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"Good morning, sunshine! Breakfast's ready."

"Brea--" I cut myself off as the girl who said that is already walking down the hall, her hips swaying in the rhythm with her hoop earrings. Laverna, that's her name. The girl who was so thrilled to see me alive in the graveyard.

In the kitchen, Laverna welcomes me with the smell of fresh coffee that a few minutes later turns out to be as tasty as puddle mud. Yet, she's confident of her breakfast, her smile says so. And only a confident person can wear such a short skirt under a scarlet coat. That was her coat I borrowed for a walk to the cathedral, I realize.

"Or should I have said good midday?" she continues as if trying to occupy me with conversation. "Whatevs. I was up all night, trying to talk some sense into this asshat Nilam, so who cares, right?" She's slender, almost skinny, but bright colors look nice against her olive skin and long and wavy brown hair.

Mir hasn't spoken to me since, not a single word, not until the three of us are out of the apartment. The sun is high now, and the buildings around don't look so depressingly colorless, their ornamental lines and mullioned windows are joyful to see. People and car traffic bustle around the corner, everything's alive.

"I take it you agree to help us, Yaroslava?" Adélard asks, his elbows leaning against his car. It's a shiny black and expensive vehicle, but several small dents on the bumper don't escape my notice under the sun. The same car we drove from the graveyard. Had they had an accident on their way there? "If you're still...you."

I stop by the door to the back seat swung half-open, searching Adélard's face, his brown eyes squinting at the sun. As if I have a choice. But his expression suggests no mockery, it's a genuine question.

"Yes," I say. "But...I have two conditions." I don't even look over my shoulder to hear Laverna stop and Mir fume. It's as if the very air behind me becomes thicker. "Once we're done, I get to spend my year as I please. Not in your apartment, not with you guys, not being followed or watched."

They don't have to agree, for I don't plan on accepting to have just a year. But I want to see their reaction. Will they argue? And if so, they can accidentally tell me something, their own plans.

But they don't argue. Laverna glances at Mir, Mir glances at Ady, and before Mir has a chance to utter a word, Ady nods, his sunglasses lurch from his brows down to the bridge of his nose. "Deal."

"But you don't get to have your bones," says Mir from behind. "And another request?"

I hesitate. "And if--when we find your magical hunter, I'll be the one to end them."

This time nobody looks at each other. Silence shoots between the four of us, the unpleasant kind. Unknown. Before, when I had my powers, I did not need to guess people's emotions and, therefore, their notions. They were plain to me, like weather once you glance at the sky. Blood talked to me. Human pulse is a blatant traitor: it shivers gradually up in agitation, staggers with adrenaline in terror, drags sluggishly in serenity. And flies and misses beats in happiness. The last one was my favorite state--one's heart is quiet and warmed and eager to trust. So easy to convince, so easy to manipulate.

And now I am blind to those hearts, I need to play the way ordinary people do--search the faces and hope not to misread. What else did I lose without knowing I'd yearn for it?

I glance at Mir. He looks away a moment before I can meet his deep-set eyes. Is he worried I'll spoil this girl's body by using her hands to kill? Or does he want to do it himself?

But a second later, Mir's expression's impassive once again. He shrugs, "If you actually manage to find the hunter." But he doesn't say yes.

And when I think we're done and want to slip into the car, Mir stops me, thrusting his palm against the door, shutting it. "No, Fire Girl sits at the front."

I swear I'll slap his face if he keeps making choices for me. "Statistically speaking, the risk of having a fatal injury in a car crash is higher at the front seat."

"How convenient, you're already dead."

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Adélard drives out of old quarters, over a bridge, and past the blocks of new skyscrapers, to the Northern Park at the edge of the city. This is the park where the silver girl from the pictures was found, where I am supposed to prove myself useful.

Now the four of us are walking along one of the green alleys because apparently even expensive cars aren't allowed to drive across lawns. Adélard and Mir are two paces behind me, they're silent, but I feel their eyes on my back.

"Are you always that quiet?" Laverna asks, strolling beside me. She didn't try to talk to me in the car, but now her restless attempts become nauseating.

"Always."

"Oh?" A gust of wind blows her coat open, revealing her long legs. Laverna curses and wraps the coat tighter around her.

Even though it's late spring, it's still cold, and I did find some warm clothes in the closet of my bedroom too. The weather of St. Daktalion has always been capricious, like a child who knows their parents hide sweets. It can be a clouded melancholy all day, yet never rain, or maddeningly sunny one minute, and pouring rain the next. Before leaving the apartment, I changed my pajamas for a lavender turtleneck so I could hide the pendant and a pair of jeans. However, I haven't summoned the courage to look in the mirror and have no idea if I look good, normal, human in the clothes and the body that don't belong to me.

As I don't answer, Laverna brings peppermint gum out of her pocket. Her red nails toy with the wrapping.

"Don't be so reserved," she goes on, placing the gum on her tongue. "You can be honest with me."

"And why would I be honest with a person I speak to for the first time in my life, Laverna?"

"It's Lav. Because you speak to me for the first time in your life? I never knew Polina well, I don't expect anything from you, and you don't expect anything from me. We're a perfect match." She says these words in a breathless rush, and I wonder if she rehearsed her speech. If Mir or Ady or someone else told her to treat me this way to get me talking? Her voice is tender, but there's a slight detachment in her tone, a friendly distance you keep from a treacherous stranger.

Friendly.

The worst word ever. People were friendly with me, when they were scared of my magic, but didn't understand it was magic that made them feel jumpy. When they wanted to flee, but politeness requested them to finish our dialogue first.

Or maybe Lav just wants to make a good impression, like people usually do, maybe she's simply nervous. Why can't I just trust that people can have honest intentions?

Not many favor park strolls on such a cold day, and the further we walk, the fewer people we see. A couple of children with their grandmother walk past us and disappear behind the bushes, and the only other person is a bored white-haired lady reading newspaper behind her food stall.

"Do you like waffles?" Lav asks. "They're good here, not those fat and sugary, but thin and crispy, they roll them into cones and fill with chocolate or jam or caramel."

Even though mud-flavored coffee wasn't enough, and my stomach rumbles at the mere image of food, I say, "No."

Lav spins around to face the boys anyway and convinces them to make a short stop.

Ady shakes his head. "I hate waffles, Lav. Let's find something else later," he says. "And aren't you watching your figure or something?"

"If that's a compliment, well then, bite me," she gives him a charming smile. "If not, worry about your girlfriend's diet, not mine. Besides"--her eyes flick to Mir--"you love waffles, right?" But Mir stays indifferent to her fluttering lashes. "Buy me one with salted chocolate topping, will you?"

Mir thinks for a moment, then glances at me. "And you?"

"Nothing. I hate waffles, too." Eating cold leftovers from the fridge is one thing, and letting someone actually pay for your food is totally different. It makes you feel obliged, in debt, bought. I don't want to have a reason to say thank you to people I'm planning on tricking into giving me my bones and taking off with their friend's body.

As the boys leave for the food stall, Lav settles herself on a fallen log, a few feet away from the alley. The log faces an old playground, too rusty and broken now for children to play. A sorrowful sight. I remember people said this park used to be an estate of some merchant who hated children. He drowned in a pond, and then his mansion was turned into a kindergarten. What a cruel joke.

Yet nature here is beautiful, careless for jokes. Once I get my life back, I'll go somewhere where there's nothing but nature. The world is so good without people, so trustworthy. I heard there was a lake to the west of St. Daktalion, maybe I could live there. Find a house and watch the sun rise from the waters every morning.

If I can't escape to Heaven and Hell, maybe I can create my own sanctuary.

Lav spares a glance at me, blowing bubbles with her gum. Then another.

"How did you end up here?" I ask as I catch her looking at me for the third time.

Lav's brows shoot up.

"How did you learn about magic, I mean? For most people, it's just an old story."

"Hm...Well, my gramma was a fortuneteller, and she could talk to the dead. At least that's what I was told. But," she hesitates. "that's not what you're asking, are you? Me and my friend, we got into a situation once. Very bad, very illegal. And Mir was the one to help us out." She shrugs. "I just want to return the favor."

"And Polina?" Please, tell me she's a terrible person deserving to lose her life.

Lav sniggers, kicking at the grass underfoot. "Definitely not a lawbreaker. We grew up in the same orphanage but never liked each other. She never missed church on Sundays, never spoke a foul word. Oh, and she was Mir's girlfriend, for a while."

Air catches in my lungs. I must have gone too rigid in surprise because Lav stops chewing to stare at me. A girlfriend. As if someone he loved? That was the reason Mir avoided touching me last night, even briefly? Does he see Polina in me now? Does he not? How should I behave around him then?

"Don't worry, they broke up," Lav adds hurriedly. "More than that, they stayed friends, you know? If you ask me, real love doesn't do staying friends. So..." Her gaze darts to Mir and Ady behind the trees, and something sly flashes in her hazel eyes. "Don't tell him I told you, okay?"

"Sure."

Laughter rushes past us, following the wind. Ady says something, smiling, and Mir's face breaks into a grin. The next moment they both chuckle, a clear, heartfelt sound. But then, as if feeling us watching, Mir turns his head, and his eyes meet mine for the first time today.

And there's nothing heartfelt in his stare anymore.

No, he doesn't see a girl he once loved. He sees a witch who used magic to murder innocent people. He despises me.

"And what about Vlad, Lav?" I ask, willing myself to look away.

"Vlad?" she twists a lock of her hair around her long finger as she ponders on the thought. Then she shakes her head, her earrings rocking. "Sorry, I know no Vlads. Why? A friend of yours?"

What is the point of hiding? "Yes. Mir mentioned him earlier, but didn't say how they knew each other."

"Well, if we're talking about Mir's friends, then he has one rather mysterious."

A spark of hope tinged inside me. "How does this friend look?"

Lav licks her lips, meditative. Then she leans closer to me. "I only glimpsed him twice, a long time ago," she says. "Mir really keeps this guy away from everyone. A handsome boy though, a stride like he owns all the time in the world, a mischievous smile and...there's something sad about him, you know? Like he's seen a lot, and it burdens him."

"Are his eyes notably dark, profound?"

"Why of course, I just said he's handsome. And--" She pauses, then leans even closer to me, her perfume, strong and sweet, hits my nose. "I'm pretty sure he has magic, Yara. Like yours was. When he looks at you, you can't resist him, but once he forgets about you, once he averts his eyes...It makes you feel itchy inside, wanting to flee."

My jaw tightens at the thought. It's him. It's exactly what the magic of sigil does, how it messes with minds. People sense something's wrong, sense danger, but they don't perceive where it comes from. It's an instinct, a prey to a predator.

"Can I ask you something?" Lav lowers her voice as if the trees might listen.

I nod, curious at a sudden shift to seriousness in her tone.

"Did you really die? To become a vedma? They say your heart has to stop. Just for a moment, miss one heartbeat. Is it true?"

"Yes." I feel cold again, the sun has hidden behind the clouds.

"And you could convince people to do whatever you wanted?"

"Yes."

An impish light shimmers in Lav's eyes. "I wish I could experience that."

She shifts back, leaving my personal space, and doesn't say anything else. Neither do I. I watch the old lady roll a freshly baked waffle, hand it to Ady, and start baking another one. I don't tell Laverna that magic is an evil price to pay for someone's affection. It's fake, and you'll know it. People around will know it, even though won't understand why. It's not love born from praise, it's love born from fear.

A lie.

Another gum bubble pops over my shoulder, and then everything goes still. The mossy log doesn't vibrate, Lav doesn't fidget anymore. Then comes a weird sound, clipped coughing.

Confused, I crane my neck to see Lav scratching at her throat. Her face's ashen, her eyes bewildered. She's desperately trying to suck in some air, to speak, but the gum's stuck in her larynx.

She meets my eyes, her gaze pleading.

Time slows down as ideas creep into my mind.

Your choice, your lie...

She can die.

I can let Lav die. Easy. A stupid gum, a stupid accident, a stupid death. And one less person to deal with on my way to freedom.

"He--" she struggles with every syllable, shuddering. "Help--"

I stare at her, doing nothing.

Time slows further.

My thoughts run faster.

She's no one. A girl in a shamelessly short skirt, an obstacle on my way to escaping haunted darkness. To erasing all my past.

I clutch my hands into fists.

A few moments, and she'll never tell anyone who Polina now really is.

Nobody will blame me.

Nobody will catch me.

More than that, I can preserve the energy of her perished young body in my pendant, and it will forge enough magic to destroy my bones.

Just one more death to my list. And I'm free. Easy.

My eyes move to the food stall, but Ady and Mir don't look at us. Why don't they look? Why don't they come and save Lav?

Why does the universe give me a choice again?

"Ya--ra--" Lav's eyes shine with tears, her imploring hands grasp the edge of my turtleneck. "Help--"

I'm curious if whatever you've done, you've done with pleasure...

No.

Pressing my palm over my pendant, I put another hand on Laverna's shaking shoulder. A twitch of heat rushes through my veins, the last sparkle of magic I possess transfers to the person in need.

Lav's neck muscles jerk, she gasps and spits the gum out to the ground. Inhales deeply.

"Oh God oh God oh God," she mumbles, breathing heavily. "Oh my God..."

No God here, I'm afraid.

Swiping the tears, Lav lifts her eyes to me. She blinks, glances at the gum on the ground, then back at me. A realization reflects in her eyes. She knows now that I have some recourse of magic. I saved her and doomed myself.

But she doesn't say it.

"Thank you, Yaroslava," she lets out a weak laugh as she rubs her heaving chest. "For a moment I thought you were going to watch me die."

I thought so, too. Wanted to. Was going to.

I force a smile upon my lips. "Never."

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