entry.” “Dates don’t have much importance here,” I say, snatching off the head of a blade of grass. “Her writing is a little vague, but that pterosaur that attacked us our first day on Pandorma?” “Yep.” I pluck more blades of grass, carefully knotting them together. “Well, Medusa was told , and she had someone named Saffron send one of those shadow things to kill us.” “The screature.” I put Ryan’s wrist up then work on tying the ends of the grass bracelet. “But that was because she didn’t want people knowing about Pandorma and possibly surviving and taking that knowledge to Earth. Cobalt did send a

messenger to tell Medusa about you, but from what I’m reading here, Medusa has given you very little thought. She did want to be kept informed of your whereabouts.” Success! I proudly tighten the miniature knot on the grass bracelet then twine my fingers with Ryan’s. “So was everything Cobalt did and said just to keep us from realizing she was on Medusa’s side?” “That seems like the most logical explanation. Here Medusa writes that defeating you would send a clear message to all creatures that she can’t be defeated. Lissa . . .” I tilt my head to look at him. “After we give Cuven the root, maybe we should find a portal home,” he finishes. I stop walking. “Home?” He opens his mouth, only to slump to the ground. “Ryan!” I kneel over him. A sharp pain pierces my thigh. I hit the ground and black out.

Chapter 19

I moan. My head throbs as if it now contained my beating heart, and my ts feel like jelly. I try to get up, but I’m tenderly pushed back down. “Easy,” someone whispers. My head is so foggy I can’t recognize the voice. A hand brushes hair away from my face then caresses my wrist in a circular motion. Stay awake. But the thought is detached and lacks conviction. I’m soon washed back into sleep.

When I wake again, the hand is gone, and I’m shivering. The cold, rock ground beneath me is glazed with millions of tiny pebbles that bore into my skin. The air has a mountain chill to it that gives me goosebumps and freezes my core. I wonder if I’ll ever be entirely warm again. The pounding in my head has gone down to a pulsating pain that’s easier to deal with. My stomach growls. I lift myself up to stand but it feels as though all my strength has been sapped. Halfway standing, hands come to my hips, holding me steady. I’m practically blind, but the scent is distinctly familiar. “Ryan,” I whisper. “What happened?” “Finally. You took forever to wake up.” Instantly, the fogginess clouding my brain leaves. “Dark?” “I hope you mean me and not the one surrounding us,” she half-heartedly jokes. Darklily’s scent wafts in front of me. I get down on my knees and hug her tightly. My arm touches a spot that feels

matted and sticky. I bring my fingers to my nose. Blood. “Dark, are you okay?” “Of course. A few scrapes won’t kill me.” She brushes away my concern, but there’s a twinge of pain in her voice. There’s a snort. “More like a few gashes. She argued with Cobalt when she came to tell us that they’d be bringing you guys in here soon. Cobalt warned us not to cause trouble. Guess she figured we’d try to break out or something. Not sure why. If we were going to break out, we would’ve tried already. But Dark figured there was a chance you guys would be brought here as well and decided we should just chill. Guess she was right.” “Course I was,” Dark mutters. Trevor brushes his hand along the wall, and I follow the sound to him. I give him a quick hug. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he murmurs before saying normally, “It’s been a nightmare being trapped in here.” “A nightmare is better. Those at least end when you wake,” Dark says. I lean closer to her. “All the same, I’m glad we’re all together again. Shiver’s not here, is she?” I ask hopefully. “No,” Ryan answers quietly. “They took all our stuff too.” “Now that you’re awake, Lissa, we can finally get out of here,” Dark says with vexation. “Before we break out, can someone tell me what happened?” I ask. “Did Cuven ever track you down, Dark?” She sniffs. “Oh, he tracked us down, all right. After we’d already wasted half our life traveling across Pandorma. And when he filled us in on what the two of you were doing—” “I thought for sure Dark was going to kill him,” Trevor chuckles. “Cuven said it was the best way to get some of that root.” I lean against the wall

and rub my hand over the back of my neck. I briefly close my eyes, and the dizziness mounting in my head is somewhat relieved. “It is, but what good is it? What we really need is you fighting on our side,” she says. “Right now. There’s a battle looming. Are you up for it? You were out for a while, but Ryan woke a short time after he was dumped here. They must’ve given you something else.” I push against the wall. “Of course.” That’s why I’m here. I hope the determination erases the lingering side effects of whatever I was given. I walk around our prison, getting an estimate of how big it is. “How did you guys end up here?” “The answer to how would be same as you guys, but why is not so clear,” Trevor answers. “Cobalt said Trevor would come in handy,” Dark says. “She must be looking for a new coat.” “Very funny,” Trevor grumbles. Werewolves are hard to find. Medusa wants them for her experiments. Trevor definitely has to get far away from here when we get out. “Where’s the door?” I ask when I’ve walked around the entire prison and haven’t found one. Trevor takes my hand and leads me to a corner. “Feel the air coming in?” he asks quietly. Where he’s placed my hand, I do feel the tiniest breeze on my palm. Trevor’s leaned in close, and his hand has moved down to my elbow. Ryan shuffles a couple steps. I don’t think he likes not being able to see, and I’m pretty sure he’s guessed Trevor is right next to me. Trevor must sense Ryan’s unease because he says in a normal tone, “The door is all rock. Because we’re so special.” Maybe I’d better hit the wall instead. “Okay. Move to the corners and watch out.”

Stegosaurus. “Why—” Dark’s paws scuffle away. I barely fit in the small space. The plates on my back dig into the ceiling and it rains dirt. I’m forced to turn my head far to the side so I can move forward and effectively whip my tail against the door. I pull my tail back, and the spikes ram against the back wall. With so little room, I swing my tail a few times to gain momentum before forcefully hitting the wall. The wall shudders but stays intact, my spikes imprisoned in it. I tug. I wonder what part of me would be stuck in the wall if I shifted. I jerk my tail. It remains stuck. On the second try, it swings out so fast the spikes burrow into the back wall. I stamp my foot. The muscles in my neck are starting to cramp. I yank my tail out and slam it against the wall. A good portion of the wall crumbles. Lissa. “Great,” Ryan says as he walks through the rubble. Dark flicks her tail. “I told you she’d get us out,” she tells Trevor before bounding out of the cave. Trevor gestures for me to go first. Ryan halts at the first corner but flattens himself against the wall after peering around it. We imitate him. Quick-moving shadows fall across the wall then disappear. “Go,” Dark hisses when Ryan doesn’t move. “I don’t know the way out,” he says. Trevor chuckles, and I elbow him. “Ow,” he mutters but, laughter still gleams in his eyes. “I don’t know either,” Dark objects when we all turn our eyes on her. Trevor nudges me so I move to the front and inhale deeply. All I can smell is the heavy dirt and stone, plus a confusing jumble of multiple animals. Animals race

past just then, and I pull back seconds before I can be seen. Once they are gone, I follow in their steps, carefully staying far enough back. Just as I’d hoped, they lead us to the entrance. We duck into the high bushes enclosing the entrance to the underground tunnels. Outside, the air hits me like a wall, crackling with tension, like a thunderstorm preparing to unleash its wrath on the earth. Dark looks around, catag scents in the air. “I know where we are,” she murmurs. “This used to be Cobalt’s old territory. These bushes border the perfect battleground, a savannah.” “What makes it perfect?” Ryan asks. “Flat terrain, trees to use as springboards, and open sky for flying creatures to attack.” I nervously glance at that open sky. “We’ll be an easy target for their bombs. They could annihilate everyone and have a clean win.” “Bombs?” Trevor asks, looking at me. I nod. Ryan stares at a branch, the green in his eyes turning a shade darker—a face I’ve come to know that means there’s something going on in his head. Dark flicks her tail. “I believe our warriors are in that direction. With all the warriors focused on the battle, I doubt they’ll care , but just in case, we’ll move in pairs.” “Great idea. I’ll go with Lissa,” Trevor adds after shifting into a wolf. Dark’s eyes flash. “I think not. You boys walk ahead of us. Go on,” she orders. “I’ll tell you if you’re going the wrong way.” It’s probably not best to leave those two together, but I’m not about to argue with her. Trevor looks more annoyed by this than Ryan, but still, they turn and walk ahead. We don’t follow until they’re nearly out of sight.

Leopard. “I’ll be glad when this is finally over,” Dark says. “Me too.” A huge bowl of chicken noodle soup sounds amazing. My mouth starts to water. That, followed by a bath in warm water. Shivers of anticipation pluck my nerves. “Where will you go?” she asks. I’d smile if I were in my human form. Dark’s voice betrays her emotions, tagging her casualness as false. “Home,” I say. Dark’s pace slows considerably, and I stop. “Dark, I absolutely love it here. This is the most incredible place I’ve ever been to and I’ll come back, but once this is over, I have to go home.” “With him,” she says bitterly, her claws sliding out. “If you stayed, we could have so much fun. Endless days of exploring and adventure—you’d be free here.” “I’m not leaving for Ryan. I have to go home and check on Dad. I feel awful for disappearing on him.” If he’s even noticed. It’d be best if he hadn’t, spare him the worry, but I can’t deny it’d be nice if I was the one being worried about for a change. Dark’s emerald eyes bore into mine, and they seem to automatically know I’ve lied about Ryan—part of me is leaving for him. We never really talked about staying, but whenever I would toss out the idea of living here, he’d playfully go along with it or point out reasons why living here wouldn’t be a good idea. I imagine staying here without him, and it triggers a flurry of anxiety in my heart and sends my soul into a sad spiral. I’m not sure I could live without him. Her ears flatten, and she briskly walks away. “Please don’t be upset,” I beg. “Would you leave your world for such a long time and not want to go back?” She halts and stares at the ground. “It’s just been so long.” Her eyes switch over to me. “Just hurry back once you’ve checked on your dad, okay?”

“How would I even find you?” I ask as we hurry to catch up to the boys. Dark flicks an ear. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll find you.” We race across marsh and into a narrow stretch of jungle bordering a tremendously hilly grassland. Reaching the edge of the jungle, we hunker down in the leafy growth to observe the creatures pacing. Lissa. The army of creatures ranges from dinosaurs to mammals and even herbivores that have adequate weaponry. That’s a lot of animals. I rub my thumb and finger together. Was I ready for this? This isn’t a territory skirmish between a group of animals—this is a full-on, chaotic battle. I fan my face for a couple seconds. I can do this—I have to. I’ll just have to put my human side on the backburner and kill like Ryan and Shiver are depending on me. An Allosaurus plods its way to the front of the line. I must be insane. Someone grabs my shoulders and jerks me around. Trevor. “You can do this. Don’t get caught up in here,” he taps the side of my head. He’s right. I roll up onto my toes and back. I can do this. “Trevor, head for the back. I don’t want to hear your complaints,” Dark growls when he starts to speak. “You’re already in way over your head, but if you insist on fighting, then that’s where you have to be.” He looks at me one more time, his gaze reassuring, before he grudgingly s the warriors at the back. Anxiety still churns in my stomach, but to alleviate it, I focus on the variety of calls and mutterings between the warriors. “Lissa, you and I will head for the middle,” she instructs then turns to Ryan. “I’m sorry, Ryan, but you have to stay here.”

“No way,” he says staunchly. “Despite your skills, at the end of the day, you are still only human. This isn’t like any fighting you’ve trained for. You’re nowhere near ready for it.” Ryan swallows, his eyes glinting with anger. He looks at me to back him up, but I have to agree with Dark. Even if he had his weapons, they wouldn’t be of much use if their army is as big as ours. “Lissa, wait.” He snatches my wrist up. “I need to talk to you. Alone.” “The battle begins when the eagle screams,” Dark warns then heads into the throng of creatures. “I’m doing this,” I say firmly. He paces, clenching and unclenching his fists. “ what Medusa wrote in her journal, about defeating you sending a message? What if she’s here, at this battle?” Somehow seeing him so wound up has a calming effect. “Maybe she’s not.” Ryan shakes his head, eyes flashing in my direction. “Don’t do that. She wrote that she fights in the battles. Don’t fight this one.” “Then which one should I fight, Ryan? This is why Dark brought me here, not to collect roots and fall in love.” Where the heck did that come from? My eyes bulge, and I take a step back. He shakes his head, and then his lips are suddenly on mine. My arms loop under his and around to his back, locking his body against mine. “I hate this,” he breathes, his forehead pressed against mine. “I hate that I can’t do more.” He pulls back and looks me in the eye. There’s nothing I can do to change that. I slide my hand down his arm then hold up his wrist. I finger the grass bracelet, surprised it didn’t break during our unconscious transportation to our prison. “You still have this?” “Yeah. Must be good luck.”

“Huh.” I don’t believe in luck, but if something so delicate can survive, maybe my chances of surviving could be good as well. I kiss below the knuckle of his thumb then turn and quickly leave. Lion. I hunt down Dark. The tip of her tail flips back and forth, her back rigid. “I despise big battles,” she mutters. “Memorize the scent of our warriors. It’ll help you distinguish them from the enemy.” My leg muscles tremble. I breathe in, but the scents are nameless. I draw a blank on the moves I normally would make to execute a kill. I inhale sharply, the air becoming jammed in my lungs. A hard shove knocks me to the side. “You’re doing that thing Trevor told you not to,” she scolds. “Right. Sorry.” Around us, bears, Allosaurus, large cats, Utahraptors, a dragon, and other creatures grow still. An eagle soaring above screeches the battle cry. I picture a tsunami racing at the land as bodies move as one toward the savannah. My heart beats out adrenaline as I’m seemingly carried along. The energy from the other creatures charges the air and resonates with the buried part of me that is not human.

Chapter 20

The tide of creatures pause on the savannah. A rhino’s body makes it impossible for me to see ahead. Cobra. The other warriors line the opposite side of the savannah, only a sprint away. Their army looks just as large, maybe larger. I look to the side at a flare of brilliant orange. Cobalt. She strides to the front, head raised boldly. “This land does not belong to you, shifter. Surrender now and spare the lives of many,” she growls to a figure that has appeared opposite her. Xavier. Lion. I lean forward. “You know I never surrender,” he says. The eagle above screeches again, and then we’re charging at the other side. Every creature releases its battle cry, and the sound is petrifying. The other warriors blur together into one giant, terrifying monster that breaks apart when the two sides collide. A wolf leaps over my head, and a split second after, I’m showered with blood. The body of a moose falls next to me, half its neck completely ripped out. I whip around at a snarl, only to rear away from the wolf’s teeth. I pounce, only catching its foot, but my claws act as hooks and I pull it back, my teeth cracking its neck. I make a slow circle, trying to see through the chaos. I have a new respect for the animals battling. All the warriors are without hesitation. Despite the jumble of snarls, the blood flying in every direction, they know exactly who their rival is, and they don’t falter with their fatal blows.

A body slams into me, sending me onto my side. A polar bear’s paws threaten to crush my ribs. I roll away—grizzly bear—and strike out. Taken off guard by the shift, my blow lands, but it also snaps it back to attention. Jaws parted, we grapple to latch onto the other’s scruff. My paw has just landed across the other bear’s snout when I’m struck in the ribs. An elephant’s trumpet tells me who dealt the blow before I even lay eye on the massive creature. Wheezing to get my breath back, I size up my new opponent. Elephant. Again, I use the surprise of form change to my advantage and get in the first blow. The crack of tusks slamming together sounds hard enough to have broken one, but my opponents’ metal-tipped tusks stay intact. I back up, and the elephant wags its head. Utahraptor. I dart around and leap onto the elephant’s side. My claws and teeth turn its side into a bloody mass. Teeth crunch into my ribs, and I shriek as I’m ripped off the elephant’s side. The Allosaurus drops me, pinning me with one foot it coils back its head like a snake. “Wait,” says a smug female voice. “Allow me.” The Allosaurus backs away. Lissa. I scramble to my feet and clutch my arms to my throbbing side. My eyes travel up the sculpted female figure. Medusa. Every inch of her is unnaturally perfect, from her glossy, wavy, sepiabrown hair that falls to her elbows to gorgeous, dark blue predator eyes that look down on me. My vision blurs briefly, and I grit my teeth together. Come on. I need to heal faster. “So you’re the rat that wants to foil my plans of glorious fame and fortune,” she says. Tiger. I pounce so fast I hope to catch her off guard like the other creatures.

I’m wrong. The second I shift, she’s matched me. We viciously claw and hiss at each other before breaking apart and circling. “You aim well, but that’s about all you can do. You fight like a child, and your shifting abilities are cringeworthy. I will show you how a real warrior kills.” Medusa snarls and leaps. Snake. I slither under her—tiger—and rip at her scruff. She bats me away with a powerful strike. I trip over the body of a wolverine, and Medusa towers over me. “You should never have come to Pandorma. You don’t belong here, and now you will die here,” she snarls. Furious, I leap for her throat, but she rears back and in the blink of an eye, she’s shifted into a horse. Her hooves strike my jaw. The crack of bone makes me nauseous, and blood wets my fur. “Ha! You’re so inept I shouldn’t even waste my skills on you.” Medusa turns her back on me, giving her tail an arrogant swish. Anger consumes my pain. Grizzly bear. I barrel into her hindquarters, and she face plants in the dirt. For a fleeting moment, I wish I hadn’t done that. A furious Medusa shifts into a short-faced bear and aims a massive paw at my head. I duck in time that the blow is only glancing, but my swimming vision clears only for my ears to ring from a second blow. Deinonychus. I evade her snapping jaws and spring onto her back, gouging her side. Medusa bellows, and her back arches in a bucking lurch but I’ve already leapt off. Lion. I go for her face, clinging on like a burr. I try to sink my teeth into her neck. She bashes my body against the ground and rears up to slam her paws down on me. Tears blur her towering figure, and my vision narrows to slits. There’s a thunderous blast, and an invisible force knocks Medusa to the ground.

“Those fools,” she growls. I struggle to my feet. At the edge of the chaos, there’s a crater the size of a pool in the ground. Apparently, they didn’t go for the most powerful bombs on the market. A whip thwacks my side and sends me tumbling away. Another explosion rocks the ground. Panting, I gather myself into a crouched position, swaying slightly. Every breath is a blade of ice, my jaw hurts, and blood streams down my body to the ground. My strength is chipping away, and it feels like my life is ebbing into the dirt beneath me. I glance up at Medusa. “Finished already?” She isn’t even out of breath, even though she too has several injuries. Does she heal faster? It sure looks that way. My heart sinks. I have no chance of winning. Medusa shifts into a tiger. Cheetah. I race off. Another blast shoves me off my feet, but I’m back on them in an instant and keep running until I hit forest. Fox. I tuck into a cavity created by two trunks growing away from each other. Boom. The tree quivers. “Hiding? You’re a bigger coward than I thought,” Medusa jeers. From the sound of her footsteps, I picture her as a T. Rex or something larger. The booming pauses, and my heart jumps into my throat. The hairs on the back of my neck prick with alarm. I shoot out of the crevice seconds before it’s broken apart by Medusa’s foot. Leopard. I fly up the nearest tree and crouch among the foliage. With a furious snarl, Medusa shifts into a leopard and races up the tree. I spring out of the tree, intending to shift into a bald eagle, when talons grip my

shoulders. Medusa, me in tow, tears through the branches, surging into the sky. I don’t have time to react before she tosses me into the air. Talons slice across my shoulders and haunch. With no energy left to shift, I can only brace for impact. I close my eyes and see Ryan waiting for me to come back to him. My ankles take the brunt of the weight, and a warm sensation spreads through my limbs as I collapse onto my side. Get up. Run, run, screams a voice inside. But my body won’t move. Medusa, in human form, lands next to me, dust blowing out beneath her feet. Now she is panting. A bit. Through hazy vision, I watch her approach and crouch over me. She makes a clucking noise. “You poor little girl. Cuven tried. But you really should have stayed home.” She produces a dagger, and panic skitters along my veins as she aims for my neck—a suffering kill if she doesn’t sever my spinal cord. A blast of air knocks Medusa away. The landing dragon melts into Xavier. “You’re not playing fair, Medusa,” he chides. She glares at him. “This is not a game. If she lives, she could ruin everything we’ve worked for.” She advances toward me, but he roughly grabs her arm. “I said not yet.” Xavier’s eyes turn almost black. “I need her to play her part first.” The anger around her is so heavy I think she’s going to attack him. “Fine,” she snaps. “She just might take care of herself after I tell her this.” She grabs my shoulder, gripping it hard enough I think the bone will crack. “I was busy wrapping up other affairs on Earth when I was told that jaguar had brought you here. I just had to pay your father a visit to find out who exactly Lissa was. Although a brilliant move on my part, it’s unfortunate for you that I was forced to take care of him before he could stir up trouble. Couldn’t have him spilling his secrets.”

With a shove, she stands. No. A strong concoction of grief and anger rise in my throat, and with hardly a thought, my body takes its human form. The agonized cry must come from my lips, though it echoes from somewhere else. I focus on the gray rock and its patchwork of dirt beneath my cheek. It’s not true. But why would she lie? Shut up! Medusa is a bad person, and bad people lie. I have to see him—now. I run my hand across the rock, trying to find any kind of notch to help get myself up. My fingers locate a crevice. I’ve only moved a couple unbearable inches when Medusa, with a flick of her wrist, launches the dagger deep into my side. I scream. Xavier laughs. “Brutal.” “That’s what you love about me,” she replies, an edge to her words. The pair shift and take off. I have to get home. To protect Dad. Medusa couldn’t have found a man she never met. She didn’t have his scent, his picture, or his name. My arm doesn’t even move a millimeter before hot tears of pain collet in my hair. I have to shift so that I heal faster. Don’t. The dagger. My vision blurs and I blink but everything still looks fuzzy. Except the sky. The sky looks exceptionally blue. I must be on a cliff. I frown. Is it taking me closer to the sky? I know that isn’t possible but my mind is getting as fuzzy as my vision. But I know that I’m too far away and that Ryan won’t be able to find me up here. No, he will. And if I close my eyes, I’ll open them again, and I’m sure he’ll be beside me. My muscles relax into the welcoming bed of the ground, and my eyelids droop.

Ryan will find me soon.

“Lissa!” The sound of Ryan’s voice nearly makes me cry, and I turn a circle. The world is dark with hues of gray. How did the cliff take me up so high without me knowing? I want to look over the edge of the cliff so that Ryan knows I’m up here, but I can’t find it. “Where are you?” I whimper, but something’s wrong with my mouth. “I’m right here.” Something warm brushes across my cheek, and my mind snaps awake. Had I been dreaming? Blurry shapes piece themselves together in the back of my head. Ryan’s certainly in sharper focus than a dream person usually is. He whispers my name again. “Told you all that blood was hers,” Darklily growls. Trevor’s large form kneels on Ryan’s other side. “I can’t believe you’re still alive,” Trevor grunts. I wasn’t supposed to be. Xavier saved me. The grass twined around Ryan’s wrist has a small rip in it, and I imagine it crying. It doesn’t want to leave Ryan either. “Medusa didn’t take it easy on you at all. She’ll pay for that,” Dark hisses furiously. “Steady her. I’ll take the knife out,” Trevor says. Ryan places a hand on my sternum, but there’s no need. I can barely move. “I’m going to pick you up now, okay?” Ryan says. The idea is appealing because I don’t want to be lost in the sky anymore. I’m cradled in his arms and ripped out of the hazy sky. Spasms of pain like I’ve never felt before plague my body, as if a hammer is being taken to each wound

and pounding a new nail into my flesh every couple seconds. Tears flow down my cheeks. Holding back the sobs is a different kind of stinging pain, but the few that escape must yank out a rib bone with them. Trevor walks in my line of view, and he can’t seem to make up his mind whether he wants to look at me or not. “Maybe I should—” “No,” Ryan growls protectively, cutting Trevor off. Dark’s heartbeat es behind me and travels ahead. Stones roll away from their places of rest. She must be rolling them out of Ryan’s path. She growls in her throat then remarks tensely, “She’s still bleeding.” “I know,” Ryan grinds out between his teeth. “We just need to get her to the tunnels so she can drink some healing water.” I wish I could have that healing water now or be unconscious until I’m closer to getting it. None of them speak, but their palpable emotions do that for them and it feels like every depressing emotion on the spectrum. I close my eyes and play the memory of Ryan and me up in the clouds. The landscape below is awash with the most beautiful colors. Dad is obsessed with colors, and if he ever does anything that involves depicting them on paper, they have to be exactly right. “I—” A sharp jab of pain is quick to cut me off. “Shh, don’t try to talk right now,” Ryan says. I have to get home. I lift one hand. At least I can move my arms again, and I curl and uncurl my fingers. Could I shift? Ryan holds me tighter. I’d better not. It feels less like he’s walking down a potholed road the farther downhill we get. It had been gray and depres there, but now beams of sunlight warm my chilled body. I crack open my eyes. More colors, these ones on a field of thousands of unbelievably exquisite wildflowers of various shapes and colors. If I could only touch their soft petals and soak up the life blooming from every blossom. All too soon, the field ends, and we come to the edge of the savannah. Ryan tenses as if expecting danger, and I can feel Dark’s emerald gaze burning into me, waiting for a reaction. But I don’t have a reaction, just a feeling of sorrow.

The savannah has been blown to bits. Not a tree is left standing, mangled bodies lay everywhere, and craters pockmark the ground. Blood paints the savannah floor dark red instead of dusty yellow. Ryan has to take a winding maze to reach the other side of the savannah, where a cluster of depleted, injured creatures sit. When they catch sight of me, they raise their heads, tentative hope showing on their faces. Trevor pushes ahead through the bushes, holding back branches or snapping them. We reach the entrance to the underground tunnels, and Ryan gently lays me down in the small clearing around the entrance. Cobalt and Cuven’s dead, beaten-up bodies lay a few feet away. Not Cuven. I feel like crying again. Did they die in battle, or were they murdered too? I ball up my hands. Did Cobalt fall out of line? That had to be the reason. She was compelled to switch sides when things turned bleak—what if she had been switching sides again? A red panda momentarily blocks my view of their bodies as it sniffs my bleeding injuries. It waddles into the tunnels and comes out a moment later with a bottle not even half the size Cuven had given us. “This is all I can spare, but it should be enough to help her body through the worst of the injuries.” The red panda’s voice makes me think of sweet, golden honey, and its dark eyes gleam with kindness. “Drink it all.” Ryan takes it and rips off the lid. “Open up.” I tear my eyes away from the red panda’s beautiful coat and turn them on Ryan. He holds the bottle to my lips. I let the liquid slide down my throat. The red panda then pushes forward some leaves. “These will help you sleep nice and long. When you wake, your body should be fully recovered, and you’ll feel like yourself again. There’s a cave with feather beds in it. She can rest there.” Chewing the leaves is nearly impossible so I force myself to swallow them. The bitterness makes me gag, which invokes a cough that sets off another firework of pain.

Ryan picks me up again, carries me to an empty, dead-end tunnel, and lays me down on a soft bed of feathers. He strokes my hair. I want to stare at his gentle face forever, but the leaves have already taken affect and I fall asleep.

Medusa’s eyes glint menacingly. I’m crouched in a small dark space. “Fe, fi, fo, fum,” Medusa’s voice sneers. An enormous shadow es over me, and fear strangles my throat. A wicked grin spreads across the obscure figure’s face. Massive teeth stretch toward me. I scramble backward, but I’m too late. The teeth close over my head. I jolt up and feel my neck. Still there. I crumple back down and rub my face. Medusa’s face materializes overhead, the knife in her hand. I quickly sit up and place a hand to my side. There’s no gash, but the rip in my shirt shows where it had been. I place a hand on my jaw and move it to each side. That certainly healed up nicely. I stretch my torso and arms then walk in several small circles to get my muscles warmed up. They feel like ice being cracked so water can flow freely again. I return most of the scattered feathers of my bed to their place before leaving my alcove. The glorious sunshine gives me goosebumps. I breathe in deeply. “How can you be so sure?” Dark asks. “Sure about what?” I ask. Dark and the red panda look at me. Dark bumps her velvety head against me in greeting. “I’m glad you’re okay,” she purrs. I pick a block of sunlight and sit in it, closing my eyes with pleasure. “I’m glad you and Trevor are okay too.” That seemed like a nasty battle, though it was

probably normal. “It would seem there are some surprises that haven’t been uncovered yet,” Dark says cautiously. I nod. “Someone else may share your ability,” she hints, and I get the feeling she doesn’t want to say what she’s about to reveal. I crack open my eyes. “My shifting ability? Dark just spit it out.” “Ryan.” I squint, and my chin juts out slightly. “Ryan . . . can shift?” “There’s a chance,” the red panda says. “I was only around him for a short time, but there was restlessness stirring in his bones. Of course, I could be wrong, but if I’m not, his senses will change first, become stronger. I’m sure he will start to wonder.” I face Dark. “Did you know he might be one?” Dark flicks an ear. “He’s been with you, and when I was around him last, he seemed like an ordinary human to me. Amethyst is just a little over-perceptive.” “It could be that being on Pandorma has forced his shifter side to surface,” the red panda suggests, interest sparkling in her eyes. “I know little about shifters, but when you’re in danger or being forced to survive, the creature side is likely to kick in. Being full grown and not having shifted before, this will make it harder for his body to adjust.” Ryan a shifter? I shake my head, gather my hair to one side of my neck, and twist it around. I don’t understand. I don’t see how it’s possible for him to be a shifter and not know. Just like I was. Although, with his mom dying when he was young and the relationship between him and his dad being the way it is, maybe that’s information his dad didn’t want to share. I frown and run my fingers through the ends of my hair. Hold on. Trevor didn’t have a choice in shifting when he turned sixteen. Ryan is eighteen. Does that

make Ryan a shifter like me instead of a werewolf? “If he is a shifter, he’ll need to shift eventually,” the red panda warns. “And you’re going to have to tell him if he doesn’t figure it out on his own,” Dark jumps in. “Okay,” I say quickly and hold up one palm. The last thing I want to do is tell Ryan there’s a chance he could be a shifter, not when he doesn’t want to be one. At least that’s what I gathered from when I asked him what he thought about shifting. I pick up an old dead leaf and crush it to pieces. Ryan, did you know you could be a shifter? I bet he’d laugh then realize I was serious. Maybe he’d curse. But after that? Maybe he feels differently now after having to sit on the sidelines for that battle. I rub my knees and sigh, look around. Both he and Trevor are nowhere to be seen, and I can’t smell them either. “Where is Ryan?” Dark stretches out and answers, “He went to get Shiver.” My pulse quickens. “Alone?” “No, some creatures went with him,” Dark says. “Oh.” I’m glad he went to get Shiver as soon as the chance presented itself, but I wish he had waited for me. “What about Trevor?” Dark’s shoulder fur ripples. “Don’t know.” A bit of moss has taken up residence on a bush trunk, and I pry at it with my fingernail. Reluctantly, I ask about the person haunting my mind. “And Medusa?” Trevor suddenly plops down next to me. “She’s disappeared.” “Where were you?” I ask, giving him a shove so that he’s not hogging all my space. “Out hunting. But that battle scared off everything but the vultures.” He breaks

off a branch and starts peeling bark off it. “We don’t—” “Save it for later. Her body is still recovering from the battle. She doesn’t need bad news added on top of it,” the red panda cuts in. “Amethyst, she’s fine, and she needs to know,” Dark says. “Aren’t amethysts purple?” I ask, guessing it’s the red panda’s name. “They are. My mother had me in a meadow of gems. The purple ones were her favorite, therefore, my name.” “Anyway,” Trevor says, bumping our shoulders together, “I think the war is basically over.” “Did we win?” I ask hopefully, looking from one face to another. “We won this battle.” Dark sits up again and scratches her ear. “You kept Medusa busy, which means our warriors were better able to attack because she wasn’t picking them off. Xavier has never been one to do much fighting, so he disappeared after the battle began.” “So Medusa and Xavier are still out there somewhere.” I run a hand over the spot where the knife wound was. I don’t know why I wouldn’t expect this. Medusa did crush me and intended to kill me. It’s not like an army was on standby to capture the pair and hold them prisoner. “Yeah, but I think they’re having second thoughts about continuing the war. Now that the creatures know there’s a shifter like Medusa and Xavier on their side, they’re backing you. Medusa has lost almost her entire army.” Trevor raises his hand for a high five. I look away. I don’t think anyone would be ing me if they had seen Medusa take me down. It had been child’s play to her. “Packs are out trying to track Medusa and Xavier down, but it’s like they vanished. Not a trace of them has been found. I don’t think they’re finished though,” he adds forebodingly. “They found a portal and skipped,” Dark says, flicking her tail.

“Why would they go to Earth?” I ask, struggling to keep fear out of my voice. If Medusa is on Earth, I’ll be looking over my shoulder every minute. I scrape a nail against the inside of my thumbnail. Trevor shrugs. “They could still be here.” “They’re not here,” Dark mutters. “What creature can be sure of anything at these times?” Amethyst mumbles. “I must go check on the wounded.” I stare at the ground and stretch my senses to their limit, trying to pick up any sign Medusa might be around. I doubt she’d lurk around just to see if I’m dead— and kill me behind Xavier’s back since I’m not. More likely she’d send a creature to do that. I scan the surrounding area again. Still nothing. But the feeling of unease remains. “Don’t worry. Within days, you’ll be home safe,” Dark purrs. I purse my lips. “Safe” and “home” don’t really belong in the same sentence. Staying here would make it easier to pretend Medusa was lying and Dad is fine. My heart doesn’t want to leave behind this place either. Must be the animal side of my heart though because I also don’t want to leave Ryan. “I thought you wanted to go home,” Dark prods. I pull my knees up. “Yeah, I do. It’s just . . .” “You don’t want to go home,” Trevor fills in. I brusquely shrug. “I have to go home.” “You don’t have to do anything, Lissa. If you want to stay you should. You shouldn’t let Ryan—” “It’s not just him. I have to check on my Dad,” I interrupt. His face softens. “Tell him I said hi.” I will if possible. I grit my teeth. Don’t think that.

Thunder drums in the distance, and I get to my feet. “How long until this portal opens?” Dark rises also, her snout sniffing its way up into the air. “Roughly five days.” Ryan had better be back by then. I’m sure locating portals isn’t easy, which makes me wonder. “How do you know when a portal is opening?” Dark looks off toward the savannah. “The air around a portal opening changes. Air from Earth seeps through.” She mumbles something about needing to get exercise and food and races off. “How long was I asleep?” I ask. Trevor stares after Dark and replies absently, “A little over three days.” “Oh. We should take shelter,” I say, glancing at the graying sky. Trevor rubs his hands on his knees. “Nah, I’m going to stay out here a bit longer.” All right then. I head to the cave but sit at the mouth so I can watch the mighty thunderstorm dole out its buckets of rain and ground-trembling rumbles. I place myself far enough inside that I won’t get drenched, but sprinkles still mist onto my face when the wind picks up. I breathe in and exhale, relishing the rain scent. The cool droplets feel good against my skin. Dirt is probably running in streaks down my face, and I picture the rain cleaning the devastation from the planet. I shut my eyes. I see that moose with half its neck ripped out, hear the crunch of bone between my teeth, then all those bodies lying in the dirt. I really hope this war is over. I don’t want any more creatures to die, and I don’t want to kill any more of them either. How many did I kill? A fleck of guilt settles itself in my mind. More importantly, how many did I kill that were forced to fight for Medusa? The shuffle of another person sitting beside me drags me out of my thoughts. Trevor’s rigid jaw is outlined by a fork of lightning. He keeps his eyes trained on

the sky, which continues to rage with untamed light. He looks like there’s something on his mind. I tuck my hair behind my ears and try to find a comfier position. I look at the sky as well and try not to guess what’s on his mind. I don’t like the thought at the back of my head. He could’ve picked up on my tension when I mentioned Dad. Why do I even try to kid myself? “You and Ryan are together, aren’t you?” Trevor asks in a tight voice. He fastens his hands together, his knuckles turning white. “An ordinary boy—” “Yes,” I interrupt, not really wanting to have this conversation. “Lissa. Ordinary Boy is ordinary. Think about it. Do you really want to be with him?” “I like him.” I more than like him. He takes my shoulders and turns me so that I’m facing him. “He. Can’t. Shift. He’ll never understand that rush we get when we’re in another form. He’ll never share your world in that way only a shifter can, and he’ll hold you back. He’ll never find you by scent alone or be able to truly protect you. You’ll always have to protect him. You need a man who can protect himself.” I wanted Ryan to understand, to know what it was like to experience the world the way I did. But . . . “None of that matters, and I don’t have to protect Ryan.” Especially if he ends up being a shifter too. After several minutes of silence, he says, “You almost died.” “I know.” I hug my knees against my belly, the injuries burning with memory. Trevor chokes, and I turn to see him close to tears. I barely keep my jaw from dropping. “Please don’t cry,” I beg. “If you cry then I’ll cry.” He drops his head, grabbing onto his neck. When he looks back up, he’s composed, but his eyes still glisten. Whatever Trevor is going to say is cut off by Darklily dashing into the tunnel and blasting us with droplets of water.

I shield my face from the onslaught and laugh, glad for her perfect timing. Trevor jumps up. “Dark! You mongrel, why don’t you—” “Oh, save it.” Dark flicks her tail, and the tip brushes Trevor’s nose. I bite back a smile at his stormy expression. “Where did you go?” he asks, changing the subject. She sits on my other side and begins grooming. “I told you. Eat. Get some exercise. Being cramped in this small area for three days fretting over your attention-sucking friend—” “Hey!” I shove my shoulder against her. Dark makes a rumbling sound in her throat. “Kidding. Although I’m not joking about being stuck here. It can really drive a cat crazy. Especially if stuck with a certain irritable male.” Trevor releases a loud exasperated sigh. “Do you ever stop being such a pain?” “You guys are terrible,” I laugh, getting up. “I’m going to stretch my legs. Alone,” I add the second Trevor steps forward like he’s going to come with me. His eyes darken. “You shouldn’t go out alone. It’s not—” “Safe?” I finish, raising my eyebrows. Dark returns to her grooming, only pausing to say, “Leave her be.” “Thank you.” “Be careful,” Trevor grunts. Leftover raindrops still jump from clouds that have been left behind, but for the most part, the storm has ed. Beams of sunshine spread across the ground, as if the sun too is so happy it can’t contain itself. Unable to suppress the energy zapping through my body, I run and jump—eagle —and soar upward.

I cut through low-hanging clouds and rays of sunlight as I swerve and swoop around, free and weightless. I drop low over grassland where a herd of horses are vigorously running, as if their freedom has finally been restored. Horse. They greet me with inviting neighs and part along the middle, welcoming me to take the lead. A new surge of energy flows through my veins, and I push ahead, persuading them to run even faster. The grassland drops off. Golden eagle. I take the stomach-dropping plunge. The field of exquisite flowers I’d ed days before glisten with sunlight. I parachute my wings and swoop inches above the flower heads, knocking loose pollen and petals. Snake. I drop to the ground, pushing myself to keep the pace. I weave through the bendy stems with pinpoint accuracy. The woody scent of trees and the hefty scent of pines warn of a forest. Tiger. My long strides eat up the ground, and when a humongous fallen tree is reclining in my path, I pounce over it without doubt. My paws touch ground. A pine with few branches to its crown beckons me. Bark scrapes away beneath my claws, and when I can’t go any higher, I leap into the open air. Lissa. My body embraces the impact like it’s nothing. Breathing heavily, I get up from my crouched position. I turn my face to the sun, close my eyes, and breathe in the planet. An electric current runs through my body, charging every nerve and cell. This is powerful. I will not give up. Medusa ground me into the dirt. She pitted her strength against mine and won. But next time, I will not only match it—I will sur it. I’ll keep training. I will push myself until I’ve broken every boundary. The glowing orange sun has half sunk into the ocean. I run and jump as high and as far as I can—dolphin—and dive into the glassy waters. The ocean is not off limits. Neither are the forests, deserts, or stars. The world is my playground.

Chapter 21

I tuck in my ankles so that my legs are crisscrossed, the white, soft sand erasing my movements. Waves glowing with moonlight continually slap themselves against the shore like a broken record but with slight variations to each note. Without Ryan around to divert half my senses, they’ve grown more acute to my surroundings. This must be what it’s like to be in a fairytale. Peaceful palm trees supply their own gentle harmony, their shadows etched onto the sand. A magnificent, large full moon hangs just above the serene waves as if it too wants to sink into the mysterious waters and bathe in the palpable tranquility. “Hey.” The gentle voice nearly gives me a heart attack. I see Ryan by his scent and strong heartbeat before I turn my head, hoping he’s not an illusion sitting next to me. The wind tussles his hair like it does mine, and the moon shining off his face makes his features appear more grown up, hiding the boyish characteristics I’m so familiar with. Joy rushes through my veins, and I let out a small squeal and spring into his arms, pushing us back onto the sand. He laughs, his hands pressing into my back and holding me tight. Names that I can call him for running off run through my head, but not one makes it out. I pull back and stare into his torrential brown eyes. I touch his cheek, my thumb tracing his jaw. He pulls my face down for a kiss, but it’s broken off too soon by, “Don’t forget me!” “Shiver!” “No,” Ryan groans as I detangle myself from him and meet her halfway across the beach.

She’s grown a little but still fits perfectly in my arms. “What took so long?” I don’t mean to sound accusatory, but it comes out that way. “It took longer than I thought for us to get back.” “Uh, yeah. You were gone for almost five days.” Though it felt like it could’ve been five years. “I’m sorry.” “Lis, getting here took even longer than all the walking we did!” Shiver jumps out of my arms and marches around. “Ry doesn’t carry me like you do, and all he does is talk about things in your world. And the creatures he brought with him were scary! I thought for sure they’d try to eat me.” “Shiver, I really wanted to spend a moment alone with Lissa,” Ryan interrupts. “Why?” she pouts. “You’ll get plenty of alone time when you leave.” I purse my lips to keep from laughing and look back at him. “She has a point.” I place myself next to Ryan again, Shiver making herself comfortable in my lap. Ryan puts his legs on either side of mine and wraps his arms around my upper body so as not to disturb her. “We should really head back to the tunnels and get some sleep,” he says. “We have to get up early so that we don’t miss the portal.” “I’d rather stay here for a bit longer.” I lean against him and he inhales. “She fell asleep fast,” he whispers after a moment. “It took her hours to fall asleep the days before, and she would not stop talking,” he laughs quietly. “It was good to hear her voice again though.” It’s good to hear both your voices again. “So. You left so fast I didn’t get to tell you everything that happened on the cliff,” I say.

He presses his nose to my hair. “I’m not sure I want to know everything.” “This you do.” I press my lips together. “Xavier stopped Medusa from killing me.” “Why would he do that?” His energy shifts from relaxed to wary. I shrug. “Beats me.” “Well I’d like to know.” I trace my thumb along his knuckles. “Well, he said he needed me to play my part. I don’t know what that means.” Ryan exhales, stares off into the water then buries his face in my neck. “I can’t wait to be home.” I can. I could stay here forever. These kinds of moments are so few and short. Any sense of time becomes nonexistent as the moon dips its feet into the luminous ocean water.

“Hey, wake up,” a hushed voice flutters in my ear. I don’t want to wake up, so I try to force sleep to return. It jubilantly scuttles away when Dark speaks, again telling me to wake up. Reluctantly, I open my eyes and stare into her large emerald ones. “Get out of my face,” I mumble and sit up. Dark now prods at Ryan. “He doesn’t wake easily, does he?” “Nope. Where’s Shiver?” I ask, swiftly getting to my feet. “She went to eat. Told her to go with Trevor to the portal spot after. Hey, Ordinary Boy, if you don’t wake up now, Lissa is leaving without you.” This does the trick. Ryan’s eyes snap open. I let out a snort of laughter at his sudden waking but cut it off. “Probably don’t

call him that.” Dark grumbles, “I have to get his attention somehow.” It’s still relatively dark, but sunlight is trickling across the sky. I brush off the sand sticking to my skin and out of my clothes. Ryan stands and grabs his quiver and sword. We follow Dark off the beach. “Do you have any idea where we’ll end up?” I ask somewhat nervously. “Not a clue,” she answers flatly. Great, so we could plop onto the middle of a busy highway or in a classroom filled with kids or into a crocodile-infested lagoon— “We’ll need some money so that we’re not stranded.” Ryan interrupts my runaway thoughts and opens the door to a whole different problem. The idea of a money tree growing here isn’t that farfetched, is it? He seems to be thinking the same thing, but Dark crushes that hope. “Money?” “Yes. It’s green and rectangular—” “There’s nothing like that here,” she cuts him off. So back to earth with no money and no precise landing spot or even an area— my brain puts together more scenarios. Ryan’s eyes gleam. “What if we used a different type of money?” “Like what?” Doesn’t every country use some form of paper? The only other kind of money I can think of is coins, and that would quickly become burdensome. A mysterious smile spreads across Ryan’s face. “Come on. I’ll show you.” He takes my hand and deviates from the path Dark is on. A muttering Dark halfheartedly trails behind us. After crossing hills of field and forest, a thick tangle of opposing vines fight to keep us out. When we get past them, my eyes bulge.

Gold. The grass is gold as are the rocks. The trunks of bushes and trees are normal but their leaves and the palm-sized four-petal flowers and strawberry-like fruit are gold. The only other thing that is not gold is the dirt. I pluck a golden leaf, wondering if it will disappear in my fingers. I rub it between my fingers, try to bend it. “How did you find this place?” “The warriors I traveled with on my way to get Shiver were talking about it.” “Better hurry. We’re running out of time,” Dark informs us unenthusiastically. Ryan tosses me a leaf pack that he seemingly pulls out of nowhere. I don’t waste time asking him where he got it. The sun seems to be rising more swiftly, challenging us. I stuff leaves, rocks, flowers, and fruit until its overfull and I have to dump some out to close the top. The pack, which has a single strap, is made from those sticky green leaves. It could for a duffel bag if it weren’t for the color and if people looked close enough they would find the material very odd. I look over to see Ryan attempting to put his sword in his bag, but it won’t fit with the gold. Yeah, we are definitely going to stand out. “Just carry it and follow me,” Dark says impatiently. Easier said than done. She plows through the vine-wall and leads us over the forested hills that create a second barrier around the golden spot. Dark races over the grassy hills as if the land is flat, finally coming to a stop at the top of one. Trevor watches us approach with a gruff expression, and Shiver bounces several times. Dark sniffs the ground and air then tucks her tail around her paws. “Are you ready?” she asks, looking in the other direction. It only takes one breath, and I can tell exactly where the portal is. I can smell Earth. The air is dry, slightly salty, and oh, the wonderful smell of car exhaust. That is something I have not missed. “Ready as I’ll ever be.” I sigh. I don’t want to leave but can’t stay. Dad needs me

to protect him. I square my shoulders and hold my bag tighter. “We won’t fall from thousands of feet up or land in the ocean, right?” “Only ocean portals lead to the ocean and sky portals to the sky,” Dark answers briskly. Somewhat of a relief. It eliminates some of the unfavorable scenarios, anyway. I look at Ryan. It’ll be okay, he mouths. “I wish I could go with you, Lis, but I think I should stay on Pandorma,” Shiver tells me sadly. I give her a kiss on top of her head. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back,” I tell her before turning to Trevor. “I’m not going,” Trevor says flatly with a shrug. I half expected this, but I didn’t want to hear it. My heart sags with my shoulders. One of the arguments Trevor and I had over the last couple days was about staying on Pandorma. After years of suppressing his wolf side, he didn’t want to go back to that. I could understand and maybe part of me was envious, but I couldn’t stay like he thought I should. “Tell my mom something so she won’t worry okay?” he asks, swallowing hard. “Like what?” I ask. “Make something up. You’ve always been good at that.” Trevor holds me tight, and I draw in a steadying breath, letting his scent lodge in my brain. “Be safe,” I whisper before pulling away. I crouch next to Dark and suck in a breath to say something, but she doesn’t let me. “Don’t. I’ll be seeing you again soon so there’s no need for a goodbye.” She blinks rapidly and presses her head to my chest. I nod, hug her tightly, and then gritting my teeth, I stand before the portal.

There’s no jump to reach this portal. It’s inches above the ground on the sloping side of the hill. I close my eyes and clutch the bag to my chest as I step through. Cool, miniscule raindrops sprinkle onto my skin. I narrow my eyes and look around. It’s drizzling. Patched blacktop is at my toes, and an unearthly, mechanical roar shrieks at my eardrums. Too-bright lights glare at me then , a lungful of smelly air in its wake. I wrinkle my nose. ing that Ryan is right behind me, I quickly step to the side. He appears seconds later, a sigh of relief coming from him after he checks our surroundings. Check for what though? I wouldn’t consider Earth dangerous—not after Pandorma. I bite the inside of my lip. I don’t see what there is to be relieved about. We’re on the outskirts of a big, loud city. Welcome back to Earth.

Chapter 22

I cover my ears with no effect, but the muddle of sounds seem to by my ears and go straight to my head. I adapted to the sensory overload in Pandorma, but this is insane. The assault of unpleasant scents is even worse: smoke, concrete, food, sweat, car exhaust. The harsh glow of neon signs, billboard lights, and the unnatural white glow of light bulbs burn my retinas, and I have to hide my face in Ryan’s shoulder until they adjust. He steps out of the small antique shop, the first open store we came across, and takes my hand. “It won’t be a long walk.” We wind through the confusing maze of tall, windowed buildings following street signs. As we get deeper into the city, I let everything my senses pick up flow in and out with the air I breathe. Memories of the last time I was in a large city with Dad bounce through my mind’s eye, and all the excitement I had felt then rushes through me now. I had been so thrilled to be in a place so huge and alive. It was markedly different from Abandon. Ryan stops in front of a building, South Song Exchange, and we head inside. “Would you rather wait in the lobby while I exchange this?” he asks, gesturing to the bags of gold. “Sure.” I hand him my bag. He es me his bow, quiver, and sword, and I try to make it as inconspicuous as possible, hoping people will assume it’s a toy. I take one of the chairs—I’ve sat on ground comfier than this—and stare out the glass. I watch the many people by, try to guess what their lives must be like. They all look so busy and purposeful. I smile to myself. They have no idea that a portal away, there are living dinosaurs, hidden copses of pure gold, and clouds that can be walked on. “We’re good to go. They had to make sure I didn’t rob a store or something first.” He laughs. “When they asked where I got it from, I told them my wealthy aunt recently ed away.”

“It’s a good thing they don’t know where you really got it from.” As we head out of the building and back into the crowd, he asks, “Should we find a hotel and shower or get new clothes first? Or did you want to grab something to eat?” He slits the top of his bag just enough that he can fit the sword inside. I think for a minute then answer, “Let’s get new clothes. If we showered now, we wouldn’t have anything clean to wear. Then maybe eat.” “Clothes it is then,” he says, taking my hand and giving it a kiss.

“I think I see a pattern here,” I say after Ryan pulls out another off-the-shoulder dress. He shrugs. I pick the green dress with a lace-up front and loose-hanging sleeves, and drape it over my arm with the other clothes I’ve chosen. “I just hope I don’t trip and fall and the skirt flies up.” Ryan throws back his head and laughs. “Lissa, it’s not like you’re clumsy.” “I know. It’s just the kind of thing that would happen to me.” We select pajamas and shoes then head to the . The woman at the covertly looks us up and down, curiosity emanating off her skin. “You two look like you’ve had a rough week,” she comments lightly. “That’s what happens when you underestimate your camping skills,” Ryan jokes. Once paid for, I eagerly scamper into the bathroom and change. Forget showering—I just want to get out of my torn, dirty clothes. Ryan has changed into his new clothes as well. “Don’t you look nice.” I grin as I take in his jeans and short-sleeved shirt. He beams and takes my hand, twirling me before pulling me to his chest. “And

you look amazing.” I throw my old clothes in the first trashcan we once we exit the shop. We walk a few blocks of absurdly crowded streets before I say, “So I don’t the name of the place where Dad is, but we could start there. Once we get home, that is. I don’t think I threw out the paper with the phone number.” His eyes land on the ground, his hand holding mine pulling closer to his body. “Let’s get a hotel and book a flight. I think you should prepare for the worst though.” I frown. “I can’t think that way because if I do, I’m afraid I might lose it. What I do think we should focus on is locating Medusa.” Ryan’s eyes still don’t meet mine. “It might be best to just let her be. Your goal was to stop her from destroying Pandorma, and you did that. If she tries anything here”—he shrugs—“she risks becoming the property of whoever catches her first.” “Do you really see Medusa settling down and taking up the average life of a person?” He glances around, finds what he’s looking for, and pulls me in that direction until we’ve reached an entrance path to a park. He sits on a wood bench, and I do the same. A long, slender pond has been dug into the landscape, the water rippling and reflecting the blue sky and wavy tree figures among its murky-brown color. I wonder how they decided which trees to keep and which to chop. Probably should’ve washed these clothes before wearing them. They reek of chemicals. So does this bench, though it’s not so strong. “After what happened to you, I just—” He laces his hands behind his head, and his jaw clenches. “I don’t think it’s worth the risk. Next time, Xavier might not be there to step in. Or maybe next time he won’t care.” I press my fingers together. “I won’t need Xavier to step in for me again. I’m going to train until I can shift as fast as she does. I’m going to be ready for her.” He huffs a laugh that lacks humor. “Shifting fast doesn’t change much.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Yes, it does. It gave her the upper hand.” Well, that, along with her fierce fighting skills. “And I can’t believe that after everything she did to Pandorma, to me, you want to run home and hide.” His knuckles press white against the bench. “I just don’t want you to face her alone.” I could argue that it’s something I have to do alone, accuse him of doubting my ability, of doubting me. But I pick a different route. “Ryan . . .” “Yeah?” He stares at the ground, but when I don’t finish, he looks over at me. I nervously play with my dress, and this time I don’t look at him. “Maybe I wouldn’t have to do it alone. What if you could shift too? I know it doesn’t seem possible at first but . . . I didn’t think I could either, yet I can.” “I can’t shift,” he says, his voice closed off. “I know you don’t want—” “I said no,” he snaps. A ing couple look our way, and I force a smile. “All right,” I say quietly. I turn away and rest my elbow on top of the bench. I should’ve known better than to bring it up again. Last time the topic came up, he wouldn’t even consider the possibility, wouldn’t even tell me why. Guess I will be going up against her on my own then. The corners of my lips twitch as I withhold the snarky comment. “Let’s go find a hotel,” he says. I follow him silently, equally hurt and annoyed by his response. We walk out of the park, and Ryan flags a cab. He asks the driver for hotel recommendations, and settling on one, the taxi screeches away from the curb, throwing my back against the seat. The quick drive ends with our cab somehow swinging to a stop by the curb without parking on it.

“Thank goodness,” I mutter, glad we reached our destination in one piece. Ryan chuckles as he pays the driver. I grab our two bags of belongings and take in the building’s gold lettered name. This place must be fancy. Ryan pushes open the metal-framed glass door, and we enter the lobby. Polished floor, crystal chandeliers, small velvet couches that quite possibly aren’t as comfy as they look. This is the most magnificent place I’ve ever been in—manmade, that is. Ryan goes to the front desk and asks the man for the best room available. Did we really have so much money from that gold that we could afford a room like that here? I touch everything I set eyes on, scents dropping off tidbits of information. “Lissa,” Ryan calls softly. He’s waiting by the elevator. I jog over and hop on, catching the clerk’s befuddled look before the doors close. It takes me a few minutes to realize why. Here we are asking for the best available room, but all we have are two shopping bags. The hallway is carpeted cherry-red, the walls a pristine eggshell white. Gold Egyptian-like hieroglyphs run along the wall borders. Ryan opens an attractive door and gestures for me to go first. I stand rooted in the doorway, blown away by the expensive-looking room. It’s like a house, an expensive, designer kind of house. He gives me a nudge so he can close the door. I walk through an open door into the bedroom, which probably holds the biggest bed that could possibly be made. At the back, glass doors open onto a balcony. The partly open bathroom door hints at a splendidly large bathtub. Ryan opens the balcony doors and steps out. The unpleasant noises filter in unchecked. I trail after him and look down on the crowded streets. Certainly no shortage of buildings, noise, and people. I lean on the rail and angle my head up instead, the blue expansive blanket soothing. “I’m sorry I snapped at you,” he says. I pull my arms in closer, my shoulders inching up to my ears. “It’s fine.” “It’s not.” His shoulder touches mine. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs in my ear. “I’m

going to book that flight.” I head back in, closing the doors behind me. Not quiet but better. I head for the bathroom, overjoyed to find complimentary soap. After I’m done bathing, I find Ryan still isn’t back—I’d thought I’d taken at least an hour or two just in the tub. I change dresses then climb onto the bed. The material hugs my body as I slowly sink into it. Almost like the clouds. Ryan seemed to flinch at several loud noises, and I don’t think it was my imagination. Maybe he’s just not used to the noise? Pandorma was quiet most of the time—nature isn’t obnoxiously loud. I close my eyes and pull the comforter to my chest. I don’t understand why the idea of being a shifter upsets him so much. I’d think if he really didn’t want me fighting Medusa alone, he’d at least consider it, even if it turns out he can’t. Maybe that’s why. He doesn’t want to entertain the possibility only to be let down. I can’t think of any other reason. It feels like it’s another two hours before Ryan finally returns to our room. We only get five hours of sleep and after a quick side stop, the taxi is carting us to the airport. After checking in our suitcase, Ryan links his hand with mine as we maneuver our way through the large building. He doesn’t let go until we’re seated in plastic chairs. “Lissa, stop making faces,” Ryan grunts, closing his eyes and resting his head on my shoulder. “I can’t help it. Can’t you smell that?” I whisper fiercely. “It smells like bodies and . . . other stuff.” “No, I can’t, and if you don’t stop acting funny, people are going to think you’re suspicious.” “Well, I don’t understand why we can’t just fly.” I flinch at a sharp noise in another part of the building, jostling Ryan. He groans and slouches farther down in his chair. “Like I said, that would attract too much attention.”

I grit my teeth. It would only attract attention if I had to take a form large enough to carry Ryan. I fold my arms across my chest and stare at the person across from me. Their eyes have been glued to their phone for the last hour. Normal, I suppose. I put my elbow on the armrest and continuously run my fingers through my hair. I wish I was back on Pandorma. I don’t belong here anymore.

I bite my thumbnail, lace my fingers with Ryan’s, and lift his hand to my nose. Traces of Pandorma are still locked in the groves of his skin. Plus he smells way better than the inside of this cab. The road, though familiar, looks foreign, and when the house comes into view, I have to pinch my wrist to make sure I’m not dreaming. While Ryan pays the driver, I walk up the porch steps. My thumb presses down the cold metal of the door handle, and ghostly hands of Trevor, Dad, and Mom perform the same action. I reach for the living room lights and flip on memories. Our living room used to be the place where we watched movies and played games on Mom’s carefully handpicked furniture until it became their favorite place to argue after I was supposed to be asleep. Couch forts had been built and perfected the numerous times a younger Trevor had stayed over. I blink. The room is empty and stares at me as if I’m a stranger. “Hey.” Ryan places a hand on my shoulder. I clear my throat. “It’s still early, so that place should be open. I’ll go find that piece of paper.” “You’ve hardly slept since we got back,” he says wearily. He carries the couple bags of groceries to the kitchen, checks the fridge—to see if it’s cold? “Means I have plenty of time to search since I have no idea what I did with it.” I drop our bag of other belongings. “If you take a short nap, I’m sure it will still be open.” He turns away from the open fridge. “I’m kind of worried about you.”

“I’m fine. I just need to know Dad is okay,” I say and start my search in the kitchen drawers. It’s another moment before the grocery bag crinkles and objects scrape across the fridge shelf. I find Mom’s goodbye note with the number first. Please don’t let the service be cut off. I inwardly rejoice when there’s a dial tone. The numbers swim, combining with others. Every fiber in my body begs for sleep, but I can’t. Not yet. My fingers trembling as I press the buttons. Ryan stops what he’s doing and rests against the counter. “Maurette Institute. How can I help you?” “Hi, my name is Lissa Fleming. I called a while ago about my dad, Dwayne Fleming. Can I talk to him?” A pause. To go get him. I exhale. “I’m so sorry. We tried to reach your mother, any family for two weeks, but no one . . .” My stomach constricts, and I stare out the glass doors at the forest. It hums with the setting of the sun, the same way it always did. Nothing has changed around here. Ryan takes the phone from my hand and asks what happened. I can hear her response. I can hear everything. I can hear Medusa’s smirky voice telling Dad why he’s being murdered. I can hear his voice, deep and clear, defying her and fighting back. But she is stronger and faster. Inside its cage, my heart is crushed, and anger constricts my throat, stabs at my lungs when I breathe in. Crack. A small edge of the counter breaks off into my hand. I press the piece into my hand until tiny red pearls appear.

Ryan’s voice comes into focus, and I realize he’s saying my name. I grasp the chip tighter and part my lips. “Lissa, focus on me, okay? I’m right here. I’m with you.” I shake my head and pace. I clasp my hands and roll the counter chip between them. “She did it.” Hot anger fills my lungs. “A big cat she said. How could a wild animal slip in without anyone noticing and take the life of only one person.” Blood gurgles around inside my hands, endeavoring to slip out between the cracks. “She won’t get away with this.” “Hold on.” Ryan firmly grabs my shoulder. “Let go.” “Think for a minute. You don’t know where she is.” “Well, I’ll find her!” I wrench my arm out of his grasp and make for the back doors. “Fighting Medusa won’t fix anything, and you’re not ready for that yet. Stay. Please. I promise you, we’ll go after her, but we need to be ready for her.” I drop my forehead against the glass and close my eyes. How familiar this spot must be with my troubles. I always come to it, lean on it for . The counter chip still presses into one hand. I press harder until it rubs against bone. How can everything look the same when something would always be missing? Tears blur the forest. The cold floor catches me, numbing my skin. Ryan’s arms hold me tight, but they could’ve been that of a ghost for all I can feel. With each sob, my lungs seem to hitch higher into my throat. Maybe they want to get away from my wretched soul. “I can’t believe I left. I never should’ve left him.” “Don’t blame yourself for Medusa’s actions,” he says firmly. He pulls my hair away from my neck, rests his head against mine. “It wasn’t your fault.” I sink into another bout of coughing sobs, hardly noticing when Ryan picks me

up and moves me to the couch. To escape the deluge of memories, I walk through Pandorma, recollecting every tiny detail I possibly can until I’ve walked myself out of the depths of grief. With no tissues in the house, I have to use toilet paper to blow my nose. Thankfully Mom didn’t take that too. I sit on the edge of the tub and press my hands to my face. I didn’t want to think. I didn’t want to move. If I moved too much, my brain would too. And I didn’t want to move into a time where Dad isn’t hiding around a corner or waiting for me to tell him how my life is going. Medusa stole part of my life by removing him from it. But my life also didn’t end when she wanted it to. Thanks to Xavier. “I don’t owe him anything,” I mutter and go downstairs. Hands shoved in his pockets, Ryan stares out the back doors. I take a deep breath. “How are we going to find Medusa?” He walks to the other end of the kitchen then back to me. “I’ll bet she’s going to keep her head pretty low. None of us want governments to get involved. We have the money. Let’s see if a private investigator can’t track her down.” He rests an arm on the counter and rubs his eyes. “For training . . . I don’t know. We’ll go based off what Cuven had us doing. Or something. Except I’ll time your shifts so that we know—” The steady drum of wingbeats vibrates my eardrums. That sounds way too big to be just a bird. I hurry to the back doors. The glass cracks as I simultaneously jam down the handle and shove the door open. Even in the fading shadows of light, the dragon perched on the grass is unmistakable. Ryan brushes past me, temporarily blocking the crumpled figure on the ground. I don’t need scent. I know it’s Trevor. The dragon folds its wings and melts into the form of a woman. Medusa.

Acknowledgments

A warm thank you to my family for always being there for me. A special thank you to my sister, Emi, for being my very first fan, and for enjoying the first version of Shift. And to my other sister, Zipporah, thank you for being another one of my wonderful readers. Thank you to my mom for braving that first version and being impressed with my fledgling writing skills. A thank you to my editor, Carly Hayward, for helping me sharpen and improve my writing. I’m very grateful to my cover designer, WGOULART, for being so patient with me and for doing such a wonderful job on the cover. And finally, thank you to all my friends and family for being excited about my book getting published when I often didn’t feel that way myself!

About the Author

Mikaela lives in Western New York with her three cockatiels and a rambunctious English Shepard. Though she has several stories scattered throughout notebooks, Shift is her first novel and the first in the Shift series. If you want to find out more about her books, visit mikaelanicole.com.