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  “It’s not my fault the innuendo is so glaring. I didn’t make the maps.” She puts her hands on her hips and finally explains. “Each pair of darklings have a map directing them toward ten objects. There are enough objects for all the teams to find one of each. The first one back here with all of their objects wins. We have to work down our list and stay in order. We can’t take an object that is meant for another team even if it’s right under our nose,” Lana huffs, perturbed she cannot cheat. “We have to find the objects that our maps guide us to.”

  “Good, someone should keep you honest,” I tease. She grabs the map back from me, folds it up, and shoves it in her back pocket. She eyes me warily as if she suspects something, but does not bring it up. She presses her lips into a firm curved line.

  “Let’s go find some fucking dangly balls, shall we?”

  After multiple hours of walking and getting sprayed by a disgusting smelling powder I have had enough fun. My hair nearly caught fire, Lana’s clothes are in shreds, and I only wear one boot. The laughter died the same time Lana almost fell out of a tree.

  “We only need to find one last thing,” Lana breathes out in exasperation. She eyes the map closely, holding it up to let more of the gray haze light the page. Morning is almost upon us. “Go dig at the base of that tree, Emma.” I look at her defiantly although I know it is my turn. She recovered the black, stone-like object before this one. “It says you are the one that has to dig.” She slams her finger at the last line of text and shoves it in my face. None of the other objects specified who had to perform the task.

  “Why me?” I ask.

  “I don’t even care. Do it with your teeth if you have to. I’m so tired I just want to go back and sleep for days.” She sits down with a loud thud, then lies back, legs splayed open, and closes her eyes. I glance around us as a precaution, as I would never rest here. We are deep in the forests. I walk unevenly over to the tree Lana indicated and start digging with my fingers. The black ash coats my hands and I feel grit building beneath my nails. After a few minutes without success I stop. I sit next to my small hole and just breathe.

  “How bad did you want to win this?” I shout so she hears me. A loud snap pierces the silence. The noise comes from above my head and I immediately back away from the tree. A net containing a savage hits the ground and opens in front of me like a present of the worst kind. My bare foot almost forces a trip as I back away, reaching for my knife as I go. The savage’s vacant stare moves over to Lana.

  “Over here,” I snarl. I do not like that it looks at her. I free my knife and hold it in front of me. Fear coils in my stomach as it continues leering at her motionless form.

  The creature moves around me and starts in Lana’s direction. I quickly glance back and realize she is still on the ground, eyes closed—unmoving. Magic is at work, and it is not mine. My dark side is buried deep, but I can still sense a spell zinging through the air with malevolent intent. Lana looks to be in a peaceful slumber. Panic rises when she still does not move as the savage gets closer. This is a trick of the cruelest kind and I cannot fathom why I am to be tested in such a manner. I see the pale, sickly skin of the savage and do not think about anything else except killing. I leap through the air and attack it from behind. My skin burns where it touches wet, slimy skin. I bury my knife deep into the back. As I pull my blade out, thick congealed blood splatters my face and covers my clothing. With a low growl, the savage’s knees hit the ground, and then it falls forward, mere inches from Lana’s body.

  “Wake up, Lana!” I scream. She stirs briefly. Sinking my fingers into the flesh, I grab the savage by the head and begin sawing at the neck, cursing my dull knife as I go. Blood spurts onto Lana’s clothing when I finally free the head from the body. Glancing away from the twitching, dying limbs, I see her eyes flutter open. The spell vanishes with the savage’s death. Lana sits up wide eyed as she looks at me and then at the savage.

  “What the fuck just happened?” Lana asks, rubbing her eyes with her fists.

  I wipe a sleeve across my face and it comes away soaked with savage blood. “I just saved your fucking life,” I say, letting an ironic smile inch across my face. She laughs loudly, holding nothing back. “And I think someone hates me…or you…or both of us,” I say when I realize this is a trap set specifically for us. Lana shakes her head to clear her thoughts and I set back to digging in my original hole. I do not want the person who set this trap to win. I will get what it is that they did not think I would obtain. It is important now more than ever. I want to win just as much as Lana.

  “We’re finally even then, Freak,” Lana says when I hold the black wooden box in the air. “Lets see what someone found so important that they wanted to test your loyalty.”

  Inside the box there is a small coin used for trading with other circles. There is also a black bag with a scrap of paper with my name scrawled across it. The bag contains a necklace with two charms. One is a black stone—an onyx–and the other is a small red, heart-shaped gemstone. I have never seen anything so beautiful. It reminds me of something, and I know I have seen it before. My heart starts hammering as the confusion sets in. Unable to place the familiarity, I look at Lana’s neck and see her small black stone pendant. As comprehension dawns I remember all the female darklings wear the black onyx. I never thought anything of it before.

  “It helps keep our dark side repressed. We all have one. I’ve had mine since I was a baby,” she says as she watches me examine mine more carefully.

  It is ironic that in this moment, I feel more human than ever before. I feel no need for the black stone…still I lace the chain through my fingers as if it were easily broken. It is precious.

  “I didn’t think there were anymore left. Especially like this,” she says. I let her take it from my hands to examine it. She unclasps the golden chain and clips it around my neck.

  “I have never had anything so gorgeous before,” I tell her in a soft whisper. I twist the pendants between my fingers and think it is one of the best feelings in the world—to have something so precious you could not bear to lose it. It still reminds me of something else, but I cannot pin down exactly what. Lana shakes her head and arches a brow in confusion. She points to the tiny scrap of paper with my name printed on it.

  “Emma…that’s Finn’s handwriting.”

  And I thought the necklace was precious before.

  Chapter Fourteen

  July 17th, Midday

  The weight of the pendant at my throat keeps me awake. I pulsate with a warm, tingling sensation that stems from inside of me. The feeling has nothing to do with my magic. I cannot stop smiling. The stone is meant to dull my dark side, but I do not expect it to cause such a surge of longing for Finn. This is a gift from him. A very considerate gift from him.

  Lana looked worried as we walked back to the circle hours before. She would not tell me why and though her mood was sullen, mine still soars high in the hazy, perfect sky. I throw the thin blanket off my body and walk to my window. Sleep will not come and the need to speak with Finn is all-encompassing. I want to know what the necklace means. I want to see his lazy smile. I want the rigidity of his shoulders gone. I want the female darkling that eases this to release him to me—to where he belongs.

  I quickly peek at Lana, snoring loudly without a care in the world. I smile as emotions flood my body. I feel the emptiness filling, the void being bridged, and the fluttering of my heart connecting the mangled pieces that form Emmalina Weaver–the person, not the empty vessel for magic.

  I run to the lagoon. I relish in the feeling of the pendants bouncing off my chest in rhythm with my feet pounding ashy ground. Clothing still on, I run directly into the water, sink below the inky liquid, and open my senses. Noise is gone and I only hear my heart hammering in my chest. When I surface, I behold the sight I so desperately crave. My stomach twists and I recognize the feeling…the desire.

  It is Finn.

  His gaze fixates on my chest, staring at my newly acquire
d pendants. When Finn meets my gaze I see so many things. I am sure he has always looked at me like this, but I never had the ability to see the emotions behind it. He looks at me with approval, with desire, pride, and honesty—I almost combust with emotion. I smile. He smiles. I push forward to close the distance between us.

  “You are back. I missed you,” I say. Finn just stares at me as if he has never seen me before. He has not seen me like this, I think. His gaze traces every curve of my body until he decides to study my face. Lips parting, small breaths pushing through his lips, his grin widens. I grab my necklace and tilt my head to the side. “I got a gift. I am not sure who it is from and I had to battle a savage for it,” I admit, my tone teasing. He moves closer to me in the water as I speak.

  “That is a pretty impressive gift. Someone must really care a lot about you,” he says while rubbing the back of his head with one hand, ruffling his brown wavy hair. He purposefully averts his gaze sideways.

  “That or someone wants to kill me,” I point out. He faces me and grins.

  “How does it make you feel?” Finn takes another step in my direction and brushes the side of my face with the back of his fingertips. I do not feel anything except his touch. It is so soft like a kiss, yet so purposeful, and so full of feeling. I lean into his hand and press it against the side of my neck. He brings his other hand over and twirls my necklace in between his fingers.

  “All I feel is you, Finn,” I tell him honestly. Anticipating his words, I watch his lips, unwilling to miss their perfect movement. He drops his hands and the absence of his touch brings me back to his question.

  “Now, tell me what you feel,” he whispers.

  Something inside me clicks. “I feel things I remember feeling when I was younger,” I say, twining my nails into the chain of my necklace. Finn watches my fingers with proud affection.

  I remember my mother’s face. She is cradling me in her lap, telling me stories from the old world. Her face is happy and animated. I think she looks prettiest when she tells these stories. I want to be inside her stories. I want to dance in the phenomenon called rain. I want to chase fireflies on a hot summer night. I long for a pretty summer dress that wisps at my ankles while I walk barefoot on grass. She tells me of ice cream cones that hold sweetness so bold it stings your tongue. It all comes coursing through me at once. I see the memories flash before my eyes. Tender kisses, dancing in the kitchen, frolicking in the large open field.

  Then, I see the specific memory—the one that haunts me. It is the memory that consumes my being with longing because I have been unable to attach an emotion to it. I feel as if I am in that memory at this moment.

  “I’m going to get you Emmalina,” my mother says. I run so fast that my tiny heart is thumping rapidly. Sticky sweat surrounds my face and mats my hair at my hairline. My feet are bare and the gray haze is the lightest I ever remember it being. I look over my shoulder and laugh as I see her running after me. She has her hands stretched out toward me and her brown hair bounces as she runs. It is a dream in slow motion that I get to relive. The moment is perfect. Her smile is electric. Her voice is sweeter than any treat from the old world.

  “You can’t catch me, Mommy!” My singsong child’s voice rings back at her. I want her to catch me. I want her hands tickling me. She grabs me and lifts me under my arms, and up over her head. I can touch the sky. I am flying. She spins around in a circle but I do not look around. I look at her smiling face. It is so cheerful, it is so perfect. It holds the same emotion that I feel in this moment.

  We are complete. I am not empty.

  The emotion rips me from the inside. “I feel joy,” I tell Finn as I throw my head back laughing at the sky. The emotion tears through me more powerful than anything else, filling me with purpose. I am elated, delighted, I feel contentment and relief. Excitement courses through my veins more powerful than dark magic. It is incomparable. I splash the water at my sides and giggle because I want to, not because I think it prudent. I am so happy I remember her—thankful Finn has forced this from me in his own way. I jump toward him and he catches me under my arms.

  He lifts me above his head and I feel like I am floating on a cloud in an alternate universe. He spins in one slow circle. I gaze down at him knowing this is what my mother wants for me. I vow to make her sacrifice worth it.

  Finn laughs loudly—a hearty, meaningful laugh. We revel in this perfect moment together just Finn and I and our joyful laughter.

  I know then that his laugh is the only sound I like more than my own heartbeat.

  Chapter Fifteen

  July 17th, Night

  Everything holds new meaning with my feelings of joy. Of the three emotions to my name, joy is the strongest, and for that I am ever thankful and elated.

  With my newfound happiness comes crushing guilt. I have all these people in my life who have done so much for me and ask nothing in return, other than their desire for me to feel. My joy is mine, not theirs. They have been selfless to the selfish. I am forever in their debt for giving me the gift of a life free of my fate. Though surprise, sadness, and love are missing, I know they are there just waiting to break through. Finn says he knew I was on the cusp of happiness—he sensed it in every word I spoke, in every exchange I had with him, in every smile ‘that actually reached my eyes’. Lana is excited for my new feeling if only for the reason she is able to tell Finn, ‘I told you so.’ She has irrevocable gloating rights for the foreseeable future.

  I watch Lana twisting her black hair into a short ponytail. She, along with a few of the other lethal darklings, is going to another circle tonight—the circle that organized our scavenger hunt. Lana is angry about her ruined clothing, but not as angry as Bec who was nearly decapitated by a savage. Horrible as Bec’s situation is, it makes me happy to know I am not the only one who got brutally attacked. They exacted punishment on our entire circle. I have a feeling they knew why the circle planned so violently but of course, they refused to clue me in.

  “I wish I could stay here with you tonight. I want to hear more of your stories,” Lana says. I have been telling her every story about the old world I can pull from memory.

  “No. You need to go have words with the lower, oh-so-in-trouble circle,” I say, although I do wish she would stay. There are so many things I want to tell her. Just looking at her seems different. She makes me happy. Lana stretches her hand out, reaching for me, and claws at the air. I laugh. She snarls through gritted teeth. Her impression of a savage is spot on.

  “If by words you mean knock heads together, then yeah,” she says with a smile on her face. “I am so happy for you. I really am. I knew you could do it. I am so glad I didn’t kill you when I found you that day in the forest.” Coming from anyone else these words would be highly offensive, but not from her.

  “I am happy to be alive. I hope the other emotions come quickly,” I say, feeling remorseful for wanting more so soon. Lana swings her bow over her shoulder and puts her hands on her slight hips. I watch as she raises her eyebrows, her forehead crinkling at her mocking expression.

  “I have a feeling a lot of things will be coming quickly,” Lana quips. I throw a pillow across the room and pelt her in the head. She stumbles back, but her taunting smile stays perched on her slender face.

  “You know it is not like that,” I say, hoping her crude sexual innuendo is finished for the night. Images of Finn kissing me shirtless fog my mind at any mention of sex.

  “It wasn’t like that. I think things may be a touch different now that he knows you feel happiness. I’m not telling you to do anything.” Lana bites her lip and tilts her chin down. “Maybe you should try attacking him with your clothes off. Or maybe you shouldn’t.” Lana laughs loudly as she watches my shocked expression.

  Though I would give anything to attack Finn naked, I feel horrified imagining it, thinking he would turn me away.

  “I’m joking, Emma. Calm down. I just think the fact that you have his heart dangling around your neck means you’r
e more than friends.” She holds both hands out in front her. “Or maybe you’re not.” Lana clasps her hands together. I roll the pendants between my fingers knowing Lana is perfectly right. She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, her leather pants stretching over her knees as she does so.

  “Go ahead and go, Lana. Try not to get yourself killed,” I say. “Plus I obviously have a lot to talk to Finn about.” I pull my hair back and try to gain control of my body. The mere mention of Finn sends my system into delirious fits of…something. Flushing heat, a stomach full of butterflies and, as always, my thundering heart gives me away.

  “Talk? You have a lot to talk about? Yeah, whatever you say, Emma.” She throws the pillow back at me, though not nearly as hard as I sent it her way.

  “Wait,” I tell her as I stand from my bed. She looks at me with mock irritation. “I have to tell you something. You have done so much for me,” I say. She starts shaking her head in protest.

  “Do not do this. I will punch you in the face…seriously,” she tells me, her silvery eyes stern. I hold up one finger and press it against her thin lips.

  “Quiet,” I order. She stops shaking her head and just watches me. She wants to hear what I have to say. Her aggressive front is automatic—part of her nature. I know this about her now, as I understand so many other things about her, too.

  “Thank you, Lana. Thank you for saving me from the savages. I can never repay you for what you have given me.” I let my finger slide down when I am sure she will not interrupt me. Her eyes glisten with moisture and I decide it is a good time to hug her tightly.

  She folds herself into my arms, fitting perfectly—like an extension of myself. Like a friend. Like a sister.

  “You give me happiness. Thank you for saving me from myself.” She hugs me even tighter and I know she feels the same. I delight in our full friendship that will now be two-sided. The reckless girl with emotions so deep she has to hide them was my friend when I was empty. “I do not deserve you, Lana.” I run my hand over the top of her head. Quickly, she breaks our embrace. Her face is tear stained and she sniffles loudly.