SOFI
I felt like a husk, a hollow shell of a person that had been drained of all energy, all emotion, all thought, everything that had made me human. I was exhausted and numb, and the only emotion I could muster was a faint trace of annoyance that my weary body wouldn’t just let me sleep.
But every time I came close, I would jerk awake, a subtle feeling of wrongness, of something missing, pulling me back and reminding me of everything that had happened.
I must have fallen asleep eventually though, because the next time I jerked awake, the bright glow of sunlight was visible through the window. The same window through which, just moments later, a heavy rock came flying. The sound of breaking glass was loud in the small room, and I let out an involuntary shriek, my hands pulling ineffectually at their restraints as my nerves jumped, adrenaline flooding my system and forcing me fully awake.
“Who’s there?”
I watched as a cloth-wrapped hand came up, carefully breaking out the remaining shards of glass before reaching through and forcing open the latch. Another hand joined the first, pulling up the frame, and then a voice I couldn’t quite place hissed through the opening. “Are you alone?”
“What? Who—”
“Are you alone?” the voice repeated.
“Yes, but—”
I broke off when a face appeared in the empty window, followed by the rest of the body. The woman heaved herself up onto the sill, swinging her legs awkwardly through the narrow space to drop to the floor on the inside.
The face belonged to the last person I would ever have expected to see.
“Ms. Kross?”
Darja’s old taja from the koolis didn’t stop to acknowledge me, instead crossing the room to poke her head out of the door and peer down the hallway. Only then did she turn back to glance at me. “Keys?”
“What?”
“Keys.” She gestured at my restraints.
Oh. My mind was slow, bogged down with confusion.
“I’m sure my dad took them. There should be a second set in the nurse’s office, but it’ll be—”
I didn’t get the word ‘locked’ out before she fumbled with the door and disappeared down the hallway, but she must have found a way into the office because she was back only a few minutes later, a ring of keys on a lanyard clutched in her hand.
She crossed straight to the bed and began working on the shackles that bound my ankles.
“Ms. Kross, what the hell—wait.” I bolted upright, staring out the window. “What time is it?”
She seemed to know what I meant, because without stopping she said, “Nine-forty. Everyone is gathered at the fairgrounds.”
“What?!” My heart leaped into my throat. The ceremony was set to start at ten. Had the others made it back to town? Were they at the fairgrounds or were they out looking for me? “Hurry,” I shouted, as the lock around my ankles finally sprang free and she moved up, grasping the restraint around my left wrist.
“Don’t worry,” she said roughly. “I’ll get you there.”
What was even happening?
“Ms. Kross, what are you doing here? What’s going on?”
She only spared a quick glance my way, but I could see the agonized look in her eyes.
“I followed you and that officer. Last night. I know everything.”
Wait—what?
“Why?” I demanded. “What were you—?”
She dropped the restraint abruptly, raising her head to meet my eyes, and I flinched at the emotion there.
“Look, I’m the one who reported Darja’s disappearance to the police.”
“Why would you do that? You know what happened to her. You were there.” I felt like my head was spinning, and fury burned in my blood. “You’re the one who drugged her and threw her into the fire!”
Her eyes dropped to the bed. “I know,” she choked out. “I didn’t think it would affect me like it did. I’ve been attending Spring Day ceremonies ever since my own, and at the koolis…well, let’s just say Darja’s not the first girl I’ve lost to the flames.”
“‘Lost to the flames,’” I spat. “Like it was an accident. Like it wasn’t something you did.” It occurred to me after the words were out that maybe I shouldn’t antagonize the woman before she’d finished unlocking my bindings, but I couldn’t hold back my contempt. It didn’t matter though—the contempt didn’t seem to be one-sided.
“I know,” she said again, tears filling her eyes. “I see Darja’s face every night when I close my eyes. If I could take it back, don’t you think I would?” She dashed her hand against her face, wiping away tears. “I don’t know what I was thinking; I knew it wouldn’t make any difference, but I thought maybe if the police started looking…maybe if people knew, then…”
I sighed tiredly, my chest loosening as the anger drained away. “Well, you’re too late, they already knew.”
Her head shot up again, fire lighting her own eyes. “I heard. I can’t believe…” Then her eyes widened. “I also heard…is it true? Your binding worked?”
I nodded. I hoped it was still working, even if I couldn’t feel it.
“Is she…” She cleared her throat. “How is she?”
I didn’t even begin to know how to answer that. “She’s dead,” I said flatly, then jerked my remaining bound wrist. “And the rest of the town will be too if you don’t hurry up and let me out of here.”
Ms. Kross hurried around to the other side of the bed and made quick work of the last restraint.
“Can you stop it?” she asked as I sat up, rubbing my wrists. “The festival?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know. Probably not. But I need to get there, now.”
“Come on, my car is outside.”
I was sure everyone would be at the fairgrounds by this point, and I doubted anyone would be left guarding the office, but we went out through the window just in case.
Ms. Kross hesitated by the side of the car. “Will you…will you tell Darja I’m sorry?”
“Come with me and you can tell her yourself.” I opened the passenger’s door and slid into the seat, before giving her a hard look. “She won’t forgive you. But you should tell her anyway.”
We’d agreed that the five of us would come to the fairgrounds early, before the crowds started to arrive, so we could find a good place to hide where we would still be able to see everything that was going on and cast our spells. That, of course, was before I’d decided to take matters into my own hands and screwed everything up. I had no idea where they would be hiding, if they were even here at all, and not off trying to find me. God, I was such an idiot.
The parking lot at the fairgrounds was filled to overflowing, and Ms. Kross pulled her car into a spot in the grass. The second the engine was off I ducked out of the car and into the crowd, keeping my head down and trying hard to avoid notice. Everyone knew everyone else in this town, and I had to get through the crowd before someone saw me who knew I wasn’t supposed to be there. I didn’t wait for Ms. Kross. She could keep up if she wanted to.
I had desperately hoped that whatever spell my father had cast on my bond with Darja would fade with proximity, and I’d be able to feel her again once I got close enough, but nothing changed as I carefully maneuvered around the clusters of people. I prayed that didn’t mean they weren’t here. And what if my father’s spell had done more to our bond than make me unable to feel it? What if it meant we couldn’t do magic together? I shivered despite the hot June morning, and rubbed my palms against my arms.
Unsure of where to go, I headed in the general direction of the main stage. I stayed near the furthest edge of the crowd, where I was practically hidden by the orchard trees, trying my best to avoid the families on picnic blankets, the kids running wild with ribbons streaming from their hair. I could remember countless other Midsummer and Spring Day festivals, when it had been me running across the lawn, chased by my brothers and sisters. I felt a pang, but I ruthlessly tamped it down. It was too late—I could never go back to that naive innocence. I wouldn’t want to.
It had to be after ten o’clock by then, and I could see the cluster of Council members gathered on the stage, but nothing seemed to be getting started just yet. The barest wave of relief flooded through my tightly-ratcheted nerves. At least I wasn’t too late.
I was jerked out of my musings at the sight of a pair of familiar faces, and ducked my head, letting my hair fall to curtain my face as my pulse sped. Anna Saar and Liz Koppel sat together on checked blankets, surrounded by their families, laughing together over some private joke. I immediately changed direction.
“Where are we going?” a voice hissed beside me, and I startled. I’d forgotten Ms. Kross was even here.
“I don’t know,” I whispered back. “If they’re here, they’ll be hiding somewhere nearby, but we didn’t have a chance to—”
The words choked off in my throat as I caught sight of another pair of faces. My alarm this time though wasn’t at the fear of being recognized, but instead at the horror of the vision in front of me. The two faces belonged to Henri and Marleen Luts, the pair that had performed the first spell together at the town meeting less than a month before. The couple looked…awful—as if they’d aged decades in a single month. Both were hunched in their lawn chairs, grey-tinged skin hanging loose on gaunt frames, dark bags beneath dull eyes, hair lank and pale. Bile rose in my throat. Darja had been right—not that I’d ever doubted her—but faced with the two withered bodies of people who not four weeks earlier had been vital, healthy-looking people, it was obvious that something in that spell had gone terribly wrong. How did no one else see this? Or maybe they did, but they just didn’t care.
“I think I know where they are.” Ms. Kross’s whisper broke into my trance and I wrenched my attention away.
“What?”
“Look.”
Edging close to my side, she indicated toward the front of the crowd. “Watch the flap under the stage.”
It didn’t take long to see what she meant. The stage was raised on a platform maybe four or five feet off the ground, and dark plastic sheeting ran around the edge like a skirt. Near the front center, the flap had been pulled back slightly, a small window into the darkness beneath the stage, but as I stared, I thought I detected a flash of movement.
“There it is again,” Ms. Kross said in a low voice.
“I saw it. Let’s go.”
Keeping my head down and my hair swinging in my face, I hurried toward the edge of the crowd and together, we circled the raised platform until we were out of sight of everyone on the lawn.
I sucked in a breath and ducked through the plastic, Ms. Kross close on my heels.
It was dark beneath the stage, dank and cool, the ground soft under my shoes. I tried not to picture all the spiders down here with us as I carefully maneuvered around the thick wooden support beams, hunching over awkwardly as I hurried toward the front of the stage.
The whispered voices might not carry beyond the barrier of the skirt, but they were loud enough to my ears in the near-darkness, and a palpable rush of relief flooded my veins as I recognized Mirtel’s voice.
I couldn’t help myself.
“Darja.” It came out in a whisper-shout, and the answering call of “Oh God, Sofi,” was like music to my ears. Squelching footsteps came closer, and then they were there, all of them, hunched over in the cramped space beneath the stage, and I nearly sagged with relief as my dead bonded half-sister threw her arms around me. I couldn’t feel a thing except a lingering sensation of cold, but it was still the best hug I’d ever received.