“Why did she want you to know that?”

The absence of trust in her carefully arranged features, in her desolate stare, in the taut line of her shoulders, broke Sinastar's heart. It seemed every step towards his younger cousin prompted several steps back on her side. When he used stronger planks of wood to build a bridge for them to use, she searched for rocks big enough to break it down.

And I can't blame her, no matter what she does. He wanted to wrap his arms around the crying child inside her, the hurt child standing in front of him, and tell her how much he understood. How much he wanted to protect her from everything in the future even though he had been unable to save her from anything in the past.

But he couldn't.

Is this how you feel, Saytar? Even now? As usual, the long haired ghost that constantly stood beside him didn't answer, her deep brown eyes dull. Both alike and completely different from the girl opposite her, whose aura hummed with a wild vitality that often took his breath away.

“I've always believed it's because I was the last one left.” He pocketed the note from Saytarnia but kept his fingers wrapped around it. “Besides you.”

“Why did she leave you in the first place?” Satara spoke again before he could misinterpret her question. “Alive, I mean. She obviously doesn't have a problem with killing kids. Or was that something she perfected after she killed our clan?”

Our clan. Her confession, however subtle, warmed him despite everything. She's starting to believe me, even if she hasn't realised it yet.

“Tara, I don't think you can just –” Jason moved to stand adjacent to them and waved his hand uncomfortably in Sinastar's direction “– you know? Ask stuff like that.”

“You said I could come to you about my own memories, right?” Satara waited until he nodded. “Aren't I allowed to ask you about yours too?”

An unwritten contract lingered in her tone, her terms highlighted in red and blue. A request – no, a demand – to walk beside him instead of behind. A warning that she was more than capable of making footsteps of her own, the way she had been for the last decade.

You don't have to do that any more, Satara. Not when I can cut out a path, break a fall, or clear the way for you now. The ghost beside him closed her eyes and sighed. I know. I know, okay?

“Saytarnia and I were friends as well as cousins before they took you away,” he admitted. “I'm not sure if she left me alive because of our past. Or if that note is a threat.”

“What?” Fear dashed across Jason's face.

“I don't know if Saytarnia means to finish what she started in our homeland once she gets Satara back. It's why she left in the first place.” Though she didn't say anything, his younger cousin's expression iced over. “But, as we know, she's had the chance to take you with her twice now but she hasn't. I can only guess why she hasn't but it must have been something important to distract her from you.”

“What do you think they are?” For a moment, Satara seemed to lower her guard if only to get an equally open answer from him. “Her reasons.”

“I'm still looking into it but it could be there's something bigger going on here.” He hesitated. The scent of their unease had already thickened the air. “Your kidnapping might have been part of a bigger plan.”

“So … she might be hunting down someone else? Not me?” Relief lightened the shade of dread on her face but another emotion swirled in its midst and deepened its colour.

“It's possible. But that's only a guess. I won't know anything until I –” He cut himself off. “– until we get back to our homeland.”

“Until you speak to her?” she murmured and the doors behind her gaze closed once again. “Is that why you want to go back? Because you know she'll go back there eventually?”

That's not the real question you want to ask, is it?

“Tara,” murmured Jason softly as if he only wanted to remind her of his presence.

“It's the best place to heal and, if it comes to it, the best place to face her again.” Her frown deepened and he continued. “Saytarnia knows our country like the back of her blade but so do I. And most of the people there know me too.”

“Ah!” Jason clapped a hand over his mouth as Satara winced and held a hand to her ear. Her unimpressed eyes met his widened ones. “You've got allies back there, haven't you? You're leading Saytarnia into a trap!”

“I'm not going to answer that.” Sinastar smiled. If only it were that simple.

“I'm right, aren't I? Hah!” His teeth showed between his fingers as he turned back to Satara. “Gotta admit that's pretty smart, huh?”

“What is? You or the plan?” Tension dripped off her posture, one tiny drop at a time, but it was better than nothing.

“Both.” Jason tapped his knuckles against her upper arm with a smug smile. “Admit it.”

“Yeah, right,” she muttered, casting a long, calculating look at Sinastar before she returned to where she had been sitting. “You're really going to set a trap for someone who used to be your friend?”

“Do you think that's wrong?” The note crumpled for the umpteenth time in his fist.

“Maybe.” She looked away, a shrug in her tone. “It doesn't mean you shouldn't do it though.”

“Really?” He had been too worried about bombarding her with questions, though there had been so many of them that at times he thought he would burst.

“The right thing to do isn't always the best thing to do. Not for everyone.” She sat down and crossed her legs beneath her. “There's no perfect answer or choice. Only what's more convenient for most people. Or for people who're more relevant to the situation.”

“Damn, dudette,” breathed Jason, settling down close to her. “Keep talking like that and we're gonna have to build a statue of you somewhere.”

“Stop that.” She bumped the back of her fist against his upper arm but a genuine smile lingered behind her stare as she looked away from him.

For a moment, her hair was longer, her eyes darker, and the grinning youth at her side had black hair instead of red. Sinastar blinked away the memory he had never seen and rubbed the curve of his neck as she hadn't removed her nails from his flesh. Did you ever smile like that when I wasn't looking, Saytar?

“You might be right,” he said and Satara turned to him quickly as if his voice was a hand reaching for her throat. “But let's not worry about something so far ahead.”

He gestured at their hands and swallowed hard as the space between each pair came to life almost immediately. Deceptively gentle White Air. Menacing Black Fire outlined by warning White Lightning.

“Shall we?” he suggested when he could speak again without choking up.

<><><><><>

Satara started to struggle by the time the sun reached its zenith.

Not with summoning her zai. She had grown accustomed to that part disturbingly fast after the first few tries. Now she seemed to have trouble controlling it once it was free from the restriction of her skin. As he watched, she attempted to hold up a zai-barrier in front of her once again as he carefully tossed handfuls Blue Fire at it.

As it had the last few times, her zai responded violently to the approach of his. It spread out to all sides and blocked her from his sight, then rolled towards him like a tidal wave of flame until he suppressed it with several sharp hand movements and calculated strikes of energy.

What are you remembering, Satara, to make it act like that? He couldn't ask her out loud. Not in front of Jason.

“Should we take a break?” he offered instead as the Black Fire receded.

“Do you need one?” she asked, wiping her arm across her forehead and grimacing.

Her posture had been a lot better after he warmed her inner muscles with zai, her movements a little easier. The stiffness that weakened her and made her vulnerable had almost gone. But, as he suspected from the start, the damage reached way deeper than her muscles. Wounds, both old and new, had been exposed to the air and if left untreated they would become infected very soon.

“If you don't mind?” He nodded and flexed his fingers. “Unlike zai-shields, zai attacks aren't reabsorbed by the body. It drains your strength after a while.”

Satara's brows lifted in surprise and then understanding. She pulled the energy back into herself and sat down opposite him, her body angled away from his.

“Isn't it risky then?” She glanced at him and pressed her hands to her folded legs. “Training us, I mean. If someone – if something happens, you won't be able to fight at full strength.”

“It's okay. I haven't been at full strength since I got here.”

“How come?” asked Jason, handing him a bottle of water.

“I've had to use a lot of zai to stay under cover and travel light. And I'm –” He berated the words that tried to leave his mouth without permission. “– It's probably better that way.”

“What do you mean?” asked Satara at once. She accepted another bottle from Jason who he sat down beside her.

Should I tell her? When she might not need to know about it just yet? I shouldn't get her worried about nothing. Especially when she's already like this.

“Zai is energy, both physical and mental, and when it's not used, it accumulates.” He paused to drink. “Many believe it's why other countries have so many illnesses and psychological disorders.”

“I suppose we should be grateful our country only creates clan-killing time bombs.” She smiled bitterly.

Time bombs. The irony clung to the back of his throat. He breathed in through his nose and tried not to choke.

“No one and nowhere is perfect but I think our country got close to it.” The sky was clouded and not the brilliant blue hue he was used to. “The weather can be extreme but it changes with the seasons. We get the chance to prepare before it hits and in between those times everything is calm. The sun isn't too much. The air smells like salt and keeps us cool. All the colours seem more real. If you close your eyes and listen hard enough, it sometimes feels like you can hear the whole island –”

He stopped and both Satara and Jason averted their eyes from him at almost exactly the same time. He laughed under his breath and fiddled with the cap of his water bottle. “You'll see for yourself, when we get there.”

“How're we going to get there?” muttered Satara. He wondered if she realised she was rubbing her chest, directly over heart. “I don't have my passport.”

“Dude, I'll swim there if I have to,” said Jason, breathless and wistful. “Your country sounds like heaven.”

“It is,” he agreed with a dark smile. “When it isn't trying to be hell on earth.”

“If it's such a secret place, does that mean it doesn't have an airport or anything?” Satara massaged the frown off her moist forehead. “How did you even get here?”

“It's a little complicated. I used a lot of zai and I had – help.” Their invisible animal ears perked up as expected and he tried not to talk himself into a corner. “I passed through many countries and met a lot of people on my way here. Some of them were nice.”

“Did you … walk here?” Jason's eyes widened and briefly flitted down to Sinastar's folded legs as if he were afraid of the answer.

“Mostly. But I didn't travel entirely on foot,” he added as Satara looked away and her shoulders scrunched up around her ears. He put the bottle aside and pushed himself up to his feet, catching their attention with a light clap of his hands. “Let's carry on. Jason, you're up next.”

Satara looked at him and a protest brewed behind her stare. But then she opened the water bottle her friend gave her and drank instead of speaking. She didn't watch Jason as the sixteen year old almost bounced up to stand where she had earlier and formed a pure white barrier in front of him which hissed softly. Her eyes remained open but Sinastar had a feeling the things she could see were different from her actual surroundings. And her expression gave him no clue as to whether that was a good thing or not.

<><><><><>

Though he hadn't mentioned it that morning, at some point Sinastar taught them how to throw zai like he had during the earlier half of afternoon. He switched places with them and blocked their attacks with a single zai-shield attached to his arm and shaped like a scutum.

How is he holding it up for so long? Satara closed her eyes and felt like she was falling backwards. Somewhere in front of her Jason grunted as he threw white blobs of Air at their teacher and guide. I only did it for ten minutes and I feel like I'm going to die. Her joints ached and her face remained flushed even after she started to cool down from their long workout.

Is this how he keeps in shape? By using zai like this? She rubbed her forehead and her fingers quivered against her skin. They had eaten earlier, and again a little while ago, but the base of her stomach yawned as thought it was as exhausted as she was. All the food in the country didn't seem like it would be enough to satisfy her but, at the same time, the smell from the bag of their pot noodle waste made her nauseous. No wonder he's been looking so pale all day.

“We'll stop here,” said Sinastar as his zai-shield faded away. “You'll need your strength to travel tomorrow.”

Jason nodded with a grateful semi-smile and crowed as he stumbled over to her. “Mine're bigger than yours.”

“I'm going to assume you're talking about your zai,” said Satara, clearing her throat as Sinastar looked at her as if he'd heard her wrong. “That's only because you can't see mine properly.”

Jason giggled uncomfortably but Sinastar tipped his head back. The light from the full moon illuminated a flicker of unease across his face. His eyes widened and she followed his gaze sharply. Anything that scares him can't be good news for us either. But the deepening blackness, murky with grey clouds, was unoccupied. He lowered his head at once as if her attention had been noticed.

“We'll be stopping off somewhere before we head back home,” he said, looking directly at her. “How're you feeling?”

“Tired but –” My blood feels like it's cooking in Mrs Lang's soup pot. I don't want to move but I also want to run for as long as I can or beat someone until they can't breathe. “– I'm sure Jayce is too.”

“Oi,” protested the aforementioned teenager. Annoyingly, he only looked slightly pink-cheeked, as if they had just finished warming up before a sparring session. “I'm fine.”

“Where're we going first?” Satara averted her gaze before her urge to hurt something drifted in a dangerous direction. She tried and failed to decipher the careful arrangement of Sinastar's expression.

“I need to see someone.” He stared at her moved a little closer to them, then turned away. “They might be able to … treat you.”

Treat me? Is he taking me to a doctor? Isn't that too risky right now? He spoke again before she could voice any of her questions aloud.

“You should both go to sleep. It's getting late.”

She pushed herself up and swayed, momentarily light-headed, and jumped as two different hands landed on each shoulder.

“Whoa, Tara,” said Jason.

His fingertips dug into the back of her shoulder joint and his eyes shifted from hers to Sinastar's palm, pressed against the front of her shoulder like a lukewarm water bottle.

“Sleep well, both of you.” The eldest of the three withdrew his hand at once but didn't avoid their gaze as he headed for the entrance of the clearing. “I'm going to check the area. Please don't wait up.”

Another patrol. She waited for him to vanish before tapping Jason's hand. He released his grip just as fast as Sinastar had and held both hands up.

“You okay?” he murmured.

“Yeah.” She tried to shrug but her muscles suddenly felt as sore as her joints. “Where do you think he's taking us tomorrow?”

“Probably to see one of those people who helped him on his way here.” Jason sniffed his right armpit. “I hope they have a shower.”

“He said they could treat me. That must mean they know something about us too.”

“I dunno.” He looked at the vacant space between the trees. “He doesn't seem like the kinda guy who'd go around telling just anybody stuff like that.”

My point exactly. Who is this person?

“What kind of guy does he seem like?”

Jason glanced at her shoulder, the one furthest from him, and then at their shared tent. “A guy with secrets. Lots of 'em.”

“Agreed,” she said and moved towards her tent. “We'd best go to bed in case one of his secrets decides to come for us like that demon thing. 'Night, Jayce.”

“... 'Night, Tara.”

She almost looked back at him to understand the pause that preceded his response but didn't have the energy to extend the conversation. She fell asleep almost as soon as she finished half zipping up her sleeping bag and her eyelids clashed like metal gates.

Trapping her in a dream world she thought she'd never escape.

<><><><><>

The branch beneath her didn't bend when she fidgeted and only roughed up her palms a little. The emptiness hovered behind her like an untrustworthy friend she wanted to ignore. The village spread out before her, a jigsaw of houses built in some kind of order barely visible in the gloom left by the newly set sun. One by one, lanterns lit up the darkness like loving eyes in the cold. The only other source of warmth came from the person sitting next to her.

“Does it bother you?” she asked them. A questioning silence met her words. “Being alone?”

Why did I ask that?

“No,” they murmured, their voice like a mountain in a storm.

“So it's not just me then?” She breathed out softly. “I'm not the only one who's weird.”

“Would it trouble you if you were?” they asked.

“I don't think so. Although, if that was true, I guess I wouldn't be here asking you.” She smiled dryly, mirthlessly, at the obvious psychology.

Something troubled her though. Like a hand tapping the back of her head repeatedly or someone speaking too close to her ear. It irritated her. The presence beside her calmed her down just as much.

“You're here because of me.”

“What do you mean by that?” Satara tried to look at them but for some reason her gaze drifted upwards instead and followed the pattern of the stars as they danced above her homeland.

“You need help but not the affection that accompanies it. You need answers and nothing more.” Satara expected the other person to sound smug but they didn't. “I can give you what you're looking for.”

“How?”

“Your blood is alight. I know how to douse it,” they said. “You can't trust someone you want to trust. I'll show you why you can.”

What is she talking about –? She turned her head as if she had been given permission to move. Her eyes connected with Saytarnia's and her thoughts froze. Her heart missed a step on its stairs as she realised they were blue instead of the deep brown she remembered and she was staring straight at her sister instead of looking up at her. This … this isn't a memory!

Saytarnia reached out without warning and pressed a palm to the scar she had left years ago and damaged again after their latest fight. Satara didn't have time to flinch as the branches above them, the village below, and all the space between the two vanished and –

– suddenly she was running through the village and the dusty path softened the thud of her feet.

Now only a few of the lanterns glowed, just enough to aid her journey home. She hoped her mother and father had stayed awake to let her in but also wished they hadn't. She hadn't meant to stay out so late and it was too dark convince them with believable excuses. She would get in trouble for keeping them up and not being home either way.

Home? I don't live here. She didn't know the way but her body weaved through the streets with ease. The huge houses had been smeared with odd black streaks and her shadow was short and unfamiliar every time she passed beneath the sparse spots of light. Who's that?

“Where is everyone?” she murmured. The voice she heard wasn't her own but younger and boyish.

Who am I? The image of her father – Not my father – popped into her mind and she remembered her parents – Not my parents – talking about attending the Lightling meeting that evening. She changed direction at once and headed for a large building that towered over the houses around it.

She skidded around a corner and the first spike of alarm that pierced her chest after she saw her shadow had nothing on the second. It accompanied the sight of a body sprawled on the ground, arms outstretched as if the person had tried to crawl home or away from whatever had attacked him. Away from the place she had been heading towards.

“What – What is this?” she stammered and reached for the person. She froze before moving closer to him and decided she didn't want to know if he was still alive.

She began to run again and almost stopped just as fast as she passed the body. Half of it was missing. She pressed a hand to her mouth and tried to control her breathing as she ran, looking away from a disturbingly familiar lump several steps away from the body behind her. It was half the size it should have been. More bodies littered the streets, torn apart, blackened as if a huge fire had swept over them. The scent of scorched flesh made her gag. She couldn't stop moving. It would all be over if she did.

What the hell's going on? It wasn't like this! It's similar but –

– but the carnage was far worse than she remembered. Dismembered people, most she knew, lay everywhere she looked. Most of them were women and children who hadn't attended the evening meeting. She gasped explosively as she reached the front doors of the Lightling's Hall and the scent of burnt wood overpowered the smell of blood.

I have to go in. I have to – But she couldn't move. Could barely lift her hand towards the iron, dragon-shaped door handles. Her thoughts started to meld with the second voice in her head. The one that was younger than hers, a little deeper, and a lot more terrified. I can't do this. I can't do this again.

The silence hanging over the village broke under the hammer fall of a giant explosion. It shook the building, the entire island, and threw her backwards. Dark Red Fire and Black Ice burst out from the centre of hall. The two types of zai clung to each other and filled the space between the falling rubble with a thick cloud of steam. She pushed herself up onto her grazed elbows as splintered sections of the roof caved in around the collision of pure energy.

Dark Red Fire. That's uncle's – Before she could understand the thoughts that weren't her own, several flashes of Blue Lightning caught her eye through the steam. She was ready to run away but the person she now inhabited had the opposite reaction to her sister's apparent presence.

“Saytar …” she – they – mumbled as the Red Fire faded and the Black Ice sank back into the ruined building.

She waited for the worst of the dropping debris to subside, then got up and ran through the doors now shattered by the eruption of zai. The blackened remains of more bodies dotted the corridors of the Lightling's Hall, though fewer than there had been outside. She followed them like a trail to the person who had done this them. The fried blood on the tapestries and shattered ornate pots of incense encouraged her to turn back.

She fought the urge to give in, her heart at war with her survival instincts, and she almost decided to seek help from one of the other clans. This was all far too big for her to handle alone. But Blue Lightning flitted across her thoughts and she pushed herself on until she reached a second set of doors. They led to the biggest meeting hall but had been blown wide open, hanging on their hinges like bodies from a pair of hangman nooses. She ran through them before she could think twice about it –

– and skidded to a halt.

The floor was uncomfortably hot beneath under her feet but even the pain couldn't make her move. Her heart beat mixed with the continuous pulse of energy that radiated from the person in the middle of the room as they rose from a crouch. Their body was unnaturally large, shaped by extremely defined muscles illuminated by the flames at the furthest end of the hall. Their long dark hair obscured the rest of their silhouette and flowed into the tattered clothes stretched around their body. The sight, coupled with the smell of death and fire, was too much. She pressed an arm to her nose and staggered back.

“Who – who are you?” she – he – yelled. Half of the bodies around her were clad in a charred, bloodstained white but she only had eyes for those that weren't. The black and red dress her mother wore that morning was nowhere to be found. She couldn't remember the last time she saw Saytarnia nor what she had been wearing at the time. But one of the people crumpled beyond the stranger had spiky hair that resembled her father's. “Where's my –?”

“Silence,” hissed a familiar voice she almost didn't recognise beneath the unfiltered aggression and she stopped breathing for a moment.

Smoke escaped through the holes in the ceiling and crept into her lungs. She choked out her sister's name.

“S – Saytarnia?” Her eyes stung and her legs trembled. A low ringing joined the crackle of the flames and the hum of zai all around her, in her head, like a hand forcing her to her knees.

Not again …

“Saytar – What happened? Who – who did this?” The person she was now denied the evidence around her and searched for the relief they expected from Saytarnia's presence in the midst of such a monstrous crisis.

She held a hand out to her sister as the older child turned. Moonlight landed on one half of her body and outlined it with a sharp white even as the glow of the flames painted her other side orange. Shadows cast by the angle and disarray of her hair concealed her face but her eyes pierced the blackness. The livid blue captured her attention and refused to free her.

“Leave,” growled Saytarnia and she wanted to obey without question.

The danger that surrounded her sister seared her as much as the flames but she stepped forward as if she were numb to it.

“No. It wasn't you. Saytar, you didn't –” A kunai-shaped blade of Black Ice flew past and sliced the skin close to her jugular vein.

“I did.” Her voice turned Satara's – not Satara's – legs to ice. Her next words smashed the ice and robbed her of her balance until she ended up on all fours. “And I'd do it again.”

“Why?” Doubt seeped through the cracks in her question like the warmth trickling between her fingers as she pressed them to her neck. “Why did you do that? My parents – The Lightlings – Everyone's –”

“This is why.” Saytarnia approached her and they lifted their heads in unison. The hatred in her tone viciously cauterised Satara's bleeding heart. “This is why, Sinastar.”

Sinastar?! Satara didn't have time to work out why she was seeing through her cousin's eyes.

Because moonlight highlighted the unnatural length of Saytarnia's jaw and the thin layer of fur on her face, and firelight flickered across her fangs as they dripped blood down her front. Across the cruel black claws extending towards her. Satara recoiled at once and greeted the sight with a desperate cry. She looked up at the person who had been her closest friend and greatest protector.

Who was always cold and distant but still human.

Tears drenched her face and mocked her inability to move as the claws curled around her throat and grazed her neck.

The Saytarnia she knew was lost in a sea of blood and fire. In the icy cavern behind her stare.

This one wasn't human any more …

<><><><><>

Sinastar sat on the branch of a nearby tree and leaned against its trunk. He listened to the traffic as it lessened and watched the colour bleed from his skin. His irises stung as if they were being scraped off by a malicious fingernail. Normally he would have slept through it, anaesthetised to the moon's effect on his body, but that was impossible now that he had Satara. His still had a job to do. Massaging his gums through his upper lip, he took out his phone and typed two simple sentences into the text box.

Got her. On my way.

He paused before he pressed send and looked at the circle of trees as if he could see his cousin through the leaves and walls of her tent. The half frown that lingered behind her expression. The reluctance in each of her smiles. The utter exhaustion tattooed like a portrait of pain directly onto her bones. She didn't trust him. Not yet. Perhaps not ever.

He sighed and sent the message, putting his phone away again. He preferred not to make important decisions after broken sleep. In the week leading up to the reunion with his youngest cousin and the days that followed, he had barely close his eyes for an hour every night and the demon's attack had disrupted his carefully rationed zai reserves. He rubbed the side of his neck and the smooth but raised scars left by his cousin's claws tingled beneath his shirt. He really needed to sleep.

The atmosphere around the clearing shifted.

The night air woke from its slumber like a devil forcibly roused and Sinastar sat up straight, eyes narrowing as he prepared to leap from the branches. The after effects of a particularly vivid nightmare could have caused Satara's zai to stain the peace and change it from the calm to the storm in seconds.

But then a soft scream pierced the evening and transformed into a harsh, guttural howl midway. Sinastar landed on both feet and one hand, staggering as he straightened up. His heart sank, a stone in an icy pitch black ocean, as he realised his mistakes.

The situation was far worse than he though it would be.

He had underestimated the depth of his cousin's trauma.

And they shouldn't have stopped so close the motorway.