"Hey, slow down," Luke said, coming to my side. He'd followed me out of the store and had to jog a bit to catch up.

He must've been feeling better if he was running—it wasn't something he'd been able to do prior to seeing the healer.

"That place freaked me out."

"The place or the healer?"

"A bit of both," I admitted.

"What did she say to you? At the door when she gave you that pouch?"

I still held it tightly against my chest. "It was nothing." I looked over at him, and he raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, it was something. A warning. She said something about, the awakening is 'coming upon me' and that it will try and consume me."

His expression turned grim.

"What's the awakening?" I asked, not quite sure I wanted to hear the answer.

"In travelers' lore, it's considered a time when you open yourself up to the spirits, a time when the dark magics run wild in your blood. It's part of learning the Death Arts, but that's when you need to be especially careful. The spirits and the magic can take you over, can change you."

"Swell," I mumbled under my breath. I might finally learn the Death Arts only to be consumed by them

We walked the rest of the way to the corner in silence. A cab headed in our direction. Luke raised a hand and stepped off the curb and flagged it down. He opened the cab door for me, and I scrambled in.

"So what now?" I asked.

He looked out the window. "We go back to the apartment and check on Darla."

"And after that?" I demanded.

He turned and gave me a hard stare. "You go home and then come back in a few weeks when my uncle is back, and he can get you started on your training."

I looked at him in shock. "You said you could help me."

"Colina, I know what I said."

I forced the words out between clenched teeth. "You took my money. You promised to teach me." I'd been a fool to trust him.

"I should never have promised to teach you. Only the elders in the guild can do this type of teaching—men and women who have been practicing the Death Arts for years. For me to teach you, it wouldn't be safe. The travelers aren't wrong. Dealing with the Death Arts can be dangerous."

I shook my head and tried to calm the panic I felt rising within me. "I can't wait a couple of weeks."

"Why?" he demanded.

I had started to believe I had a chance to get out of this whole mess in one piece, but now I knew I had no one to turn to, no one to help me. I was totally alone in this, and at the thought, a deep despair filled me. I turned and looked out the window of the cab and I said in a quiet voice, "You said you'd teach me."

"It's just a few weeks, and then my uncle will be back," Luke answered softly.

I needed to make Luke understand that I was out of time.

* * *

We made it back to the apartment. Darla fussed over Luke, and he looked annoyed, so I tried to stay out of their way.

I was still trying to get my head around what Luke told me in the cab. If he refused to teach me, I would have no choice but to go out on my own and try to find someone else to guide me in the Death Arts. But who? Where would I go? Home was no longer an option. I could demand my money back and head out into the streets.

You could tell him the truth, the words whispered across my mind. I kept thinking about what the old woman said. If I told him the truth, then he'd understand why I was so desperate to learn. He might be convinced there was no time to wait; it had to be done now. I wanted to tell him the truth, I really did, but I didn't know if I had the courage to speak about what happened.

I felt cold all over. I hugged my arms around my body and walked over to the apartment's row of windows. It had started raining again. I stood looking out at the storm, watching sheets of water blown by high winds slam against the walls of the buildings and the street below.

Luke crossed the room with an easy stride. He was moving without pain now. He stood next to me and asked, "Are you okay?"

"Can you get me a glass of water?" I knew I was stalling. The last thing I wanted to do was relive it all.

He looked surprised at my request. "Sure."

I turned back to watch the storm. A few minutes later he was at my side again, a tall glass of water filled with ice in his hand. He reached out and offered it to me.

I took it and sat down on the windowsill. "Thanks." I looked around the room. "Where's Darla?"

"I don't think she's over last night's ordeal. I suggested she lie down for a bit."

If there was ever a time to clear the air, it was now, when we were alone. I didn't think I could get through it all with an audience. "The traveler said I should tell you everything."

He sat down next to me. "Tell me."

"You keep asking what brought me here, and I admit I've been reluctant." I swallowed hard. "But it's not because I don't want you to know. It's just because I don't know if..." My words faltered.

He reached out and clasped my hand. His fingers felt warm against my cold skin. I realized I felt a chill not just inside my body, but inside my soul. I gave his hand a squeeze. At this moment I was thankful for the human contact. I looked into his eyes, which were full of concern. He wasn't looking at me like a stranger; he was looking at me as though he really cared.

I forced myself to continue. "It's only by a quirk of fate that I'm even here. If I hadn't been in the pantry looking for something..." My voice broke off again. I looked out the window, watching a tree sway in the wind. "It's funny. I can't remember now what I was looking for."

I put down my water and leaned my forehead against the cool windowpane. "It was Sunday. Family dinner. We had them every Sunday. Everyone helps out with the cooking." I sat up and looked at him. "It's always been one of my favorite days of the week because we were all together." I leaned back, picked up the glass of water, and took a long sip. I put the glass back down and took a deep breath. I could do this. I could finally get it out. I just had to say the words.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. "My brother's name is...was...his name was James." It took a few moments for me to find my voice again. "If James hadn't been at the pantry door giving me a hard time, if he hadn't seen them..." I opened my eyes, and a sob escaped my mouth. "He didn't give me a choice, he told me to stay quiet, to stay hidden, he shoved me inside and closed the doors." My heart was pounding at the memory. Talking about it was bringing it all back. Almost like reliving the whole thing again. "My brother knew I would have left the pantry and fought by his side, but I couldn't help him because James placed a spell on the doors."

I realized tears had started rolling down my cheeks. "His last words to me were the tail end of a spell." I barely got the confession out before Luke took me in his arms. My cheek rested on his chest.

Every night since it happened, I replayed it all in my mind. It was the living nightmare that had changed my whole life—a very real, horrific moment in time I wish I could purge from my mind. I choked back a sob and forced the rest out. "The spell kept me in and kept the men who attacked us from hearing my fists pounding against the door. They couldn't hear my screams," I spoke the words against his shirt. "I watched through the door slats. James tried to fight them, but he was too late. He couldn't save our family."

A sob broke through and then another. "My people don't practice war magic. We focus on healing—keeping people alive. We learn some defenses, but nothing that would stop someone like the powerful mage who led the attackers. He blew through my father's defenses like they weren't even there. He was strong, like one of your kind." I pushed myself away from Luke and looked him in the eye. Tears streamed down my face. "He overpowered my father and he...he slit my father's throat. And then they shot my mother. The blood, there was so much blood..."

Suddenly, I was back there. I heard the screams of my family in my head. Blood poured from my father's throat and the smell of it clogged my nose and mouth. I watched the light leave my mama's eyes as the bullet tore through her head. I started to gag, and nausea rose from the pit of my stomach.

Strong arms encircled me tightly again.

"They must have known you were healers if they used guns. It would have been too great a risk to try and shoot a mage-born who wielded dark magic," Luke said. "Did you know the men?"

"I had never seen them before that day." Though their images were now forever burned into my memory.

Luke's voice turned thoughtful. "Did your father have any enemies that would go to such extremes?"

"No. My father was the strongest healer in our clan. A man who was respected and admired, but that didn't save him." I had gone over it a hundred times, trying to make sense of what happened. Why had my family been killed? I wanted to finish the story, to tell him what happened to James and about the men looking for me, but I couldn't force those words out. So instead, I sat there, embraced by his strong arms, my body relaxing against his. It was soothing listening to his heartbeat. I felt comforted and safe for the first time since the nightmare had happened.

He broke the silence. "How did you get out?"

"It took a day and a night before someone found me." I reluctantly pushed away and looked him in the face. "My family is gone, and now someone is after me."

"What do you mean 'someone is after you?"

"At the funeral, the same men, I saw them, they were there. They came to the funeral looking for me. Three men who were dressed like funeral mourners, but never even glanced at the caskets, moved through the crowd until they stood behind me. Dark glasses hid their eyes, but I recognized them anyway. I will never forget those faces." I swallowed, my memory taking me right back to that day.

"They watched me, not the speakers or the priest. I knew they would just follow me until they could get me alone. The entire clan had gathered to bury my family and the people around me were my only protection. As the crowd began to break up, I stayed with the clan leaders until we reached the cars, and then slipped away. I stayed in the cemetery and hid behind headstones while everyone drove away. I watched the men looking into cars as they passed, turning in circles to find me—it's a huge old cemetery. After the cars were gone, they climbed into a dark sedan, arguing the entire time, and drove away."

"The only reason I got away was because they didn't want to draw attention to themselves by grabbing me in front of witnesses. I didn't know what to do. It put my clan at risk to stay around. I couldn't lose anyone else, so I just ran and kept running. Away from everyone I know, away from my home." I paused, steeling myself before meeting Luke's eyes with my own. "I have no idea why they killed my family. The only thing I can do is become powerful. I'm going to learn the Death Arts and become a death dealer. Whatever price I have to pay to get to the top of the magic food chain, I'm willing to do it."

Why were the murderers so intent on coming after me? When the men found out I was still alive, did they realize I'd seen their faces? Did they fear I could one day bring them to justice for what they did?

"I knew there was something pushing you, but I never imagined..." His voice trailed off. He reached out and grabbed my hand. "I know you're upset, but revenge isn't a reason to become one of us."

"How about survival?" I demanded. I needed to convince him to help me, and if he knew just how deep my anger swelled inside me, he might not. "I'm the only witness to their crime. My father is—was—the most powerful of our clan. If he couldn't protect us, then no one in my clan can. The only way I can survive is to become one of you."

Luke stood up with a burst of energy. "You don't want this. Believe me when I tell you this isn't something you want to bring into your life. We are hated by mages and non-mages alike. People see what we can do and how we do it, and they fear us. We take the lost souls that linger in this world and bind them to our will. We use the trauma and anger that keeps them from crossing over as a weapon against our enemies. Once you become one of us, you will never be able to go out in the world without needing someone to watch your back, because the whole world will want to stick a knife in it. You don't want to sign up for that."

"You did. You became one," I said quietly.

He glared down at me. "The guild brought me up. I knew what to expect from the time I was young. There were no surprises. I went into it with my eyes wide open. You were raised in a healer clan, and you know the way the world works, you follow the family trade."

"I know I can do this," I said, my voice filled with determination.

He shook his head, his face filled with frustration. "You don't understand. You don't even know what the rituals entail. You haven't even asked about the things you'll have to do."

"I told you—I'll do whatever I have to." I meant it. Whatever it took. Whatever trials I needed to go through; I would see my family's death avenged.

The frustration had left Luke's eyes; anger had taken its place. "You think you're willing to do anything, but you aren't."

"I can. I will. I have to. Whatever trials you send my way, I'll do them."

"Even if it means you have to die?"

I looked up at him, shocked by his words.

"Yes—die. In the first part of the ritual, the initiate has to commune with the spirits." He reached down, pulled me to my feet, and grabbed me by the shoulders. "And how do you think that's accomplished? You have to die. You have to go to the other side and be brought back." With each word, he shook me a bit harder.

I didn't try to break free. Instead, I tried to comprehend what he was saying. "Brought back? I'm dead for just a short time?"

"Yes, killed and then brought back. If we do the ritual correctly. If everything goes like it should. But if something goes wrong..." His fingers dug into my skin.

I pulled away from him and rubbed my shoulder. "Someone died and didn't come back?"

"There have been times when the ritual hasn't worked, when they lost the initiate."

"Lost. You mean..." I forced the words out. "There's no other way?"

"To wield this kind of power, you have to make a sacrifice."

I said through clenched teeth, "My family was murdered. Someone killed them, and now they're after me."

"You can get protection. Go into hiding until it blows over," he pleaded.

I shook my head.

He reached out and grabbed me roughly with his hands again. "Colina, you don't want to do this."

I forced myself back out of his reach. "I don't have a choice."

"You're prepared to die?" he demanded.

"And be brought back to life. Yes."

"I don't even know if my uncle will do it."

"I told you, there isn't time to wait for your uncle."

Luke frowned. "You can't expect me—"

"Someone is coming after me. I don't have any protection against them," I whispered.

He turned away from me. "I won't do it."

I grabbed his arm and forced him to turn back toward me. "You have to. You said you would!"

He clenched his fists. "I won't do it!"

"You said you wanted me to come back, that you were going to teach me. It would have been tonight, during the witching hour."

"I was going to scare you a bit. Scare you from going down this path, give your money back, and send you on your way. I only took the money and told you I would teach you because I saw the desperation in your eyes. I was worried you'd find someone else to teach you. Honestly, I was hoping my uncle could change your mind about learning the Death Arts. I thought that once you realized all it entails—the path you'd have to take—you wouldn't go through with it. I should never have told you I would teach you."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "You were never serious about teaching me?"

"No." His hands clenched and unclenched at his side. "I won't do this."

"Then I have no choice but to find someone else," I whispered.

Without a word, he turned and stormed away from me.