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A pink hue brightened the sky. Little birds assembled on the tree branches and chirped, celebrating the spring. All over the park, flowers had bloomed, giving off a mix of beautiful aromas.
"Are you happy with your new book, sweetie?" Grandpa asked as he tied my hair with a butterfly-shaped band.
"Very much, Grandpa," I cheered, dangling my feet off the bench and gazing at the unicorn on the cover of my new storybook. "Can you read the name for me?"
"I can. I can," said young Tara, raising both hands with excitement. "It’s the Little White Horse."
"Look at you, big girl." Grandpa patted her on the head.
The ice-cream bike chimed from a distance. Young Tara put her hands together. "Grandpa, please. Can I get one?"
Grandpa turned to me. "Do you want one?"
"Hmmm." I put my finger on my chin. "Can we still have cake later?"
"Of course we’ll have cake. It’s your birthday," he said joyfully, giving me a wide grin.
Grandpa asked me to wait while he and Tara went to get the ice cream. Had I known what was about to come, I would’ve never let them go. Clueless, I watched a family sitting on a picnic blanket—the kids capering around while the mother unboxed lunch. We had never done that before, at least not with Mother on board.
A gurgling sound shifted my attention to the wishing well nearby. Shyly, I approached and looked at my reflection in the water. "Hello, magic well," I said. "I don’t have any pennies, but it’s my birthday. Can you make my wish true?"
I hesitated.
"Can you bring Daddy back to us? If Daddy is back, Mommy will be happy and stay with us more. We can all go on a picnic. Picnics are nice."
The water whirled, and my eyes lit up, thinking the magic well had granted my wish. But then there was a howl. The birds stopped singing and winged their way in the air. I tried to step away, but the water pulled me. I screamed my way into the well until I hit a hard floor.
"I have been waiting for you," a voice said. I lifted my head to see a handsome prince with long hair that glistened in the sunlight. We were in a round room with strange-looking books.
"Please, help me," I cried out. "I fell into the magic well."
"You have nothing to fear now, child," he said. As he came closer, I sensed something unpleasant about him. I held my storybook close like a safety blanket.
He crouched and pulled me up to standing. Holding my face, he whispered something. Warm tears flew down my cheeks and to his freezing hands, and a white light came out of my mouth. It felt like he was pulling out my insides.
For a second, the man looked happy, so happy that it scared me. But then the white light changed direction, going back into my body.
"Impossible." Jivar let go of me. "The soul is rejecting me. I cannot take you."
I didn’t understand what he said. Weeping, I begged him to take me home.
***
I sat in a dark room where I barely made up the furniture. Covering my mouth, I tried to control the sobs and not make a noise. A crack of light peeked from under the door, and I overheard two people talking. "What is Lord Jivar thinking?" said a boy with an unforgiving tone. "This is not an orphanage."
"He said she’s a noble witch," a girl replied. "Tell me, brother, can you beat a noble witch?"
He snorted. "She’s just a child."
"Now. But when she grows up, she’ll be his favorite."
"What are you saying, Viessa?” the boy spoke with irritation.
There was an awkward pause, broken when the girl began to hum. "Row, row, row, your boat, gently d—"
"Will you stop this already?!" the boy yelled. "What the hell are you holding in your hands?"
"A story. The girl had it with her."
"Give it to me. Maybe it’s a secret spellbook."
Viessa tittered.
"What are you laughing about, you lunatic?" the boy asked. "This is not a spellbook. It’s just trash."
The book thudded on the floor.
Although fear had numbed all my other emotions, a part of me grieved for losing that storybook—the one familiar thing in a world of unknowns. But destiny had its way of weaving things together. Not that I knew it at the time, but the book I lost ended up with Doyle, who found it on the floor of the castle. It was the first book he ever read, the one that shaped the person he grew up to be, bringing us closer before we even met.
***
I shrieked. Something in my leg popped as a stranger dragged me by the arm and swaggered along the stone bridge. The stars overhead shone glaringly, helping me see the hateful face of my kidnapper. He was dressed in a purple coat and had an ashy smell that tingled my nose.
"Please, let me go," I cried.
"I told you to stay quiet." He squeezed my wrist in his giant hand. "You’re a pest, and they call you noble. I’ll show you what real power can do."
As the stranger rushed me along the bridge, a voice blared through the night, causing his hand to shiver. "Zaros," it said, and the stranger halted, forcing me to stop. His knees buckled at the sight of the prince emerging from the darkness.
"L-lord J-ivar." Zaros buried his head.
"Let go of the girl," Jivar commanded, and finally, my hand was free.
"You don’t need her, my lord," Zaros begged. "I’m all you need. I’ll grow powerful and—"
A loud slap sounded when Jivar slammed his hand at Zaros’s cheek. My heart sank, not knowing which one of them to fear more.
"You disobeyed," Jivar said, and Zaros threw his forehead to the ground.
Crouching to match my level, Jivar put his hand on my shoulder. "Listen to me, Echo. It is unsafe for you to stay here, but we shall meet again." His eyes flashed a red color. "Go home. Forget what happened today."
***
For years, I had blocked the memories of the day Jivar and I first met, but they came to me as I sat on the cold floor of a dark prison cell with rusty iron bars. Did this really happen? I pressed my hands to my head. No wonder I hated Oracles Park. The thought of Doyle and the book brought warmth to my heart, but it was overpowered by everything that had happened.
Across the room appeared a shadow of a person.
"Hello," I said, but she didn’t answer. When I waved, she waved back. When I clapped my hands together, so did she. "Is this a mirro—?"
"Boo!" She jumped closer to show herself. Standing in front of me was...well, me. The brown hair and green eyes, the red-and-black plaid shirt, the silly grin on her face—she was me.
I smacked my chest."Who the hell are you?"
"A friend. A guide, maybe."
"And why do you look like me?"
"I thought it’d be easier to show up in a face you like," she said with a shrug. "Any special requests?" She winked.
I had no tolerance for jokes. Opening my palm, I created a fireball the size of a watermelon. "What do you want?"
"Heeey." She stepped back. "Put that off. I came in peace."
"Speak." I withheld the attack.
"I’m here to talk to you about Jivar," she said. "What the hell happened in the Barag?"
"The Barag?" My memory glitched. "I remember he said something. He said I’m his secret weapon. What does this mean?"
"Poor thing. Haven’t you figured it out yet? Let me enlighten you," she spoke with an annoyingly cheery voice. "For Jivar’s ritual to work, he needs the grimoire created from the essence of his soul. But before immortality, Jivar wasn’t noble."
"And what does that have to do with me?"
"Everything. As the chosen witch, your soul was created from Jivar’s essence. You’re his echo, Echo." She laughed.
"That’s absurd." I crinkled my nose.
"How else do you explain the things you do? Your proficiency in the dark arts. Your ability to use different elements. You can only do these things because he can. You two are connected."
"No way..."
"This is all a part of Jivar’s plan," she added. "From the moment Katarus showed up at your sister’s wedding. Who do you think sent them? Jivar wanted you to master your powers so you can help him."
"Impossible." I shook my head.
"You’ve always known, Echo." She folded her arms and offered a sly grin. "All you have is your dedication. Isn’t that what you told Kirby?"
"Shut up," I croaked with frustration.
"Don’t get mad at me." She threw her hands up. "I’m here to help. At this rate, you’ll be the one doing the rising ritual for Jivar, killing Doyle and everyone else."
Heidi’s words rang in my mind: When the war comes, you won’t be fighting Jivar. You’ll be helping him.
"Jivar will use the Magic of Minds on you," she said. "You won’t be able to say no."
"God," I uttered as my head hung helplessly. "What am I going to do?"
"I can’t answer that," she said. "I can, however, show you a glimpse of the future."
***
We teleported to a moldy basement, where a group of people huddled on a torn-up blanket. Dirt streaked their faces and clothes.
"How’s she doing?" one of them whispered, and I recognized her voice immediately.
Heidi? She looked defeated, helpless, unlike the obstinate cop I knew. When I looked closer, I saw another familiar face, sitting next to her with a child in her arms.
"Not good." Tara pressed a wet cloth on Lillian’s forehead. "I hope they make it back with the drug."
"I hope they make it back." Heidi lowered her head.
"Tara? What’s wrong?" I cried out, but my sister never looked at me.
"It’s a vision, Echo," the guide said. "They can’t hear or see you."
Everyone turned when the metal door squeaked open. Heidi raised her gun. Into the room, four people carried an injured man that I also recognized.
"Jackson," Tara screamed. She handed the child over to Heidi and hastened to see her husband.
"He’ll be fine," someone said. "Let him rest."
"We have Lillian’s drug." Jackson raised his limp arm with a bottle of medicine. The rip in his shirt revealed his wounded shoulder.
"I’ll take care of it." Heidi took the medicine and hurried to give it to the child.
The metal door clanked when Vanna closed it. I hadn’t noticed her. In the dim corner, she seated herself, saying nothing.
"Where’s Kirby?" Tara asked her, but she didn’t reply. Looking at her husband, Tara shed a tear. "Oh my God."
"This place ain’t safe anymore," a woman said. "We gotta move."
"To where?" Heidi asked. "The entire area is surrounded."
"Isn’t she a spirit or whatever?" The woman pointed at Vanna. "She should find someplace safe for us."
"She’s right." A man stood up. "Why don’t you use your powers to get us out of here?"
"Leave her alone, Jeff," Jackson tried to shout.
"Have a heart," Tara shouted through her tears. "She just lost her brother."
"We all lost people," Jeff replied. "But she promised to protect us."
"And I did," Vanna broke in as she pushed herself up to face them. Her blood-shot eyes glinted in the dark basement. "After the rising, my brother and I could’ve traveled back to our world, but we chose to stay and help. For six months, we have been endangering our lives to protect you, and in the end..." Her voice wobbled with emotions. "In the end..." Her lips trembled as her eyes betrayed her. Vanna, whom I had never seen tear up, was weeping.
"My brother is dead, and soon you’ll all follow. I’ll be left alone in the remains of this dead world."
"Don’t say this," Tara cried out. "I have hope. What about Zaros? He said he’d find a safe dimension for us."
"This was months ago, Tara," Heidi said. "He’s probably dead by now."
"What about the Magic Board? The governments? The armies?" Tara screamed her lungs out. "Don’t tell me it’s over. I have a child who barely lived."
"What happened here?" I asked the guide, aghast. "Did Jivar do all this?"
"Jivar?" She scoffed. "Oh, honey. You have no idea."
We teleported outside, where I saw ruins of buildings, broken bridges, and shattered cars. Rotten bodies littered the street, and in the sky, a four-headed beast prowled for corpses to eat.
"Jivar’s plan backfired," the guide explained. "He opened the borders between seven different dimensions, unleashing hell on this one. In the end, he failed to control his beasts. They killed him, as well as many others. One-tenth of humans survived."
"I can’t believe this." I collapsed to my knees and cried out hysterically, "Why are you showing me this? What do you want me to do?"
"Verily, I find amusement in your suffering." The guide’s voice became deeper, manlier. I looked up to see she had revealed her true face, Jivar’s.
***
Here’s the secret of the Magic of Minds: To hold sway over someone, you must spot their biggest fear. That was the mind game Jivar played, and I was his victim. Back at the Barag, he pulled me close and put his hands on my waist. Classical music played out of nowhere, and Jivar motioned me to the melody.
"Why are we here?" I asked. As we swayed, I almost tripped over the tail of my clothes. When did I change into this? Jivar had me wearing a medieval-style beaded dress with a corset that made it difficult to breathe.
"It is about time we get acquainted, Echo," he said.
"Is this a nightmare within a nightmare thing?"
"This is not a dream," he replied. "But we are inside your head. Tell me, Echo. What do you fear the most?"
"Being stuck in your arms for another second." I tried to free myself.
Jivar drew a superior grin. "I can tell that you fear the future as well as your inadequacy."
Jivar twirled me around when the music hit its climax. My heart sank. It felt like the entire room rotated, then I was back in his arms.
"You live on borrowed power," he said. "Without the essence of my soul, you have nothing. Is this why you fear being exposed?"
"I’ve earned my power, Jivar." I gritted my teeth. "By working harder than anyone and practicing every day so I can beat you."
"Magnificent." He let go of me. "I need you to be powerful. How else are you going to perform my ritual."
"I won’t perform anything for you." I held my head, which had become dizzy from the dancing.
Jivar and I locked eyes as if we were in a staring contest. While rage burned through me, his face showed indifference.
"It is saddening," he said. "How you bring pain to people who care about you, Echo."
The words came to me. I feel like I bring pain to people who care about me. I had said this to Kirby back on the roof. "What are you talking about?" I tried to stay undaunted.
"Your mother, your grandfather, your sister..." he counted. "And your father. If only you knew what you did to him."
"My father died in an accident before I was born."
"Did he?" His knowing smirk stirred my anxiety.
***
Blush-rose curtains hung on the windows. "What is this place?" I asked, looking around like a lost child searching for a familiar face. On the table sat my mother’s panther figurine and Tara’s old teddy. Yet it wasn’t our house but an apartment I didn’t know.
Into the room, my mother walked along with a man. She rested on the couch while he rushed to light up the fireplace.
Is this? I recognized him from the photos. Leonard Knight, the number one lawyer on Oracles Island. He had an ardent spirit and a silly grin that I took after him. For a moment, I was happy to see my dad—to hear his voice and learn what he smelled like, to be with him in the same room. Then I realized Jivar created that vision. No matter how desperate I was, it couldn’t go well.
The crackling flames burned, slowly warming up the room. "Thanks for taking Tara to your parents’ house," Mother said. "I needed some quiet time."
"I wish I could do more to help," Dad replied.
"You’re busy at work, and my hormones are out of whack these days. I don’t want to drag you into the drama."
"Drag me? We’re a team, Lillian." He sat next to her and kissed her on the forehead. "Anything for you and the girls."
"Anything for the girls," Mother repeated with a sad smile.
"Why are we here?" I turned to Jivar, clutching my dress. "This isn’t my memory."
"Not in the conventional sense," he replied. "It’s a moment you lived when you were inside this woman."
"I don’t want to be here." Please.
He couldn’t care less about what I wanted.
The doorbell sounded. I followed my father outside to see a young boy in a purple topcoat too big for him. "Lillian Blackwood," Zaros said. "Does she live here?"
"No, no, no. This didn’t happen." I slapped my head repeatedly, hoping to wake up from this nightmare. "Get me out of here."
Zaros barged into the apartment. Without lifting a finger, he slammed my father against the wall.
"What are you?" Dad cried out in horror. He reached for a vase to throw at Zaros, but the vase suddenly burned up, scorching my father’s hand.
"Ahhh," my father groaned and gasped. A small sculpture, a candle, a key chain—he threw whatever he had in reach at Zaros, but they turned into ashes. It wasn’t hard to imagine what would happen next.
"Get me out of here," I begged Jivar, trying to look away.
"You must learn the truth," he said, "No matter how ugly it is."
"You sick bastard!" I uttered, pressing my hands to my head. "I don’t want to watch my father die."
The ceiling lamp flickered with my rising agony. Upon my cry, the apartment shattered like glass, vanishing into nothing. Suddenly, we were back at the Barag.
"How did I do this?" I let my hands rest.
"I told you, Echo. We are inside your head," he replied. "Do you not care to know how your mother escaped that day?"
"Burn in hell, Jivar," I said, unable to hold back. "Di lucis, commoda mihi potestatem tuam."
In the million times I had imagined facing Jivar, I never expected my rage to outweigh the fear. From my hands emerged a beam of light that sprang at him in the form of two panthers, letting out their full-throated roars.
"Explodere." I blew up the ceiling, and the bricks fell like raindrops in a downpour.
Jivar killed the first panther and turned the bricks into dust. "A falling ceiling? Is this your best attack?"
"That wasn’t the attack," I said, glancing at the broken ceiling from which sunlight streamed. "O scorching sun. I summon your essence into me."
As my body heated up, a focused blaze arose from my palms and darted towards Jivar, who blocked it with a barrier.
He’s calm and deliberate. Reminds me of Vanna.
I have always had one advantage over her.
I’m unpredictable.
"Rimanis loved the hilis, didn’t she?" I asked.
"What—"
"Speculo." A mirror-like energy screen surrounded Jivar, reflecting the blaze at him and weakening his barrier. I turned the marble floor into shackles that trapped his ankles, giving my panther time to launch at Jivar, leaving its claw marks on his cheeks.
But a scrape on the cheek was the best I could do. Despite his momentary confusion and being trapped in my two spells, Jivar killed the panther.
I can’t keep this up. My body shook as I tried to hold the spells. I had to throw him off guard. "Even without your soul, you cared enough to plant her favorite flower in your garden." I pushed myself to create one more panther that attacked from behind, but Jivar dodged. "Did you ever think that, perhaps, your soul left traces?"
"This is enough," he said before freezing everything in the room. Cold air tore through my heated skin. The panther, the mirrors, the books, and the remains of the blaze were covered in ice.
What the hell is this? My chest ached.
Steam roiled in the air as Jivar melted the ice around his feet. He strutted towards me. The frozen tiles cracked underneath him.
"You can continue to attack me, and I shall defend myself," he said. "But none of this matters, Echo. Do you know why?"
I swallowed.
"Because I found your biggest fear." He pulled me by the shoulders. Beyond the facade of anger, he could see what I feared most. He knew it had already happened.
"Tell the truth, Echo." His eyes flashed red as he commanded. "What happened to Viessa?"
"Doyle and Ebba traveled in time and saved her from the farm when she was young," I admitted. My eyes shot open. Wha-what’s happening?
"How are they able to master such a spell?" he asked.
"Ebba." I tried to press my lips shut, but the words forced themselves out of my mouth. "Ebba is Lú. She has the Magic of Time."
None of the things I confessed seemed to surprise Jivar. "How are you planning to stop the rising?"
Oh, God. Please, don’t answer. Keep your mouth shut, Echo. "By reversing Lú’s immortality spell. I have all the ingredients ready."
Jivar snickered. His laugh was unamused, lifeless. He looked at me, and his eyes flashed red again. "Two days from now, at the time of the eclipse, I will send someone for you and Doyle. You shall accompany him to the Lone Mountain, where you will perform my ritual. Do not speak of this with anyone. You can neither resist nor escape my command. Wherever you are, I will be in your head, Echo."
***
I woke up on the living room couch, gasping. The Book of Recreation had dropped to the floor when I fell asleep. On the table, the empty cups of coffee remained. They had been there all night.
My brain hurt at the ugly realization. I never went to the Barag or met Jivar. In my sleep, he came to me and commanded that I do his ritual. I was obliged to obey and forbidden from sharing what happened with my friends. He won. My heart tumbled. Jivar won.
