“WHERE IS IT?”

Benny’s shouts carry all the way to the top of the attic stairs. I draw in a sharp breath, but that triggers the coughing again. I can barely muffle it against my sleeve.

Outside the attic window, the late afternoon sun sinks farther. Soon the moon will rise. Nearly a full moon. I only have one day to spare, as tomorrow the moon will be completely round and bright. I need to sneak out to the sundial garden. I need to set the comic book in its place on the wall of ivy. I need to complete the spectral shield to protect Foxfire. All eight rainbow colors just like in the manufacturer’s description. A complete set.

And yet.

As soon as I stand up from the stairs, my vision goes black, and I immediately sit down again. My lungs. The beast that waits there, deep beneath the stillwaters, is clawing at my throat.

I throw a hand over my mouth. Not now. Please. Not tonight.

I try to think soothing thoughts: Water flowing down my throat. Warm melted chocolate. Fresh milk straight from the pail. But the tickle won’t be ignored. It grows into a briary rose that someone is scratching up and down the insides of my throat.

“NO!” Benny yells. “Someone took it!”

There are frantic footsteps and more shouting from beyond the attic door. Benny saw me sneaking around in his room. Benny has sharp eyes like a hunting dog. He will know it was me.

But he can search my room all he wants—he won’t find it.

I take one long look outside. Is Foxfire waiting for me? Is the Black Horse blinking, clearing his vision, waiting for the light of tomorrow’s full moon so he can attack again? But my limbs are shaking and my vision is going wavy and it’s all I can do to crawl to my attic room. One inch at a time, each step its own small battle, and I think of the men in the rubble, lungs choked with dust from German bombs, crawling and crawling to safety. At last, I reach my bedroom. I kick the door shut and lean against it, breathing hard. The stillwaters beast is not going to calm down this time. It came for Anna and now Anna is gone and it wants more lungs to thrash around in, other throats to claw and shred.

I pull myself onto the rope mattress and collapse on the quilt. The cough comes freely now. I let it. It shreds the inside of my throat, forcing its way out. I feel like someone is wringing me out. No water left. No life left. I taste the bitter bite of blood. Beyond the doors, there come angry footsteps stomping up the stairs.

They stop outside of my door.

KNOCK, KNOCK.

Benny’s voice. “I know it was you, you thief!”

The door opens a few inches. Benny’s angry face haunts the crack, his sharp eyes hunting around the room, his spindly nose sniffing. Then he sees me and his eyes go wide. “Emmaline? Are you…” He stumbles back. “Sister Constance, come quick! There’s blood everywhere!”

His footsteps going down the stairs are even faster.

I smile. It is the last thing I remember, before my head lolls back. I smile, and think of the rainbow that Marjorie and I saw that day in the rain. I was afraid it would be the last one I’d ever see.

But soon. Soon. I will finish my own.