Dyna shook her head no. The past had not reached her sister, and she would keep it that way.
“Please?”
“Perhaps one day.”
Lyra mumbled a complaint. She nestled closer and soon drifted off to sleep again. Dyna rested her back against the headboard. She watched the candlelight flicker on the exposed rafters constructing the sloped ceiling, attempting to quiet her mind.
Not all of her dreams were of shadows. Sometimes she dreamed of flying with the warm wind carrying her over a gleaming sea. Invisible wings wove her through the wisps of clouds, where the endless sky waited.
The bedroom door creaked open and Grandmother Leyla peeked inside. Long gray hair cascaded down her shoulders, framing her round timeworn face and soft brown eyes full of worry.
“I heard the screams. Oh blossom, look at the state of you. You’re as pale as cream. Are you all right?”
“It’s nothing, Grandmother,” Dyna whispered. She reached out for her grandmother’s soft hand, catching the comforting trace of clove and lavender, and the strength she bore. It was a miracle her grandmother had survived that night. Dyna may not have been able to recover without her. “I’m fine.”
Grandmother Leyla gave her a sad smile. She glanced around the room at the many candles and at the disorderly desk, its smooth, beveled edges. “It’s been quite a while since you have had those dreams, but this is the fifth occurrence within a fortnight. It has stemmed from your relentless study of The Seven Gates and the dark things we have no business delving into.”
Her petite frame settled on the end of the bed. “Which dream was it this time? The Shadow pursuing you up the mountain? Or the Glass Tree?”
“No.” Dyna glanced at Thane’s bed. “The moment before.”
The creases of her grandmother’s face deepened with sorrow. “Perhaps it is time to store the wee thing away. It only serves to remind you of memories best forgotten.”
Her grandmother had lost many loved ones in her life, and Dyna wondered who she thought of now.
“If I had been taken that night, would you have forgotten me?”
“Oh, no, I would never.” Grandmother gently squeezed her hand. “I thank the God of Urn every day for Zev. No one else could have found you in the snowstorm.”
Beyond the window, the sparse forest climbed up the base of the mountains. A tree stood taller from all the rest; its knotted pewter trunk and gossamer leaves catching the morning light. The Glass Tree the villagers called it, but its proper species name was Hyalus. Its magic had shielded her from the Shadow, but the ice would have claimed her if not for her werewolf cousin. It was his keen sense of smell that tracked her down. Although Zev had recovered her body, her mind had been gone for some time.
Grief was a peculiar thing. It knocked her to the ground, pinned her under its weight, and carved a hole in her chest. It smothered her in a bitterness that fed off her cries until she had no more to give.
Dyna stared blankly out the window. “I was lost when he found me.”
“But you returned,” her grandmother said.
She had to when her emotions gave away to fear. Grief crippled her body, but fear seized her mind. It lived in the corners of her consciousness, a sardonic voice that murmured in her ear each night. It laughed at her failure to protect her family and reveled in her pain.
Fear promised the Shadow would return for her sister next.
Dyna looked down at Lyra, and a tear spilled down her cheek.
“Nothing will happen to Lyra,” Grandmother Leyla reassured her, wiping it away. “The village council is preparing for the next coming. They have not stopped attempting to replicate your father’s cloaking amulets, though the reeds he used are native to Magos. Who knows how he found them? The council hopes the leaves of the Glass Tree will be of some use. And there is talk of bringing demon hunters.”
Dyna sat up straight. “They will allow outsiders to come here?”
Their secluded village rested within the Zafiro mountain range on the southern edge of the Azure Kingdom. Centuries ago, the Mages of Old perpetually spelled North Star to remain hidden. The village paid no taxes to lords nor did they pay fealty to the Azure King. No one knew they were there, and it was for a reason.
“Well, the decision is being debated, but I believe they will see reason. North Star needs help or we will not survive the Fourth Shadow Winter next year.”
But demon hunters would be useless.
Of all the books Dyna had read on Netherworld lore, she found little on shadow demons. There were no documented weaknesses or methods to fight them. The Shadow was an intangible wraith, transient like smoke. Neither traps nor weapons would be effective against it.
Not that the village council would grant her the audience to tell them so. When her father said the Shadow would return, he was ridiculed and removed from the council. It took the deaths of children to convince them he wasn’t raving mad about the Netherworld Gate opening every decade. What hope did she have of convincing them?
It didn’t matter. This time she would not stand by helpless again.
“My dear,” Grandmother Leyla frowned at her. “I found the pack you hid in the barn. It had enough clothing and food for a week’s travel.”
Dyna stuttered in reply, unsure of how to explain herself.
“Did you plan to leave without saying a word? Did you think I would allow it?” Her grandmother’s mouth thinned in a stern line. “You will not go to Magos. I forbid it.”
Magos?
Her grandmother looked to the desk where an open tome rested. The encyclopedia listed the flora found in the Magos Empire—the territory of the mages.
“You were thinking of going in search of the Luna Reeds, weren’t you?”
Dyna lowered her gaze and nodded. She hated lying. She had planned a journey but not there.
“Please, stop reading those books. It’s time to let it be and trust the council to keep the village safe.”
“The council knows nothing,” Dyna said, echoing her father.
Her grandmother pursed her lips. “Dynalya Astron, I’ll not have you fret over this any longer, you hear?”
She dropped her head in her hands. Nine years ago, she had been too young to understand her father’s anguish and paranoia, but they now clung to her like the sweat on her skin. This curse had to end. “It won’t work. None of it will work. Even if the council replicates the Luna Reeds, it is not a permanent solution. The amulets will only cloak them under the moonlight. It does not banish the Shadow.”
“The Glass Tree—”
She shook her head in exasperation. “The light of the Hyalus leaves only appear at night. We need an absolute solution or the Shadow will continue to return.”
“I know you are worried, blossom. I am as well.” Grandmother Leyla tucked a lock of Dyna’s hair behind an ear. “There is a village council meeting at midday. You can voice your concerns there.”
“No one will listen to me.”
“Lady Samira may listen. She is the least arrogant of them. Occasionally.”
Dyna stiffened at the mention of that name and tried to ignore the sour twist in her stomach. “Why is there a meeting today?”
“Lady Samira is stepping down and is to announce her replacement.”
Dyna watched her grandmother, reading the touch of resignation on her face. “Is she unwell?”