Shadowfall

Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen

Chapter One: Shadows

Something had happened to Catalina’s shadow. 

She’d been climbing up to her treehouse and paused, studying her shadow. It had splayed out across the lawn, all stretched and wobbly, reminding Catalina of the praying mantis she’d hatched last summer. Or of a superhero dangling from a skyscraper. She’d grinned and continued climbing. Her shadow climbing along with her like an insect scaling a stalk of wheat. 

She’d been reaching for the top rung when everything went sideways. The light shifted, shadows deepening. A harsh wind rocked the tree, causing leaves to drop like rain. Her hand slipped, and for one terrifying moment she thought she’d lose her grip and fall. 

The wind picked up, slamming her against the ladder and her legs trembled as she struggled to hang on. Even as she clung for dear life, her mind worked, calculating the likelihood of survival. Of how many bones she’d shatter if she fell. A staggering pain ripped through her, as if she were a piece of paper being torn in half, and a scream tried to work its way out of her mouth. But the air had grown thick and only a strangled gasp emerged. She clutched the ladder; eyes squeezed shut as she weathered the maelstrom. 

The hurricane, or whatever it was, lasted only a few heartbeats, though it felt much longer. Then the wind stopped, and the strange feeling dispersed, melting away like ink in water. 

Catalina heaved a sigh of relief and leaned her head against the ladder, staring down at the ground. She blinked. Looked again, her head trying to make sense of what she saw. Or rather, didn’t see.

Her shadow had vanished.

At first Catalina assumed a cloud had blown in front of the sun. Big fluffy clouds had floated across the blue sky on and off all day, blotting out the light and causing Catalina to shiver in her t-shirt and shorts. But the sun was still out, bathing the earth in the buttery warmth of early summer.

She clung to the ladder, surveying the ground. The oak tree’s shadow slashed across the grass, splitting the yard in two. Her house had a shadow. As did the fence. Even the ladder’s shadow remained, long and narrow. It was only her shadow that was missing.

That’s odd, she thought, and climbed to the ground, scouring the lawn for any sign of her missing shadow. She lifted one foot, then the other. But where her shadow should stretch out, splashed across the grass, there was nothing.  

A cloud rolled in front of the sun, and every shadow in the yard disappeared. The change in light wiped away the promise of summer, turning the world pale and gray. A breeze kicked up. Strands of honey-colored hair blew into Catalina’s eyes. She brushed them away.

Was she imagining things? She didn’t think so. She didn’t have much of an imagination, unlike her sister, who’d adopted an invisible kitten when they found out that Catalina was allergic to cats. No, Catalina preferred facts, scientific analysis, and logical deduction. Her brain knew shadows didn’t vanish. And if somehow it had disappeared, there had to be a rational explanation. She just needed to figure out what it was.

Something stirred in the pit of Catalina’s stomach. Something dark and uneasy, like the feeling she always got when Mr. Bradbury called on her to read aloud in class. Only worse. Ten times worse. Rational explanations aside, she couldn’t go on without a shadow. People just didn’t do that. Even Peter Pan needed his shadow. 

She shook her head, trying to shake off the feeling. It was a mistake. A trick of the light. Right? A seed of doubt sprouted inside her mind. 

She chewed at the corner of a jagged fingernail. Somehow she needed to prove that she’d lost it. Or, rather, that she hadn’t. That her shadow was still there, right where it should be. 

Catalina frowned up at the clouds, willing them away, but they had gathered together, stretching towards the horizon in an endless blanket of gloom. Her shadow wasn’t reappearing out here anytime soon. She needed a light bright enough to cast a strong shadow. But without the sun, what could she use? She mulled it over, tugging on a lock of her hair. Of course! Last week her mom had installed an obnoxiously bright LED bulb in their bathroom in an effort to save electricity. Now every time she looked into the bathroom mirror, her reflection appeared pale and sickly. 

She dashed across the yard and through the back door. The kitchen lay empty, and she sprinted through it and down the hall leading to the rest of the house. At the bathroom door she stopped and jiggled the handle.

It was locked. 

Drat! She tapped on the door. Waited a moment. Then knocked again, louder this time.

“Occupied,” called out her sister Barbara.

“I need to use the bathroom,” Catalina said, surprised at how normal her voice sounded. She’d half-expected to sound different with no shadow. Faded, perhaps. Less.

“Almost done.” Which was a lie. Barbara always took forever in the bathroom. 

Catalina rolled her eyes and leaned against the wall to wait. She searched the wood-paneled floor for any sign of her shadow. But the light was too dim.

Her mom’s voice sounded from the living room, “It’s not a problem at all. I’m sure Catalina will be glad to see her.”

Glad to see who? She tiptoed to the end of the hall.

“Thank you so much, Linda,” said a vaguely familiar voice. “You’re a lifesaver. I should finish up around nine and can pick Sydney up after that.” 

Oh no, not Sydney! Catalina heaved a sigh. She did not have time for this; she had a shadow to locate. 

So unless Barbara popped out of the bathroom in the next few minutes she’d be stuck with Sydney for the rest of the day. She needed a new plan. Hide in the treehouse until the sun came out? Sydney would find her for sure. And how would she explain her lack of shadow? Maybe she could find a flashlight, hide beneath the blankets in her room and making shadow animals, like she and Barbara used to do when they were younger.

“Catalina is in the backyard getting some fresh air,” her mom said, her voice closing in. “I’m sure she’ll be glad to see you.”

Sydney’s mumbled response was lost beneath the tapping of her mom’s shoes. Catalina backtracked to the kitchen, looking around for a place to hide. Between the counter and the garbage can? Too visible. Under the table? She hesitated, the sound of her mom’s footsteps growing closer. Her eyes lit on the back door. She’d have to head back outside and try to slip inside later. She’d figure out what to do about Sydney when the time came. She flung the back door open and was about to step outside when her mom’s voice rang out behind her.

“Lina dear, look who’s come over for a playdate.”

Catalina froze. She turned, holding in a sigh of resignation. Sydney stood behind Catalina’s mom, her freckled face hovering between hope and the expectation of disappointment. She pushed a handful of curling flame-colored hair from her eyes. In one hand she clutched a thick book. The other waved shyly. Catalina lifted a hand in return and gave her a tight smile.

Sydney lived three doors down. She’d moved into the neighborhood last fall, and went to Westfield Middle School with Catalina. But Sydney was in sixth grade, one year behind Catalina. And while their mom’s had become good friends, Catalina and Sydney had never really hit it off. Besides the age gap, their interests were too different — Sydney obsessed over fairytales and mythical creatures, while Catalina preferred learning about wilderness survival and reading up on real-life heroes like Rachel Carson and Tiera Fletcher.

“Sydney will be here until after dinner,” her mom was saying, “so take her outside and…” She wiggled her fingers. “Play.”

“But…” Catalina said. Then stopped. A knot formed in the pit of her stomach. She needed to find her shadow. But if she told her mom she didn’t have time to hang out with Sydney, she’d demand to know why. 

Should she tell her mom about her missing shadow? Would she even believe her? And what about Sydney? She might believe a shadow could go missing, but she also might tell other kids, and the last thing Catalina wanted was everyone at Westfield Middle School to know she was imagining things. Because she was. Wasn’t she? She peered back and forth uncertainly between her mom’s impatient face, and Sydney’s hopeful one. 

Poll Results: What should Catalina do? 

Should she ask Sydney to help her find her missing shadow?  53.33%
Should she search for her shadow by herself?  40%
Should Catalina tell her mom and Sydney that her shadow is missing and ask for their help?  6.67%

Chapter Two: End Of The Rainbow

“Take Sydney outside,” her mom repeated, glancing at her watch. “I have to make a call. Come back in by four thirty to help Barbara with dinner. It’s spaghetti night,” she added, giving Sydney a kind smile. “We’ll get you settled in Lina’s room after dinner. Sydney’s staying the night.” She shot Catalina a warning glare. 

Catalina snapped her mouth shut, pursing her lips in displeasure. She didn’t mind Sydney staying over, but she wished she didn’t have to share her room.

“Thank you, Mrs. Ross,” Sydney said in a quiet voice.

Her mom nodded, giving them a distracted smile. After patting a strand of honey brown hair into place, she pulled out her phone and began tapping on it. Without a backward glance, she turned and walked down the hall towards her office.

Catalina sighed. Her mom would never believe her shadow was missing. She was on her own. Unless… She looked at Sydney, who stood staring down at the massive book clutched against her chest. Sydney might believe her. She had more of an imagination in one finger than Catalina had in her entire body. The question was, would she keep it a secret? The last thing Catalina needed was for kids at Westfield Middle to find out. Especially after last year’s science fair disaster. They’d called her Catalina the Catastrophe for months. 

No, she thought, safer to keep it to myself.

Catalina pushed the door open and headed outside, searching for some sign of her shadow. But the sun remained hidden behind a blanket of clouds, pale, shadowless light covering the land like a veil.

Sydney slipped out the door a moment later. She was a lot smaller than Catalina, even though they were practically the same age. Her heart-shaped face and the mass of red curls that tangled down her back made her look like a fairy princess from one of the books she always lugged around. A modern day fairy, dressed in tattered jeans and a lacy tank top.

“So, what do you want to do?” Catalina asked. 

“You don’t have to entertain me just because your mom wants you to,” Sydney said. She sat down on the porch step and propped open her massive book.

“Uh, okay.” Catalina stood there, unsure what to do. Sydney’s mom had dropped her off quite a few times in the last month, and she always followed Catalina around like a stray puppy. Being ignored by her felt… odd. 

After a moment, Catalina shrugged and headed for her treehouse. In all the excitement with her shadow, she’d forgotten to check on her weather station. She’d made it halfway across the yard when a choking sound reached her ears. She turned and watched as a tear ran down Sydney’s cheek.

Their eyes met and Sydney looked away, swiping at her cheek with the back of her hand.

“Are you okay?” Catalina asked.

“Yes.” Her voice sounded watery. “Fine.”

“Do you want me to get my mom?” Catalina walked back, hovering at the bottom of the porch steps.

“No.” Sydney said sharply. She fiddled with the pages of her book. “It’s just….” She wiped at her face again. “Ugh, I don’t want to talk about it.”

After a long, awkward moment of silence Catalina asked, “What are you reading?”

“Oh, uh… It’s not really a book.” 

“It looks like a book.” Catalina said, confused.

“I mean it is, but it’s an encyclopedia, not a novel. My dad gave it to me as an early birthday present.” Sydney’s voice hitched and for a moment Catalina worried she would start crying again. But she just swallowed and held the book out. 

The Encyclopedia of Faeries and Other Mythical Creatures swirled across the cover in golden lettering. Below the words was a fanciful illustration of a fairy flying above a cluster of red and white mushrooms. 

“Is it any good?” 

Sydney nodded enthusiastically. “It is. I mean, I haven’t read the entire thing, only some of it. I just finished the section on forest gnomes.”

“Those little garden statues with the beards?” Catalina asked, perplexed.

“Yes… but according to the book the statues are based on real creatures. A long time ago, this guy had a whole burrow of gnomes living in a tree stump near his house. He started carving the little statues and selling them to his neighbors.”

“Huh. Do you think that’s true?” Catalina asked. 

“I don’t know.” Sydney replied slowly. “Maybe. When I was little, I thought fairies sprinkled dew across the grass every morning. And that pots of gold waited at the end of rainbows. But, I’ve looked for the end of a rainbow and couldn’t find it. So, does that mean there’s no pot of gold? Or that I just didn’t look hard enough?”

“You know dew is water vapor that condenses onto leaves and stuff when the temperature changes?” Catalina said.

Sydney shrugged. “I guess. But just because that’s what science says, doesn’t mean it’s the only truth. Maybe all the old myths are based on something real. Like the gnomes. Or dragons. Maybe magic existed, and it faded away when people stopped believing in it. Or maybe it’s still there and we just can’t see it.” She paused and gave a small, self-conscious laugh. “Sorry. I’ve been alone too much lately.” 

“That’s okay.” Catalina reached down and plucked a piece of grass from the lawn. “I tried to find the end of a rainbow once, too.” She paused. “For fun. But, I think everything has an actual scientific explanation. We just might not have figured them all out yet. Like why we dream. Or why cats purr.”

Or why my shadow disappeared, she thought.

“So someday science might explain away fairies. And mermaids?” Sydney said, shaking her head mournfully. “That makes me kind of sad.”

They were silent together for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts. Sydney wasn’t so bad, Catalina decided. She was actually pretty interesting to talk to. She twirled the piece of grass between her fingers, wishing she trusted Sydney enough to tell her about her shadow problem. She looked up, struck by a sudden idea. “Does your book say anything about something that steals shadows? From people?” She tried to keep her voice casual.

Sydney frowned, looking thoughtful. “I don’t think so. But, like I said, I haven’t read the whole book.”

Catalina sat down on the porch step next to Sydney. She took a deep breath. But as hard as she tried, the words ‘my shadow is missing’ remained lodged in her throat.

“Do you remember where you heard about it?” Sydney asked. 

An awkward laugh burst from Catalina’s lips. “It’s—never mind, it sounds so dumb.”

“You don’t have to tell me.” Sydney ducked her head, her hair falling in front of her face. “It’s not like we’re friends.”

And just like that, the budding friendship between them withered and fell away. Catalina wanted to argue, to reassure Sydney that of course they were friends. But they weren’t. Not really. Just neighbors who hung out sometimes. But it would be nice to have Sydney as a friend. She was kind and interesting to talk to. And then Catalina realized that Sydney wouldn’t tell anyone about her missing shadow. That she was the perfect person to trust with such a strange secret.

She opened her mouth, ready to push the words out, when a stray beam of sunlight burst through the clouds, warming Catalina’s back. She looked down and gasped. Sydney’s shadow lay long and dark across the grass. 

Catalina’s did not.

“What?” Sydney asked, looking towards her.

But Catalina couldn’t answer. She sat frozen, staring at the ground, as if the sun’s touch had turned her into stone. Sydney followed her gaze. 

“Lina, where’s your shadow?” Sydney asked, her voice high and breathy.

A surge of relief flooded through Catalina. She wasn’t imagining things. Sydney saw it too. Or didn’t see it. Or whatever. She heaved a sigh. “Oh good. I thought I was going crazy.”

And as if a dam had broken, the entire story tumbled free. How she’d been climbing to her treehouse when the wind slammed into her. The pain. And the lack of shadow afterwards.

“But then the clouds rolled in, and I was sure I’d imagined it,” she finished.

Sydney’s amber eyes had grown wider with each sentence. “What are you going to do?” 

“Well, so far my plan was to make sure I hadn’t imagined it, and to tell you. Not necessarily in that order,” she added in a rush. “But after that…” She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Sydney shook her head, her eyes still as round as marbles. “I never…” A giddy laugh burst from her lips. “I never thought I’d witness real magic.” 

“It’s not magic.”

“What else could it be?”

“Some kind of disease, or a… a vitamin deficiency?” 

Sydney shook her head. “No way. It has to be magic.” An odd smile broke out over her face, excited and nervous all at once. “Which is amazing, and freaky. So, now what?”

Catalina bit at her fingernail, staring down to where her shadow wasn’t. “I guess first I need to figure out why it disappeared. Then I can worry about how to get it back.”

They both fell silent again.

“Maybe I should retrace my steps?” Catalina said.

“My book might have a chapter on shadows,” Sydney said at the same time. 

Catalina nodded. “Okay, we can also search online. There’s a computer in the family room. But we can’t let my sister know what we’re doing.” She leaned forward. “And you have to promise not to tell anyone about this.”

Sydney looked uncertain.

“Promise. Please.”

Sydney huffed a breath out of her nose. “Fine. I promise,” she held up a hand as a smile broke out across Catalina’s face. “But, if it’s something serious, we have to tell a grownup.” 

“Fine.” Catalina hoped it wouldn’t come to that. 

“And,” Sydney said, taking a deep breath, “once we figure out what happened we’ll decide if we want to go public.”

“Go public? What does that mean?”

“I mean, tell people. Tell the world. That magic is real.”

Catalina tried not to roll her eyes. “Let’s figure out what’s causing it. Then we can decide who to tell.”

“Great!” Sydney bounced up and down on the stairs, unable to contain her delight. “So what should we try first?”

Poll Results: What should they try first?

Search in Sydney’s book: 57%
Retrace Catalina’s steps: 29%
Search on the computer: 14%

Chapter Three: Shadowsisters

Catalina eyed the book in Sydney’s lap. “Is there a way to search just for shadows, or do we have to read through the whole thing?” 

“There’s an index in the back.” Sydney said, her eyes lighting up as she flipped through the pages. 

Catalina had her doubts about finding anything worthwhile in a book titled The Encyclopedia of Faeries, but Sydney seemed happy. Plus, Catalina doubted they’d find anything useful on the internet anyhow.

“Let’s see,” Sydney said, running her finger down a page at the back of the book, “It has Erebus, invisibility, Peryton, Peter Pan, and vampire.”

“Well, I’m outside in the daytime and haven’t caught fire, so I’m definitely not a vampire. Am I invisible?” She waved a hand in front of Sydney’s face.

Sydney giggled. “Nope. Definitely not invisible either. Let’s see, what’s an Erebus?” She flipped towards the front of the book, searching for the entry. “One of the primordial deities in Greek Mythology, Erebus was born from Chaos and is known as the god of darkness and shadow.”

Catalina leaned back against the porch railing. “Not helpful. What else is there?”

Sydney rifled through the book. “A Peryton is a part-bird, part-deer creature. Also not that helpful.” She pursed her lips. “The only other thing listed is Peter Pan. And that’s just a story.”

“Didn’t you say earlier that all stories are based on something real?”

Sydney laughed and made a face. “I never said all stories.”

“Whatever.” Catalina rolled her eyes, grinning.  “How’d Peter lose his shadow, anyhow? Does it say?”

“Good question!” Sydney went back to the book, absently pulling at a strand of her curly hair and wrapping it around her finger. “It says here that he climbed out a window and it shut behind him, severing his shadow. Wendy sewed it back on. Maybe your shadow got cut off somehow.” She sounded doubtful.

“That doesn’t seem possible.”

“Agreed, but it’s worth checking. There’s nothing else here about missing shadows.” Sydney closed the book and set it aside. “Where were you? In the treehouse?”

“On the ladder. There was a big gust of wind and I almost fell off.”

“Maybe the wind snatched it away? It could be crumpled up on the ground somewhere.”

Catalina looked to the ladder. “Maybe.” She shrugged. “We can look. I need to climb up and check my weather station anyhow.”

Catalina scaled the ladder, stopping halfway to look down. The tree’s shadow was there, falling across the fence into the neighbor’s yard. No sign of Catalina’s shadow clinging to the ladder. Sydney crawled around on the grass, searching the shrubs for extra shadows. She wouldn’t find anything. Catalina was sure that whatever had caused her shadow to disappear, it wasn’t the wind. With a last, wistful look at the tree’s shadow, she started climbing again, pushing herself off the ladder and onto the platform above.

The treehouse sat perched atop a broad deck. Catalina had helped her dad build it a few years back. When they were younger she and Barbara would spend the night inside, snuggled together in sleeping bags, telling each other stories until they fell asleep. But when Barbara started High School last year she no longer had time to hang out so Catalina took over the treehouse for her science experiments.

A beam of sunlight slipped between the branches, casting a rosy glow across the wood. Something dark stretched out in front of her and she leapt back, startled. A deep shadow stretched from her toes and into the treehouse doorway, becoming lost in the darkness beyond.

She stopped and stared. Lifted a leg. Her shadow followed, moving along with her as she wiggled it around.

“Oh!” Sydney’s voice called from behind her. “Your shadow. It’s back!” 

“Yeah, it just… appeared.”

“Weird,” Sydney peered at the shadow. “How come it doesn’t go the same direction as mine?”

Catalina blinked. She stepped towards Sydney.

“Wait,” Sydney said. “It disappeared again.”

Catalina looked down. Her shadow had once again vanished. She stepped forward. It reappeared, stretching from her foot into the darkness beyond.

“That’s strange,” Sydney said.

And it was. Catalina moved her foot forwards and back a few times, watching as her shadow came and went. A tugging in the pit of her stomach moved with it, like a wave, surging in time to her movements.

“I wonder what makes it do that.” Sydney stood beside Catalina, her own shadow dark and unwavering.

“I’m afraid that’s my fault,” said a lilting voice, from inside the treehouse. 

“Who’s in there?” Sydney whispered. “Barbara?”

Catalina shook her head. “Can’t be. She’s still in the house.”

They looked at one another, then at the doorway. Catalina stepped forward, peering into the room, Sydney tiptoeing behind her. 

A girl sat slumped on the floor, golden brown fingers clutching a ratty sleeping bag to her chest. Only she wasn’t a girl. At least not a human one. She looked more like a stretched version of a girl, with long fingers and even longer ears that narrowed to sharp points at their tips. Thick periwinkle hair coiled around her head in intricate braids. Her eyebrows were pale blue as well, giving her overlarge amber eyes a perpetually bemused expression. 

“Greetings Shadowsister,” the stranger said in her lilting voice, blinking cat-like eyes at Catalina.

Catalina stifled a scream. She took a slow step backward, bumping into Sydney. “I… uh… what…” Catalina stared at the girl. She couldn’t seem to think properly. “What… who are you? You’re… you’re not supposed to be here.” 

“My sentiments exactly. And yet here I am,” the girl replied. Wincing, she struggled to her feet, one hand pressed to her side. “I am Lynnoria.”

She wore strange, layered clothing in the colors of the sunrise, the thin fabric cinched around her waist with a wide golden belt. Dark fluid leaked from between her fingers. Her shadow stretched out before her, merging with Catalina’s own.

That’s not possible, a part of Catalina’s mind protested. Why are our shadows connected? She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Sharing a shadow with an elf—or whatever the girl was—was far worse than any vitamin deficiency. 

“What are you?” Sydney asked, curiosity filling her voice.

“I’m a Windweaver—a cousin to the True Fae of Starkhaven.” She raised her fingertips to her forehead in some kind of greeting.

Catalina gaped at her. Was this girl for real? Her fingers twitched, itching to tug at Lynnoria’s ears, to make certain they were real. 

“So you’re not… human?” Sydney asked, her eyes still as wide as marbles.

“No,” Lynnoria chuckled, “decidedly not.” Then she grimaced, clutching her side.

“Are you all right?” Catalina asked, as more dark fluid seeped through Lynnoria’s clothing. 

“Just a scratch. It will heal soon enough.” Lynnoria said, leaning heavily against the wall.

“Where’s Starkhaven?” Sydney asked.

“Your legends don’t speak of it?” Lynnoria sighed as both Catalina and Sydney shook their heads. “Starkhaven once existed as a series of islands here on Earth. When a great flood threatened to our lands, my ancestors summoned shadow and wind and slipped the islands free, intending to lift them to safety. But their magic faltered, and the islands fell away into pockets of shadow, separated even from each other. Now they can only be reached by Shadowpath.”

 Catalina examined Lynnoria’s eyes. They held an uncanny resemblance to a cat’s eyes. Could they be some kind of fancy contact lenses? “Is this some kind of prank?” she asked.

Lynnoria shook her head slightly. “No prank.”

“So why are you here?” asked Sydney, shooting Catalina a furious glare.

“I was traveling on the Shadowpath, heading home, when I was… injured. My grip on the path became unstable, and I slipped. I reached for my magic to stabilize me, but my in my weakened state I pulled instead on the bond between us.” She looked at Catalina with her unblinking stare. “Tapping that power saved me, but had the unexpected side effect of drawing me here. To you.”  

“Lina,” Sydney gasped. “Maybe that’s why your shadow disappeared.”

Catalina narrowed her eyes at Lynnoria, ignoring the pull of the shadow that arched between them. “How do you know I’m your Shadowsister and not… Sydney here, or… someone else?” she asked.

Lynnoria pointed to the shadow they shared. “Is it not obvious?”

“Do you think I have a Shadowsister?” Sydney asked, catching her breath.

“Unlikely,” Lynnoria replied, and Sydney deflated like a balloon. “It is quite rare. Something to do with the position of the realms during our births. We become tied together from the moment we are born. It grants great power. To both of us. Though I never expected to need it.” 

Lynnoria leaned her head back, resting it against the wall. She looked pale. Or at least less golden. Her wound continued to ooze, her pale clothing heavy with blood.

“You look like you need a doctor,” Catalina said.

Lynnoria shook her head. “I shall recover in time. However, I do have a small favor to ask.”

Here it is, thought Catalina. What does she want? Money? A phone? Yet even though she wanted to doubt the girl’s story, in her heart she knew that it was true. That here, in front of her, was a girl from another world. She quashed the flicker of excitement that danced inside her at the thought.

“I must rest so my wound can heal. However, I cannot return home injured. I have neither the strength nor the inclination.”

“So you want to stay here.” Catalina said, already knowing the answer. “For how long?”

“Till the moon has risen and fallen, and the sun once again crests the sky.”

“So, overnight?”

Lynnoria nodded. 

“And that’s all?” Catalina said, her voice edged with suspicion.

“Some food to build up my strength would be nice. Some fruit, perhaps fresh fish.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Catalina said, and backed towards the door. “Come on, Sydney.” 

Sydney opened her mouth as if to argue, then shut it and followed Catalina to the ladder.

“Don’t forget the fruit. I shall rest until the moon is bright overhead. You may return to me then.”

Helping Barbara make dinner was excruciating. Catalina spent the entire time trying not to look at Sydney while pretending a fairy wasn’t bleeding all over the treehouse floor. Finally, when the pasta was draining and they had dressed the salad, Barbara’s phone rang and she slipped into the other room to answer it.

“OMG! OMG! OMG!” Sydney said, the words gushing out as if a damn had cracked down the middle. “Can you believe it! You have an actual, for real fairy living in your treehouse. And you are her Shadowsister! I cannot believe that you have one and I don’t. I’ve studied fairies and magic my entire life and…” She continued bursting with excitement until Catalina cut in.

“Quiet. In case Barbara comes back.” Sydney clamped a hand over her mouth. “First of all, she is not living in my treehouse. Just staying for a few hours. Second of all, I’m still not convinced that it’s not a hoax.” Which was untrue, but Sydney didn’t need to know that. “As far as I’m concerned, you can have her. One sister is more than enough for me.”

Sydney giggled.

 “Let’s just forget about her for tonight. There’s nothing we can do till morning anyhow. We’ll check on her in the morning, but I bet all we find is an empty treehouse and traces of black paint.”

“Are you kidding!?” Sydney hissed. “We promised to bring her food. And when we do, we should get some photos of her. Or a video.”

“What? Why?”

“To prove that magic is real.” Sydney said, exasperation heavy in her voice. “Do you know how famous we could be? The first people with actual proof?”

Catalina shuddered. Having a missing shadow was bad enough; to be embroiled in something this would surely ruin any chance she had at winning a Nobel prize. “I forgot about the food. But… I don’t know about videotaping her. I don’t even have a phone.”

“Yeah, me neither.” Sydney frowned and took a bite of garlic bread. “But your sister does,” she said, brightening. “We can borrow it.”

“She’ll never let us.”

“What if we borrow it while she’s sleeping?”

Catalina shook her head. “Terrible idea. Let’s just wait until morning.”

Poll Results: That night, should the girls…
Bring Lynnoria food? 100%
Check in the morning? 0%
Videotape Lynnoria with Barbara’s phone? 0%

Chapter Four: The Color of Blood

The house lay silent, wreathed in shadows. A stray beam of moonlight slipped through the curtains, falling across the room to land on Catalina’s face. Her eyes were closed, but she wasn’t asleep. Wouldn’t be able to sleep if she tried, the events of the day churning through her head like a tornado.

She’d lain there for hours, listening to the sounds of the house settling into sleep: Barbara, back in the bathroom, removing the makeup she’d piled on in the morning; her dad, cleaning up in the kitchen; and the low hum of music that her mom played each evening to wind down. By the time everyone had finally gone to bed, Sydney was sound asleep, her breath coming deep and even from the bunk below.

Catalina wanted to believe it had all been a weird waking dream. That her shadow had never gone missing. That there wasn’t an injured fairy from another world asleep in her treehouse. But Catalina put her faith in facts, and the evidence all led to magic being real. And not just real, but somehow entangling her up in it. 

She sighed, rolling over and squashing her pillow into a more comfortable shape. She was glad her thoughts were keeping her awake. She obviously couldn’t trust Sydney to be the one to wake her up when it was time to sneak out to the backyard. She stared up at the ceiling, at the glow in the dark stars she’d stuck up in patterns of the actual constellations. The Big Dipper, Cassiopeia, and her favorite, Orion. 

“Lina?” Sydney whispered. “Are you awake?”

“Yeah.” 

“Is it late enough?”

“I think so.” Catalina tossed back the blanket and climbed out of bed. She debated changing into her jeans—she wore satiny pajama pants and a t-shirt—but the night was warm and they’d only be outside long enough to give Lynnoria some food and find out if there was any way to sever the connection between them. 

Maybe she could transfer it to Sydney, Catalina thought, motioning to Sydney to follow as she slipped down the hallway towards the kitchen. That would solve so many problems.

 With one last, longing glance at Barbara’s bedroom door, Sydney followed Catalina into the kitchen. It had taken a lot of persuading to convince Sydney that borrowing Barbara’s phone was not a good idea. But eventually she’d agreed that they should ask Lynnoria’s permission before making any recordings of her.

In the kitchen, Catalina flipped on the light, knowing they could claim hunger if anyone awoke. After rummaging around, she pulled out a can of tuna, a bottle of water, and come apples. She handed them to Sydney, who packed them into a small bag along with an incredulous look on her face.

“Canned tuna? Really?”

“Lynnoria wanted fish. It’s fish. Now, shhhh.” She motioned Sydney to the back door and flipped the light off, slipping outside behind her.

The gibbous moon cast the yard in a silvery glow, muting the world into a landscape of grey shadows.

Shadows, Catalina thought as she crossed the grass, who knew they’d cause so much trouble.

“Ouch,” Sydney whispered from behind her. “What the heck did I step on? An arrow?”

Catalina winced, “Sorry, are you okay?” Catalina stooped down and plucked it from the grass, watching as Sydney examined her bare foot. 

“Yeah, but why are there arrows lying around on your lawn?”

“I was in Trackers last summer,” Catalina murmured, reaching the treehouse ladder and stepping onto the first rung. 

“What’s that?”

“It’s a wilderness survival camp. Archery, knife skills, stuff like that. My dad was a boy scout, so he wanted me and Barbara to learn that stuff, too.” She started to climb, Sydney right behind her.

Pulling herself onto the platform, she scooted over to make room for Sydney. They shared a look, Sydney’s teeth bright in the moonlight. Then Catalina shrugged and slipped through the door.

The trickle of light from the window was just bright enough to show Lynnoria huddled beneath the old sleeping bag, pale blue hair tangled about her equally pale face. She blinked sleepily as Catalina switched on an old camping lantern that hung from the wall. 

“Apples?” She pushed herself upright, nose twitching. 

Sydney passed over the bag of food and the two girls watched as Lynnoria devoured the apple. All of it, core, seed and stem. When she’d finished, the fairy girl wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and gave the girls a faint smile. Catalina smiled back, looking sideways at Sydney who knelt beside her, practically bouncing with barely contained excitement. 

“Delicious.” Lynnoria bowed her head in thanks.

“There’s more food—in the bag. And water,” Sydney said.

“How are you feeling?” Catalina asked. 

Lynnoria cocked her head. “Somewhat better. I believe the bleeding has stopped.” She put the bag of food aside and peeled back the blanket, revealing her wound, the thin fabric of her top sticky with drying blood. 

 “Are you well enough to travel?”

The question hung there for a moment, and Catalina grimaced, realizing that it sounded like she wanted Lynnoria to leave immediately. She didn’t. Not until she examined her and discover if this was all some kind of hoax after all. She held the lantern higher, staring at the girl who was busy gulping down the bottled water. Her eyes and hair could be fake, Catalina decided, but the long thin fingers and sharp ears, only a team of professional costumers could figure out how to make them look so real. And who would go through all that trouble just to mess with her?

No, the girl had to be a fairy. Catalina bit her lip, the realization sinking in. 

“No, I think not,” Lynnoria said, answering Catalina’s question. “The bleeding may have stopped, but I am still weak from blood loss.”

“How were you injured?” Catalina asked.

Lynnoria hesitated. “I was somewhere I should not have been.” She paused. “I stumbled into an unstable section of Shadowpath and wound up here. It’s a wind blessing really, for if I had traveled home, as I intended, my mother would have been furious.”

“That you were hurt?” Sydney asked.

She shook her head. “That I had traveled the Shadowpaths without her permission.”

“Why did you?” Catalina asked.

“Full of questions, aren’t we, Shadowsister?” She raised an eyebrow and shrugged. “I was meeting a friend. Someone my family does not approve of. We had agreed to meet on another isle. But the path I choose was less stable than expected.”  

Lynnoria moved forward, pinning Catalina with her strange cat-eyes. The tugging in Catalina’s stomach started up again as the girl drew near. 

That feeling, she realized, it must have something to do with our Shadowsister connection.

“There is something more I must ask of you,” Lynnoria said. 

Catalina wanted to look away, to ignore the feeling of connection with this strange creature that was threatening to unravel all of her beliefs. But she couldn’t. The longer she stared into Lynnoria’s eyes, the more she felt that they were indeed sisters, of a sort. That whatever the girl wanted, she would do. 

“I need you to travel to my home in Starkhaven and bring back a jar of Haelmarrow salve, to speed my healing. There is some in our storeroom.”

Catalina gaped at her. “What! No. No way.” She shook her head and pushed herself back, away from Lynnoria, dimming the compelling tie that bound them together.

“I will send you there, you take the salve, and I will pull you back. It will take no more time than we’ve sat here talking. Then, come morning, I will be healed and gone,”

“If you have enough energy to send me there and back, why can’t you just send yourself?”

“I cannot risk my mother seeing me until my injury has healed. Completely. Give me your hand.”

Catalina shoved her hands behind her. “And what if your mom sees me? I doubt she’d appreciate a human stranger rummaging around in her house!”

“I will glamour you, of course. To look like me. It will be easy. As Shadowsisters we are already close in appearance.”

Catalina stared openmouthed at the fairy. She was out of her mind. They looked nothing alike.

“It’s true,” Sydney said, looking back and forth between them. “Your coloring is different, but the shape of your eyes, the high cheekbones. Even the curve of your lips. Very similar.”

Catalina snorted, though she had to admit that her eyebrows arched in much the same way as Lynnoria’s. But still.

“This is ridiculous. You’re saying you have enough magic to make me look like you and send me through the shadows to your island and back, just to retrieve some ointment?” She snorted again.

“What happens if you don’t get the salve?” Sydney asked.

“Then I fear I will be here longer than one night. A wound this serious might take weeks to heal properly. Weeks that I do not have. Not only will my mother tear the isles apart looking for me, but I will miss the Academy Tourney.” She shook her head. “I must return before the full moon so I have time to prepare.”

The Academy Tourney? Catalina wondered if that was the Starkhaven equivalent to her school finals.

“I’ll do it,” Sydney said. 

Lynnoria gazed intently at Sydney for a moment. “What color is your blood?”

“What? Red. What color should it be?” Sydney looked taken aback.

“Yes, red.” Lynnoria waved a hand as if swatting away a fly. “But what color red? Crimson? Vermilion? Burgundy?”

“Uh, I never thought about it.” Sydney wrinkled her nose. “Dark red, I guess. Burgundy?”

“True Fae blood runs black,” Lynnoria said, considering her, “but when a human has Fae ancestors their blood is often darker than the usual crimson. Perhaps… well, take my hand and we shall see.”

Sydney reached out and Lynnoria laced their fingers together. Her eyes fluttered shut and her lips moved, forming soundless words. After a moment she opened her eyes and released Sydney, a small smile gracing her lips.

“I do detect a hint of Fae in your blood. I thought as much when I first saw you—your features remind me of some of the High Fae. Perhaps one of your ancestors hailed from Starkhaven.” Sydney stared at her, eye wide. “I could tap your shred of magic and send you there,” Lynnoria mused, “But I’m not sure I’d be able to bring you home. Unless I tapped into my bond with Lina and used that power to…” She broke off. “No. Valiant though your offer is, I wouldn’t send you needlessly into danger. I’d feel better sending my Shadowsister, whom I know I could bring home.”

Valiant! More like foolish, thought Catalina. 

But of course Sydney would want to travel to another world. She’d get to meet other fairies and bring back proof that magic truly existed. Catalina blinked. Maybe it wasn’t so foolish after all. 

She chewed on the end of her fingernail, thinking over Lynnoria’s request. If she went to Starkhaven, she could try to figure out the physics behind the Shadowpaths. Scientific proof for travel between worlds, just like in A Wrinkle in Time. Now that was Nobel prize worthy! But she’d be disguised as Lynnoria. And what if Lynnoria couldn’t bring her back? She could be stuck in Starkhaven as a fairy for the rest of her life.

 So perhaps Sydney should be the one to go. She’d believed in magic her entire life. And had volunteered. She even has fairy blood, Catalina thought, a trace of envy surging through her.

But traveling to another world was dangerous. Maybe no one should go, though that would mean Lynnoria would be stuck on Earth until fully healed.

Poll Results: Who should be sent to Starkhaven to retrieve the salve?
Catalina 92%
Sydney 8%
Neither 0%

Chapter Five: The Shadowpath

“I’ll do it. I’ll go,” Catalina blurted out.

Sydney looked over, her eyes once again wide with shock. “You—but Lina… you don’t even believe in magic!”

Catalina shrugged. She didn’t think either girl would appreciate her plan to uncover the science behind Shadowpath travel. “You heard Lynnoria,” she said. “She needs the salve. And I’m her Shadowsister.”

Sydney sighed and looked away.

“Excellent,” said Lynnoria, ignoring Sydney’s forlorn expression. “Take my hand. I’ll glamor you before summoning the Shadowpath.”

Hands linked, Lynnoria shut her eyes. Words tumbled from her lips, too soft to make out. A warm wind sprang up, circling Catalina until she felt as if she knelt in the eye of a small tornado. The smell of salt filled her nose, and a warmth brushed her skin, like the kiss of sunshine.

“When the glamor is complete, I’ll send you by Shadowpath to my family estate,” Lynnoria said, her voice muted through the rush of the wind. “I can’t control exactly where you’ll arrive, but it will be somewhere in the house. You need to locate the storeroom—it’s on the seventh floor. My bedroom is on the third. Kitchens on the sixth, the library on the eighth. If you find yourself in the atrium, make your way inside and locate the central staircase. You’ll know it by the pale stone steps.”

Catalina tried to pay attention, as Lynnoria described the layout of her home, but the wind had enveloped her completely, becoming a searing wave of heat. She struggled, her limbs stretching away from her as her very bones seemed to melt away, reforming in an unfamiliar shape. Teeth grinding together, she bit back a cry of pain.

“Once you reach the storeroom—there are carvings of akebia vines on the door—look for an emerald vial the size of my finger.” 

As Lynnoria released her hand, the wind died away and the heat dissipated, leaving Catalina shaking. Every muscle in her body ached, as if she had just run a marathon. She collapsed against the wall, inhaling cool night air in ragged gulps.

“Oh,” Sydney gasped, staring at her. Catalina raised a hand, studying her fingers. Gone were the familiar square tips and ragged nails; instead, long hands tapered to narrow points. She lifted one to her face, tracing narrow features, pointed ears and a small upturned nose. Locks of long waving hair draped her shoulder, as blue as the forget-me-nots that grew by the garden gate. Catalina’s eyes flew to Lynnoria, wondering if they’d traded bodies—if she’d see herself sitting there wrapped up in the tattered sleeping bag.

But no, Lynnoria appeared the same, her eyes narrowed in amusement. 

“Hold your hand up like this,” she commanded, lifting one palm up. Catalina did as she bid.

“Good,” Lynnoria said, “Now place the other like so.”

Catalina mimicked her, wondering if this was part of the spell.

“Nod your head,” Lynnoria said, bobbing her own up and down. 

Catalina did, and the fairy dissolved into laughter. “It’s like looking in a mirror,” she gasped. 

“Hilarious,” Catalina dropped her hands. She was starting to regret helping her so-called Shadowsister. “How will you know when I have the salve?”

“Excellent question,” Lynnoria said, and plucked a small red gem from her ear. “You’ll wear this. It will act as both signal and failsafe. When you are ready, rotate the stone like so and I will bring you home. But keep it safe. If the stone breaks, it will weaken both your glamor and the link between us.” With a flourish, she pressed the earring into Catalina’s hand. “Oh, and whatever you do, don’t lose it.”

Catalina stared down at the stone, wrapped in loops of gold chain. 

“What are you waiting for? Put it on.”

“My ears aren’t pierced,” Catalina admitted.

Lynnoria looked at her, nonplussed. “Really?” She took back the gem and scooted closer, her fingers reaching out to inspect Catalina’s ear.

Catalina glanced at Sydney, at the pearl earring nestled in her earlobe. Sydney should be going instead of me, she thought with a sigh. Even the prospect of winning the Nobel prize wasn’t enough to quell the gnawing in her stomach. 

A sudden pain shot through her ear.

“Ow!” she exclaimed, her fingers flying to the thin chain that now dangled there. 

She just shoved that through my ear, she realized, staring at the smear of blood on her finger. Glaring at Lynnoria, she wiped the blood across the hem of her shirt. 

“Now then.” Lynnoria studied her, ignoring Catalina’s scowl. “I’m afraid your clothing won’t do at all.” Unfastening her gold belt, she slipped off a layer of pale pink cloth from around her shoulders and gestured for Catalina to put it on. Beneath it lay another layer of gauzy fabric, this one a pale gold. 

“Put that on and fasten the belt around it,” she instructed, as she tugged off her boots. “Tuck your pants into these.” 

Catalina complied. The fabric was more of a shawl than a proper shirt, but, along with the belt and boots, it transformed her pajamas into something approximating the fairy’s garb. She ran her hands along one arm, marveling at the cool silkiness of the cloth.

“It will do,” Lynnoria said, nodding to herself. “With any luck, you won’t meet a soul.”

“Wait, what?”

“I said, hopefully you won’t run into anyone else.” She frowned. “Though you look like me, no one would believe I’d dress so shoddily.”

“You never said anything about meeting others!”

“My entire family lives with me. Besides my parents, there’s Rill and Davious my two brothers,” She ticked the names off on her fingers. “As well as my aunt and her three daughters. And my mother’s Windwhisperers. However, everyone should be asleep. Unless you insist on asking questions until dawn.” 

“Fine.” The gnawing in Catalina’s stomach became a raging pit of fear but she pushed it back and held her chin high. “I guess I’m ready.” 

Lynnoria slipped her fingers through Catalina’s and shut her eyes. “Let’s hope this works,” she murmured, and began whispering to herself once more.

Eyes flying open at the words, Catalina tried to snatch her hand away, but Lynnoria held it in an iron grip. She tossed a desperate look to Sydney, who stared back with a mixture of envy and fascination. All around the room the shadows grew, creeping up the walls, blotting out the lantern’s feeble glow. Catalina’s eyes flicked back to Lynnoria, her sharp features transformed as shadows crawled across her face. Shadows seemed to spill from Lynnoria’s lips to the floor, becoming a river of ink that stretched between them. 

“Come,” Lynnoria said, her voice breaking the silence that had settled around them like a cloak. The fairy stood, guiding Catalina to her feet. Their eyes locked and Lynnoria gave her a small half-smile. 

“Remember, do not spin the gem until you have found the haelmarrow.” 

Catalina nodded, all her words stuck deep in her throat.

“Lina, wait!” Sydney stepped around the river of darkness to envelope Catalina in a warm hug. “You’ve got this. Remember,” tears welled in her eyes, “the storeroom in on the seventh floor. Vines on the door. Look for a thin green tube.”

Catalina clutched Sydney tighter. “Don’t let her leave me there,” she whispered.

Sydney released her and stepped away with a sad smile, tugging at a lock of her hair that had caught on Catalina’s elongated ear. 

“Go,” Lynnoria cried out, her voice edged with panic. “I can’t hold it for long.”

“This was a terrible idea,” Catalina said, and stepped forward, tumbling into darkness.

Sydney watched as Catalina seemed to fall through the floor of the treehouse. She disappeared, swallowed up by the shadows. A feeling of loss rippled through Sydney as she imagined Catalina landing in another world. A world filled with magic.

“Something’s wrong!”

Sydney turned towards Lynnoria, all feelings of envy forgotten at the sight of Lynnoria’s pale face.

“What is it?”

The fairy tore her eyes from the Shadowpath and stared at Sydney.

“You, come here,” she demanded, throwing a hand out as if she could control Sydney with the gesture. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“The binding… Something’s wrong. Come. Here.” 

The words pulled at Sydney until she scuttled to Lynnoria’s side. The fairy stared at her, eyes growing impossibly wide as they caught on Sydney’s hair. “No.” Her voice came out as a whisper.

Reaching up, Sydney ran a hand through her hair. Something small tangled there, and she pulled it free, starring in horror at the earring that was, until moments ago, nestled in Catalina’s ear.

“No,” Sydney gasped. “What do we do?”

“You must follow her.” 

Sydney’s mouth fell open. “But… You said you couldn’t bring me back.”

“I will find a way. Go. Now. Find her and stay together.”

Sydney swallowed, and without looking back stepped forward into the dark maelstrom at her feet.

Traveling by Shadowpath is not as easy as Lynnoria made it out to be, Catalina thought, as she struggled through the storm that raged around her. She felt like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, caught up in a tornado, everything familiar ripped away. 

“Lina,” a voice called out. It sounded like Sydney. 

That’s impossible.

But it was Sydney, gliding through the wind as if strolling through the park. Catalina struggled towards her, reaching out. Their hands met, and the wind fell away. 

Catalina blinked. They stood in a small hallway in front of a carved wooden door. A single gleam of light flickered in a sconce, lighting the hall with its hazy glow. Behind them, a set of spiraling marble steps led to the floors above and below them.

The girls looked at each other. 

“What are you doing here?” Catalina said in a whisper.

In answer, Sydney held out her hand, the earring nestled in her palm. 

Catalina’s eyes widened, and she plucked it from Sydney’s hand. “How…”

“I’ll explain later. Let’s find the storeroom.”

Catalina nodded, and gestured to the door. “Could this be it?”

“Not sure. What do akebia vines look like?”

Catalina shrugged. “Maybe the storeroom is upstairs?” 

“Should we look downstairs?” Sydney said at the same time.

Poll results:
Where should they look first?

Behind the carved door? 60%
Down the Stairs? 30%
Up the Stairs? 10%

Chapter Six: Davious

The carved door clicked open with a snick. Catalina pushed, intending to widen it just enough to creep through. But it seemed she’d gained Lynnoria’s supernatural strength as well as her appearance; the door flew open, slamming against the far wall with a bang. Wincing, she stepped through, finding herself in an enormous room filled with tables, comfy-looking armchairs and rows of bookshelves.

“The library,” Sydney said, her voice a reverent whisper. 

Catalina gazed around in awe. The ceiling towered overhead, tall windows curving along one wall, allowing pale sunlight to filter in and illuminate shelf after shelf of books.

Catalina’s eyes raked hungrily across the shelves. What treasures were buried here, in the vast library of another world? Her fingers itched to caress the covers, flip through the pages, search for the answers to interdimensional travel and the inner workings of Lynnoria’s magic. 

“Lina, look. The sky.” Sydney gestured to the windows. “It’s supposed to be night.”

Catalina blinked. In her awe over the books, she hadn’t thought twice about the golden light pouring in through the windows. Pink and gold, the colors of sunrise. Or sunset. She looked to Sydney, their eyes meeting in a moment of shared apprehension.

“The traveling must have taken longer than expected,” Catalina whispered, looking around in sudden worry. With the sun rising, the household would start waking up. Might already be awake. 

“It did take forever to find you. We have to hurry.” Sydney grabbed her by the hand, pulling her from the room. Catalina cast a reluctant glance back towards the books. Shutting the door behind them, Sydney sagged against it, her face pale with worry. 

The narrow hall wrapped around in a circle, mirroring the angle of the windows in the library.  This section of the house curved, Catalina realized, like the rooms of a tower. She eyed the staircase that twisted down into darkness just steps from the doorway. A few feet away another flight beckoned, twisting up, also into darkness. 

“Which way?”

“Lynnoria said the storeroom is on the seventh floor,” Sydney said, heading for the stairs. “Her bedroom is on the third, kitchens on the sixth and the library on the eighth.” She smiled triumphantly and started down the steps. “We found the library. We’re only one floor away.” 

“You have a really good memory.” Catalina trailed behind Sydney. 

“My mom says it’s mnemonic, whatever that means.” Sydney shrugged. “Comes in useful during tests.” 

Catalina grinned. “And during missions to the realm of fairies.” Then her smile faltered. She grabbed Sydney, motioning for her to be quiet. Soft footsteps reached her pointed ears, coming from further down the steps. Gesturing for Sydney to follow, she turned, prowling back towards the library as stealthily as she could. Which, as it turned out, was very, very stealthy. 

This new body, Lynnoria’s body, felt so strange. Both graceful and strong, yet she still stumbled over her own feet as she tried to adjust to walking with these longer, more powerful legs. Her hearing was better, too; her human ears wouldn’t have picked up the footsteps until it was too late.

After slipping back to the library door, Sydney clattering along behind her, Catalina turned the knob and eased the door open with extreme care. She stepped inside, followed by Sydney, who scuttled past her to hide between the shelves. Catalina turned to follow Sydney when a voice rang out.

“Mother’s looking for you.” 

A boy’s voice, coming from the far end of the library.

Catalina’s head whipped around, her eyes searching the shadows. But the boy sat at a table by the window, bathed in bright morning light, his periwinkle hair short and curling, a book open before him.

She gaped, wondering when—how—he’d gotten in. He hadn’t been there earlier, when they’d first opened the door, Catalina was sure of it. 

“Lynnoria, did you hear me?” He cast her an irritated glance. 

“Um… yeah. Yes. Where… where is she? Mother, I mean?” Catalina managed, trying not to fiddle with  the edge of her sleeve.

The boy, one of Lynnoria’s brothers based on the color of his hair and the look in his amber eyes, peered at her. 

“What’s wrong with you? And what are you wearing?”

She tugged self-consciously at her rumpled pajamas. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“Whatever. Don’t tell me then.” He looked back down at his book. “She’s in the dining hall by now, I imagine. It’s nearly breakfast. Be prepared—she’s on a rampage this morning. And finding your bedroom empty did not help. Where’ve you been?”

Though he didn’t look at her, she could hear the curiosity in his voice. Catalina searched for an answer, fear pooling in her stomach like slime, slippery and thick.

“Fine, don’t tell me,” he said, after a moment of strained silence. Standing, he pushed his chair out and strolled towards her. “Though I imagine you want to change first. Come on, I’ll help you think of an alibi on the way to your rooms.”

The boy looked older than Catalina had first realized. Ten. Perhaps eleven. He wore a deep orange tunic, with glittering leggings tucked into tall leather boots. A large, sheathed dagger hung from his belt and another blade nestled against his arm, leather bands holding it in place. All together he looked exactly like she’d expect a fairy boy to look, except for his face—which wore a very human look of annoyance. 

Catalina knew that expression. It was the same one she often gave her older sister.

“What?” she said as he approached. 

He rolled his eyes. “I just can’t believe you. Gone the whole night, and now late for breakfast—on today of all days. Just wait till mother sees you. You are so gonna catch it.”

He walked past her, heading for the door. Catalina followed, bitting her lip. Part of her was dying to know what he meant by today of all days, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was finding the storeroom. Let Lynnoria deal with the repercussions once she returned.

He paused by the door, sniffing the air. “What’s that smell?” His head swiveled, then fast as lighting, he darted down a row of books. Catalina gnawed on her fingernail, wondering where Sydney had hidden.

“Oh, hi!” Sydney’s bright voice rang out from the shadowed depths. “You must be Rill. Lynnoria told me all about you.”

Thank goodness for Sydney’s mnemonic memory, Catalina thought. Just the sight of the boy had sent every thought, including the names of Lynnoria’s brothers, flying from her head.

“Obviously not, as I’m Davious,” the boy said with a glower. He turned to Catalina. “So that’s what you’ve been doing. I can’t believe you’ve chosen a Shapecaster as your second.” He spit out, then stalked back up the aisle. “I cannot wait to hear what mother says.”

Sydney widened her eyes at Catalina and mouthed, Shapecaster? 

Catalina shrugged and followed Davious from the room with a resigned sigh. 

She held her breath, wondering who else they’d meet, but perhaps everyone was already at breakfast, for they didn’t pass another soul as they wound down and down the stairs. Catalina stared longingly at the storeroom door as they passed, attempting to memorize the pattern carved on the door and wracking her brain for a reason to duck inside that Davious would believe. 

He stalked along, grilling her about where she’d been. Catalina deflected his questions as best she could until he stopped talking and just glowered, casting looks of suspicious curiosity at Sydney from time to time. When they reached the third floor, he pulled open a door and lead them into a warren of branching hallways. After winding through a maze of passageways, he stopped outside a door carved with stormy skies.

“Hurry up,” Davious said, gesturing to the door. “I’m starving.”

“You don’t have to wait. I’ll get ready and meet you in the dining room.” Catalina gave him what she hoped was a convincing smile.

“Ha, nice try. But no way. If mom knew I’d found you and let you out of my sight, she’d flay me. Plus, I wouldn’t miss her reaction for all the caster shells in Windward.” And he put his back to the wall, standing sentry.

Catalina sighed and followed Sydney inside.

“Shapecaster?” Sydney said once they’d shut the door. “Do you think that’s another word for human?”

“Doesn’t sound like it.” Catalina studied the room. High ceilings and large French doors gave the narrow room a feeling of space, even with the massive wooden furniture that filled it to bursting.  

“I guess,” Sydney continued, “but what else could it be? I mean, there’s no way Davious could mistake me for a fairy.”

Catalina walked over to the armoire and threw open the doors. An array of shimmering fabrics spilled out, an impressive amount of clothing for one girl. 

“Didn’t Lynnoria say you reminded her of the High Fae? Something about magic blood? Maybe you smell more fairy than human.” She rummaged through the clothing, marveling at the feel of the fabric as it slipped through her fingers. “What should I wear?”

Sydney sniffed at her arm experimentally, then began sorting the outfits, holding out one shimmering dress before shaking her head and tossing it onto the bed. “How will we get to the storeroom with Davious waiting for us?”

“What if you slip away and get the salve while I distract him?”

“No way. What if I run into someone else without Lynnoria with me to explain my presence? Here, put this on.” She pulled a billowing blue tunic and a pair of gold leggings out and handed them to Catalina.

“We could try sneaking out,” Catalina said, gesturing to the doors that led outside, “and see if there’s any way to the storeroom.”

“We’re on the third floor.”

“So? There could be stairs, or, I don’t know, ladders.” Catalina pulled her clothes off, slipping into the clean shirt and pants before tugging back on the boots and wrapping the belt around her waist, wishing she had a knife like Davious’ to strap to it.

“Aren’t you even the least bit curious what fairies eat for breakfast?” Sydney asked.

“What?”

“Breakfast. Quail eggs, or… strange fruits.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well,” said Sydney. “I’m thinking we should sneak off to the storeroom after breakfast.”

“What! No way. Davious is already suspicious, and I’d have to fool Lynnoria’s mom and… and anyone else there, too.”

“Yeah, but—fairy breakfast.” Sydney licked her lips and grinned. 

Catalina laughed. Adjusting her shirt, she slipped to the glass doors peered out before walking back over to the desk, where Sydney waited with an ornate hairbrush. “There are stairs. I couldn’t see where they led though, other than down.” Sydney run the brush through her windswept hair and fastened it into a braid wound round her head in a rough approximation of Lynnoria’s hairstyle. 

“We could sneak down them and find a different way upstairs,” Sydney said, her voice doubtful.

 “Or spin the gem and tell Lynnoria that we failed.” Catalina offered, though she didn’t like the idea of giving up so easily. 

A sharp rap on the door startled her into silence.

“Hurry up in there. I don’t want to miss breakfast,” Davious called out.

“Fairy breakfast,” Sydney whispered and both girls dissolved into a fit of laughter.

Poll: What should they do next?
Go with Davious to breakfast and slip away to the storeroom later? 87%
Slip outside through the glass doors? 13%
Try to distract Davious and slip away to the storeroom before breakfast? 0%
Spin the gem and return empty handed to Lynnoria 0%

Chapter Seven: Fairy Breakfast

“Ok,” Catalina said. “Let’s go to breakfast. But,” she held a finger up, “we head to the storeroom immediately afterwards.”

Sydney nodded her agreement. She still wore her nightgown, Catalina realized, yet Davious hadn’t said a word about it. Which wasn’t too surprising, as somehow it seemed to belong in Starkhaven, its light fabric as ethereal as the clothing spilling from Lynnoria’s armoire. And maybe it was thanks to her touch of fairy blood, but Sydney also seemed to belong here—her narrow chin and long red curls as delicate as the carvings that covered every bit of the wooden furniture. 

But, thought Catalina, pulling a green tunic and leggings from the pile, fairy blood or not, we can’t risk Sydney’s human clothes giving us away. “Put these on.” She handed the clothes to Sydney. “I hope Lynnoria’s mother is as easily fooled as Davious.”

And with that chilling thought, the girls went in search of a fairy breakfast. 

They stepped into the hall, and Davious spun, a dagger glinting in his hand. 

For a moment Catalina stared at him, sure he’d seen through her glamor and was about to take them prisoner. But instead, he gave her a grim smile, and flipped the knife around, extending the handle towards her with a bow. “I’d like you to borrow my blade. For the Tourney.” 

“I… thank you,” Catalina said after another moment of stunned silence, and took the knife, strapping it to her belt. 

“I’m hoping that you will grant me a boon,” he said, turning to walk down the hall. She fell in beside him, wondering what he wanted.

As they’d dressed, Sydney had reeled out endless bits of advice gleaned from years of reading fairytales: say little; listen carefully; no dancing; and most importantly, never make bargains or promises. 

“During the Tourney,” he said, “do whatever it takes to beat Magwallow. I know it’s asking a lot,” Davious added in a rush, his face twisting with malice, “but their heir, Elkis, sullied the name of our house during the spring revels and mother made me swear to ignore it.”

“I’ll… see what I can do,” Catalina hedged. 

He nodded, his face relaxing, and led them through the winding halls, emerging in a large atrium bursting with exotic plants. The heady fragrance reminded Catalina of her grandma’s perfume, and she rubbed her nose, trying to keep from sneezing.  

As they wove among the plants Sydney cast Catalina a worried glance. They were in an unfamiliar part of the house, nowhere near the storeroom. Catalina shrugged, shaking her head. All they could do was hope they could find their way back when the time came.

They walked up a flight of wide stone steps and emerged in a bright room with walls of pink stone, shot through with streaks of gold. A massive dining table could seat an army of fairies, but thankfully only one seat was occupied, the room otherwise empty.  

Sydney gave a slight squeal as the smell of freshly baked bread and savory spices reached them, but Catalina ignored the food, following Davious to where the fuchsia-haired fairy sat, her face set in grave displeasure.

“Mother,” he said, folding himself into a deep bow. 

She was the spitting image of Lynnoria, except for the color of her hair and the measure of maturity in her amber eyes. One bright eyebrow lifted, and Catalina flushed, fumbling her way through a stilted curtsy. Her breath seemed stuck in her chest, and she waited for Lynnoria’s mother to call her a fraud and send them to the dungeons. 

Instead, the woman sighed. “I swear Lynnoria, if you spent more time with your tutors, and less time traipsing around the Shadowpaths, you might manage a suitable greeting for your poor, beleaguered mother.” She nodded to the sideboard. “Eat. We have little time.” 

Platters of food, both familiar and peculiar, greeted Catalina as she made her way along the sideboard. Sticking with those she recognized—and hoping to avoid any chance of accidental poisoning—she served herself eggs, a sweet roll, and a handful of small orange fruits that she hoped were kumquats.

To Catalina’s horror, Sydney passed up almost every recognizable dish, opting instead for the most unusual of foods: a gelatinous blue pudding; some kind of gleaming black fruit with red thorns; and a steaming pile of pale green… something… that looked like a cross between boiled spinach and worms. 

I hope she doesn’t get sick, Catalina fretted. Who knows how fairy digestion works. She mused on this as she returned to the table, sitting beside Davious. Most of the differences between fairies—at least the few she’d met—and humans seemed relatively minor: longer, stronger limbs; pointed ears; sharper senses. And a grasp over the magical arts. I wonder how similar our DNA is. Are humans more closely related to fairies or chimpanzees? And is it a genetic difference that allows fairies to master magic, or is it something humans might learn, if only given the proper instruction?

She wanted to discuss it with Sydney, who had a much greater knowledge of the fairy folk—even if most of it came from myths and legends—but Lynnoria’s mother cleared her throat, and said, “Well, Lynnoria, aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?”

Catalina quickly swallowed the bite of eggs she’d taken, grateful that they tasted normal—delicious, actually, though she hated to admit it—and glanced at Sydney, who sat beside her, staring down at her plate with a gleam of anticipation, as if she couldn’t decide what delicacy to try first.

“This is Syd—” Catalina began.

“Sydrial,” Sydney cut in smoothly. “A Shapecaster. And Lynnoria’s second.”

Catalina gave Sydney a horrified glare. What happened to saying as little as possible?

Lynnoria’s mother again raised an eyebrow, her face otherwise blank. She studied Sydney for one long, tortuous moment, then turned to Catalina. “Interesting choice. I expected you to choose another Windweaver, bringing further glory to our house. But… allying yourself with one of the High Fae—though a lesser branch—well, you are making a statement.” The woman tapped a finger against her lips. “Which Shapecaster clan do you hail from? The Darrowblights?” She asked Sydney. 

Sydney nodded, her eyes on her plate. 

“Hmmm,” Lynnoria’s mother stared at Sydney, as if the truth of her heritage was written across her nose. “And who cursed you into human form?” the woman asked idly, as if being cursed was something that happened every day.

“M… my mother,” Sydney blurted out after a moment of silence. 

Catalina shut her eyes, sure that Lynnoria’s mother would finally realize her daughter was a human imposter.

But the woman burst out laughing, a sound like the ringing of chimes. “Well, I will not break it then. Though with your permission I shall glamor over it, so no one will question you once the competition begins.”

There it was again, that reference to the competition. The Tourney—which Lynnoria had claimed was weeks away. But what had Davious said? Today of all days? What could that mean? A pit of ice welled up inside Catalina’s chest.

 Lynnoria’s mother called Sydney over and waved a hand over her. A wind kicked up, swirling around Sydney in a summer-scented breeze. 

When it died away Sydney stood there—herself, yet not. Long ears poked up from hair red as the setting sun. Her freckles gleamed copper against skin that shimmered like the inside of a seashell. Her eyes seemed larger too, something Catalina had not thought possible.

Altogether, although her features were those of a fairy, she still mostly looked like herself. As if her own form was not terribly different from that of a Darrowblight. Whatever that was. Fairy blood, Catalina mused once again, as Sydney returned to her seat, stumbling slightly on her longer, stronger legs.

Lynnoria’s mother watched her for a moment, then said grudgingly, “She is an acceptable second.” Whatever that was. “Finish your food. The path to Fountmont Isle will open momentarily. And, as you know, the sooner you arrive, the greater chance you have of gaining a worthwhile perk. No doubt the other families are readying their champions as we speak.” 

“Readying… for what?” Catalina asked through a mouthful of bread.

“For the Choosing. The first phase of the Tourney.”

“But… the Tourney isn’t until the full moon,” Catalina said, heart sinking.

Lynnoria’s mother glared across the table at Davious, who was busy shoveling food into his mouth. He swallowed, and with a winning smile he stood, edging for the door. “Well, I’m late for training. Best of luck, sister.”

“Davious, foul child of mine,” his mother sent a  fond, yet exasperated look at Davious’ back, “should have told you. We only received notice this morning. The Tourney has changed. To today.” 

Catalina stared at her in wordless horror.

“They say it’s because of the weather, but I am convinced Magwallow is behind it.” She wiggled her fingers, dismissing the details. “Regardless, you are ready Lynnoria, and I know you—and your second,” she narrowed her eyes at Sydney, “will make our houses proud. Remember your training, and you will do well. My only regret is that Rill and your father are not here to see you off.”

There had to be a way out of this. “I… I need to gather a few supplies before I head out.” She stood. “Just… a few things from the storeroom. Sydn… uh, come with me, please.”

Lynnoria’s mother’s brow creased as Catalina stumbled back from the table. “There’s no time. Besides, you can’t bring anything but what you are wearing.”

The sky darkened, casting the room into a preternatural dusk. “It is time.” The woman stood and pinned Catalina with a fierce look, “Remember, Windweavers do not break beneath the storm, we bend, dancing along with the tempest.” Her face softened into a gentle smile. “Your house is depending on you. Do not let us down. And,” she added, “choose wisely.” 

An inky cloud swirled through the room, heading straight for Catalina. She reached out, catching Sydney’s hand in her own. The cloud struck, and they fell into shadow.

Catalina once again traveled the Shadowpaths, Sydney’s hand the only thing she could feel, other than a sharp prick of fear. Only this time she found herself whisked along, with no control over her direction. And then, just as suddenly as it had appeared, the darkness retreated, and she found herself standing on a narrow spit of sand, everything but Sydney obscured by a thick, white fog.

“Greetings champions,” a disembodied voice boomed out. “And welcome to the two-hundred and seventy-fourth Starkhaven Junior Academy Tournament. Before you meet the other teams, choose your perk.”

The mist rolled back revealing three objects hovering in the air: a silver fish; a copper dragon; and a golden owl. 

Catalina looked at Sydney. “We have to get out of here.”

“I know, but how?”

The earring flicked through Catalina’s mind. But without the salve, Lynnoria would miss the Tournament, bringing shame and failure down upon her house. Catalina didn’t know if that mattered. If the Tournament was just for fun, or a serious judgment of the participants’s skills. What if Lynnoria’s future was at stake?

“Maybe we can make them send us back to Lynnoria’s house.” She pursed her lips. “When we’re sent to meet the other teams, we’ll tell them that actually, I’m not your second, that it’s your brother. Tell them you need to return home and retrieve him.”

Catalina mulled over the idea. It was a long shot, but she had nothing better to offer. She nodded. “Okay. So let’s pick.” She reached a hand out, intending to grab the nearest object, but Sydney lunged forward, pushing Catalina to the ground. 

“You can’t just pick any old thing!” Sydney glared at her. “Didn’t you hear Lynnoria’s mom? ‘Choose wisely’. Not ‘choose whatever’s closest’. We have to be thoughtful. Lynnoria’s stuck with whatever we select.”

If we can even retrieve her, Catalina thought, standing up and brushing sand from her clothes. “Fine, but you didn’t have to tackle me.” She glowered at Sydney, who smiled sheepishly.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to.” She held out an arm. “The glamor strengthened my body. Made it faster, too.”

“Yeah, me too. It’s… kind of cool.” Catalina smiled. Sydney grinned back.

“So,” Catalina said, turning to the items, “which one?”

“Well, the dragon could be fire power. Water for the fish,” Sydney said, not sounding very certain.

“And the owl is air?” Catalina mulled this over. “Could be. Or, maybe the fish is the ability to breathe underwater, and the owl is wisdom, and the dragon is…”

“Strength? Could be. Or it could be something totally different. We’ll have to take our best guess.”

Catalina chewed on her fingernail, the words ‘choose wisely’ ringing in her head.

Poll Results: What Perk should they select?
The Golden Owl 50%
The Copper Dragon 38%
The Silver Fish 12%

Chapter Eight: The Choosing

The owl shimmered beneath Catalina’s fingers and disappeared, leaving them standing on the empty strip of sand, surrounded by mist. 

“Lina, look.” Sydney pointed to Catalina’s shirt, where a small owl badge now sat, fastened with a golden pin. 

Catalina reached for it, intending to tug it free, but a slight shock went through her hand as it grazed the metal. 

“Ow!” She sucked on her fingers. “It shocked me.”

Sydney leaned in to study it. “I wonder what it’s for.”

“It’s supposed to be some kind of boon.”

“Right, but how do we use it if you can’t even touch it without being hurt?”

Catalina opened her mouth to say that maybe it recognized her lack of magic, that that’s why it shocked her, but the fog chose that moment to retreat, revealing a narrow path leading to the distant shoreline where rocky cliffs and swirling blue water beckoned.

“That’s Lynnoria’s problem,” Catalina said, “Let’s figure out how to get home and let her solve the mystery of the golden owl.” And ignoring the flicker of disappointment in Sydney’s eyes, Catalina grabbed her hand and began walking.

The climb up the steep staircase carved into the cliffs left her breathless and wishing she’d spent more time over the last few weeks bike riding, not just sitting around working on her weather station. She heaved herself up and collapsed on the top of the cliff in exhaustion. Sydney struggled up behind her, but instead of falling to the ground, she stared straight ahead. Catalina stood and followed Sydney’s gaze.

Spread out before them was a stretch of lush green grass dotted with a scattering of wind-smoothed stones and a large granite dais where several other fairies gathered together. They were far enough away that Catalina couldn’t make out their faces. Only that there were many, and they all watched as she and Sydney approached. 

The trek through the buffeting wind and up the steps of the stone platform did nothing to ease Catalina’s aching legs, and it brought her no closer to figuring out how to get back to Lynnoria’s home without raising suspicion. 

As they came into full view of the other fairies, Catalina pressed her lips together, trying to master the regal, confident bearing that Lynnoria always had, even when injured and half-asleep on the floor of Catalina’s treehouse. Sydney however stared around them in openmouthed awe. 

Eight other pairs of fairies stood atop the dais, a shimmering image of an animal hovering above each group. It must be the other competitors. She led Sydney towards the only empty space—with a golden owl flying overhead—pretending a confidence she did not feel, looking sidelong at the other fairies as she passed.

Standing below a brass fox were two fairies, both wearing blue scaled armor and expressions of cautious excitement. Beneath a coiled snake stood a girl with curling red hair who looked so much like Sydney that Catalina wondered if she was an actual Darrowblight. The girl beside her, her long lavender hair braided into a coronet atop her head, gave them a tentative smile as they passed. Catalina nodded her head in return, noticing that the girl’s ears were rounded, her body shorter and less willowy than her friend. In fact, except for the color of her hair, she could nearly pass for human.

The next pair, stationed beneath a silver fish, were as different from the others as the sun was from the moon. These fairies had the same long-limbs and pointed ears of the others, but feathers slicked across their scalps and down their backs. Then came two with scales, their eyes glowing like phosphorescent plankton, while the next team wore nothing but the thick fur that covered their skin and intricately woven belts.

All together, of the nine groups of fairies, five looked like Lynnoria—more or less human, except for their overlong limbs and pointed ears. The other four teams all looked… wilder. More like the fairies Catalina had always imagined, with wings and scales, horns and dragon-like eyes.

Lynnoria had mentioned something about True Fae. And her mother had said that the Darrowblights were a lesser branch of High Fae. Could these other fairies, the ones with wings and scales, be the True Fae? Or were True Fae and High Fae the same thing? And who or what, for that matter, was Magwallow? The confusing thoughts jumbled about in her head as she took her place beneath the shimmering owl.

Then a deafening crack rang out and the dais lurched, sending Catalina careening into Sydney, knocking them both towards the edge of the platform and the sheer drop to the grass far below. The ground shook again and they staggered forward, just managing to keep their footing. A rupture formed in the center of the dais as a section broke free and rose up in a billowing cloud of dust. 

Catalina coughed, her heart pounding as she waited for the shaking to begin again.

Instead, a voice boomed out, “Greetings Champions, and welcome to the Starkhaven Junior Academy Tournament.”

As the dust settled, a swirl of black mist appeared, depositing a man on top of the shard of rock that now loomed above them. He turned in a slow circle, baring his teeth in a wolfish grin. While the fairy Champions were young—school-aged like Lynnoria—this fairy seemed ageless, his skin the pale blue of a glowworm, silver horns curling above his sharp ears.

“As you likely know,” he continued, “I am Mortov Swaenrite, Master of Ceremonies. Before we begin the Choosing, I will review the rules and regulations. A few of the rules have changed to make the Tourney more… equitable. So listen carefully.” He cleared his throat and flicked a wrist, a roll of paper appearing in his hand. 

“All competitors act of their own free will,” he continued, but Catalina wasn’t listening. She rubbed her sweaty palms together. She had to act. The sooner she spoke up, the sooner she could trade places with Lynnoria. She only wished she didn’t have such a large audience. 

With a gulp, she raised a shaking hand. 

“Lina, what are you doing?” Sydney hissed, pulling at her arm.

“Excuse me. There’s been a mistake,” she called out, her voice overloud in the sudden quiet as every head turned towards her. “My brother was to be my Second. I need to return home. To bring him in her stead.” She gestured to Sydney, holding her breath.

Perhaps he would only allow Sydney to leave, requiring Catalina, as primary Champion, to stay here. She knew it was a possibility. And she was perfectly ready to hand Sydney the earring and trust that Lynnoria would get her out somehow. But she crossed her fingers behind her back, hoping Mortov would be lenient and let them both go.

He stared down at her incredulously—as if he couldn’t believe she’d interrupted him. In fact, based on his expression, it was possible that no one had ever interrupted him in his life. “You need to…” His eyebrows lifted, higher and higher. 

She swallowed, looking at the Master of Ceremonies with what she hoped was calm assurance. 

The others watched, their faces set in varying levels of amusement. One boy in particular, with hair like the palest flame, was openly laughing, his voice a rough cackle. 

“Impossible,” said Mortov. You made your choice. And as you all know, once you arrive here on Fountmont Isle, you may only leave when the Tourney has ended.” He turned back to the slip of paper in his hand, dismissing her.

Catalina’s heart sank as he read, “This Tournament is a test of the skills you have mastered during your years at Starkhaven Junior Academy. While we expect that each of you has enough knowledge to pass the challenges in store, how each house performs will serve as a recommendation for their family’s upcoming role on the Council. And,” he added, raising his brows and winking, “while I don’t imagine you younglings care much about the Council, I am certain that your parents do.”

A round of half-hearted laughter filled the air, but Catalina hardly heard it. Her dread had grown with every word until she felt like she couldn’t breathe.

Sydney grabbed her hand. “What are we going to do?” she whispered. “If Mortov won’t send us back…”

“We can’t participate in Lynnoria’s place. There’s no way we’ll be able to compete without magic.” Catalina’s eyes pricked, and she blinked furiously, forcing the tears away. “We have to find another way to make the switch.”

Sydney nodded, her face pale. “I know. But how?” 

“I don’t know.” Catalina desperately racked her brain for some solution. They’d have to spin the earring, she decided, spin it and hope that Lynnoria had recovered enough after one night of rest to return home. As unlikely as that was. And that she could make her way back to the competition without causing suspicion. Or at least without being disqualified. What would happen, she wondered, if she messed this up for Lynnoria’s family? Would they be disgraced? Lose their place on the Council?

No, she told herself. I’m not the one who snuck out and was so badly injured that she had to transport herself between worlds. If we fail, and Lynnoria’s family suffers, that’s on her.

She wished she believed the words, wished she could ignore the twinge of guilt as she reached for her ear. Then hesitated. Perhaps she should find a better time to spin the earring. If they vanished now, there would be no way to hide Lynnoria’s apparent flouting of the rules. They’d disqualify her immediately. She’d have to wait. Once the Choosing finished the Champions would surely get a moment alone to prepare. She could make the switch then. 

“We have to spin the gem,” she said, her voice low. Sydney looked pained, but nodded. “But not now. We have to wait until…” 

“As House Windweaver cannot manage to pay proper attention to the proceedings,” Mortov said, his voice laced with irritation as he glowered at Catalina and Sydney, “they can have the honor…” He grinned nastily, making her think honor might not be the right word for whatever he was about to say. “Of choosing first.” 

He gestured and the stone platform beneath him disappeared, a large, three-dimensional map unfurling in its place.

“Come on. We haven’t got all day,” he continued, motioning Catalina over. 

She grimaced, then lifted her chin. Sydney following as she took a step towards the map. 

“Once Windweaver has selected,” Mortov said, “the four lesser Fae teams will choose, the order determined by their house’s importance, and then the four High Fae will make the selection, ending, of course with Magwallow.”

“Figures,” a nearby voice ground out. “So much for making the rules more equitable.”

“Shhh,” another voice hissed.

Catalina looked at the two fur-clad Fae as she passed, but they’d stopped talking and stood, arms crossed, glowering at Mortov. The other Fae all watched Catalina, their faces solemn. The boy with hair like white fire openly smirked, whispering something to his second, who snickered behind one hand. The girl with lavender braids glared at him, which only made him smirk all the wider. Catalina ignored them all and walked up to the map.

It showed scattered islands, swirling out like a spiral. The word Starkhaven hovering beneath. She leaned in for a closer look and the map changed, zooming in on a crescent-shaped island—six smaller islands contained within its reef. ‘Fountmont Isle’ hovered below, and as she watched three of the smaller islands lit up, their names appearing beside them.

“This year,” Mortov said, “contestants may choose between Lorivale, Vocranic, or Woldshelm Islands. Choose wisely. And quickly,” he added, narrowing his eyes at Catalina.

She studied the islands. One was mountainous, one held forests, and one looked to be mostly sand, with a small lake in the center. If only she had some idea what the competition entailed, she might have a sense of which one to pick. She looked to Sydney, who shrugged.

With a fervent wish that she was making the right choice, Catalina reached out and selected:

Poll Results: What Island does Catalina choose?
Woldshelm: 63%
Vorcranic: 25%
Lorivale: 12%

Chapter Nine: Break of Light

The Shadowpath came for Catalina the moment her fingers brushed the map—tracing across the forested island of Woldshelm. She groped for Sydney’s hand, clutching at it as the dais fell away into swirling darkness.

“And with this first Choosing the Break of Light Challenge has begun,” Mortov’s raspy voice boomed out. “Remember, each Isle holds three secrets, each secret holds a key. When apart they are but a symbol, but when joined they set you free. Though your skills are strong and varied, your fingers filled with might, which teams have the wiles to last until the break of light? Best of luck, Champions.” 

The voice faded, and Mortov’s cryptic words slipped away, leaving Catalina floating in silent, unending shadow. She couldn’t see her own body, couldn’t see anything but the seething darkness. If it weren’t for Sydney’s hand, clasped in her own, she might forget that she had a body at all. 

Then with a painful thump the Shadowpath receded, and she found herself next to Sydney on the hard-packed dirt. She rose, brushing bits of soil and leaves from her hands, and surveyed her surroundings. 

She stood in a small clearing in the middle of a dappled forest, impossibly tall trees blotting out the sky overhead. It reminded her of the redwood grove where she attended camp each summer, but older, wilder, something out of a Victorian wilderness, or the Neolithic age. Untouched, as if no human had ever pushed their way between the clumps of brambles and tangled vines. 

Perhaps none have, she realized. Perhaps I’m the first human on this island. She smiled, feeling a bit like an ancient explorer, braving the wilds in the name of scientific discovery. She wondered, idly, how old the trees were, and if they were indeed redwood trees. As far as she knew, redwoods only grew in California and Japan. According to Lynnoria, Starkhaven had once been a part of Earth. What if the islands of Starkhaven had lain in the Pacific ocean, close enough to California for redwood trees to take root, before magic had sucked them into this strange shadow world. Catalina sighed, still troubled by the reality of magic, even with the evidence surrounding her.

“It’s so beautiful,” Sydney said from where she stood, staring up at the canopy in awe. “I always wondered what a fairy forest would look like.” 

She traipsed off, inspecting the trees as if there was something innately magical about them. From what Catalina could see, they were just trees. The biggest she’d ever seen, sure, and quite majestic, but her idea of a fairy woodland, what little thought she’d given it, always included giant mushrooms and talking animals. 

But whether the woods held their own magic or not didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but getting home. Once she spun the earring and summoned the Shadowpath, Catalina would be on her way home, and the real Lynnoria could return before anyone was the wiser. Some might wonder what had happened to Sydney—Sydriel—but Lynnoria could figure that one out on her own. Catalina was done with covering for the girl, Shadowsister or not.

“Time to go.” she called to Sydney, reaching a hand out, the other resting on her ear. 

“I wonder what the riddle meant?” Sydney asked, staying where she was. “The one Mortov recited—about a key and lasting through the night?”

“Some kind of clue,” Catalina said. “I hope you remember it well enough. Lynnoria will want to hear it before she returns.” 

Sydney nodded vaguely, her eyes on the surrounding forest. “What do you think haelmarrow looks like?”

“What?”

“Haelmarrow. Is it a plant?”

Catalina shrugged, walking towards her friend. “I guess.”

“Because,” Sydney said taking a step back, “We’ve been gone, what, twelve hours? More? But without the salve, it might take days for Lynnoria to heal.”

Catalina stilled, recalling the horror she’d felt at the idea of Lynnoria sleeping in her treehouse for a week. 

“If we return without it, she’ll be too weak to travel. She’ll lose the Tourney by default, and her house will suffer. Because of us. But, if we find wild haelmarrow, Lynnoria can use that and return in time to finish the competition.”

Catalina shook her head. “If we stay the Windweavers will lose anyhow. We don’t have magic like the others, not to mention that we don’t even know what we’re supposed to be doing.”

“Surviving,” said a voice behind them.

Catalina spun, pulling out Davious’ knife and brandishing it in what she hoped was a threatening manner. Sydney backed up, her eyes bouncing between the source of the voice and the blade. 

Good, Catalina thought, keep outside the blood circle. She’d learned how to handle a blade last summer in Trackers. Not that she planned on using it; but something tangled inside her, perhaps some latent Shadowsister bond, told her it was what Lynnoria would do. “Who’s there?” she demanded, peering into the shadowy undergrowth. 

A figure stepped from between the trees, palms out in a gesture of peace. It was the girl with lavender hair, the one who looked almost human. An emerald snake badge shimmered on her chest, its scales outlined in thin lines that matched the pale gold of her clothes. A cloak that seemed woven from cobwebs and shadows trailed from her shoulders. She gave Catalina a wide smile. “Put the blade away, Lynnoria, unless you plan on winning the Tourney through bloodshed.” She sounded amused.

“I… I’m not…” Catalina stammered. 

“We all know she admires you too much to slay you, Lura.” The fairy with copper curls, the one Catalina had thought looked like Sydney when she’d first seen her standing on the dais, slipped out from the shadows and leaned against a tree. Like Lura, she was dressed in shimmering gold, though without a cloak. The echo of magic radiated off of both of them. 

“Hmm,” Lura said, still grinning. “Perhaps, but we are competitors until the Tourney ends. And we all know Lynnoria’s mother wouldn’t mind if I accidentally found myself impaled on her daughter’s blade. So, what of it, are you going to use that knife to please your mother?” 

Catalina licked her lower lip, then slipped the blade back into her belt. “Anything I do is because I choose it, not because of what my mother wills,” the words tumbled from her lips and she fought to keep her voice from wavering.

Lura let out a chuckle. “Same old Lynnoria. It’s nice to know that you, at least, won’t stick a knife in my back. But what of your Second?” She eyed Sydney. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure?”

“Sydriel,” Sydney said, with a slight bow. “And you are?”

“Lura, of Havenhall. And my second, Maiele.”

Maiele shared Sydney’s red-gold hair and heart-shaped face, but that was where the resemblance ended. While Sydney was wide-eyed and curious, Maiele seemed hardened, her innocence buried beneath an iron carapace.

“Greetings cousin,” Sydney said to Maiele, a challenge in her voice. 

The other girl laughed scornfully. “I don’t know where the Windweavers found you, but you are not a Darrowblight.”

“I’m a Changeling.” Sydney said. “Fae by birth, raised on Earth. Brought back to act as Lynnoria’s second.” 

Catalina shut her eyes in dismay. I should have spun the stupid earring as soon as we landed in these woods. She’d been so worried about passing as Lynnoria, of doing and saying what she hoped her Shadowsister would do and say, that she never considered worrying about Sydney’s actions. 

“Did you hear that, Lura? Raised in the human lands. Perhaps you were neighbors,” Maiele grinned at her teammate.

“Leave off, Maiele,” Lura said, scowling. She turned to Catalina. “How did you end up with a Changling as your second? When we last spoke, you planned on bringing your cousin.”

Catalina paled. Lura and Lynnoria were friends. Again the fear of saying the wrong thing returned. She opened her mouth, but no words spilled free.

“Don’t tell me. It was your mother, grasping for power.” Lura shook her head in disgust.

“I tried to get out of it.” Catalina managed, holding in a sigh of relief.

“No wonder you wanted to fetch your brother.” Lura gave her a pitying look.

Maiele snorted. “I can’t believe your mom thought saddling you with an ignorant human Changling would give you an advantage, even with her drop of Darrowblight blood.” 

“I’m a Fae, not a human,” Sydney said, her voice as imperious as a queen’s. “But… I wasn’t taught anything about Starkhaven, or our customs. They didn’t tell me what to expect during this Tourney. Just undid the human glamor and dropped me off with the Windweavers.”

Catalina blinked, impressed. Sydney had explained her lack of knowledge without revealing their deception. She gave her friend a slight smile, feeling a pang of guilt that she’d ever doubted her.

A gust of wind picked up as a shadow passed overhead. As one, the four girls looked up. A large silver gray cloud blew across the sky and blotted out the sun.

“We’ve tarried long enough as it is.” Maiele murmured to Lura. “Evenar and Eventine are heading for high ground. If we want to cut them off we need to go now.”

Lura frowned at her Second, casting a pointed look in Catalina and Sydney’s direction. “As we discussed,we have yet to decide the best place to wait out the night and whatever horrors it will bring. However, you are correct.” She stepped back towards the thicket from where she’d emerged. “Lovely to see you again, Lynnoria, but we are in the middle of the Tourney, and House honor comes before friendship. And fill your Second in on the ways of the Fae, so she is less of a liability.” She turned, flashing them a grin over her shoulder. “Until we meet again.”

“Wait,” Sydney held out a hand. “One more thing. Does haelmarrow grow in these woods?”

Maiele narrowed her eyes. “Wounded already?”

Lura elbowed her friend, an action so human-like that for a moment Catalina almost forgot she was a fairy. “If it does, you will know it by its pale yellow leaves and white berries. Best of luck.” And with a last smile, she swirled her cloak over her shoulders and vanished. 

“You’ll need it,” Maiele added, as she wiggled her fingers in a complicated pattern—as if knitting or weaving the very air—and then she too was gone.

“Wow.” Catalina sank to the ground. Her hair had come loose and now draped around her in blue tangles. It was easy to forget that she wore Lynnoria’s skin; she’d grown used to the extra strength and stronger senses, but she didn’t think she’d ever grow used to seeing actual magic. “That was close.”

Sydney stared at the spot where the two fairies had just stood. “I don’t think they ever suspected we aren’t who we appear to be.”

For some reason that made Catalina feel even worse. “We need to go. Before someone figures out we’re not who we say we are.”

“Did you notice that Lura touched her snake badge and nothing happened?”

“What?”

“No shock, nothing.” Sydney tilted her head. “It could be safe to touch yours, now that the competition’s begun.”

Catalina’s fingers itched to reach for the golden owl, to test Sydney’s theory, but she balled her hand into a fist. “No time. We have to go home.”

Sydney took a step back, her eyes scanning the forest. “Let me search for the haelmarrow. If I can’t find it by sunset, you can spin the gem then.”

Catalina shook her head. “We can’t risk it. We need to leave. Now. Before something goes wrong and we’re discovered.” 

“You go. I want to stay here.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Use the gem. Return home and help Lynnoria. I’m staying here.”

Catalina stared at her friend, dumbfounded. “You can’t!”

“Why not?” Sydney hovered at the edge of a thick copse of trees. Catalina had a sudden horrible feeling that she was going to disappear into the shadows as surely as Lura had.

“Because you can’t!” It seemed so obvious to Catalina. They couldn’t remain here, in Starkhaven. No matter what the glamor did to their outward appearance, inside they were human. “If you stay, you might never get home again.” 

Sydney shrugged, her shoulders tense. “Why would I want to? I’ve never fit in there. Not really. My entire life I’ve dreamed of magic being real. And now I’m here, actually in Fairyland!” 

The certainty in Sydney’s voice chilled Catalina. This was no joke. No sudden whim.

“But what will you do? And what about your family?” Catalina said desperately, edging towards Sydney even as her friend slid deeper into the woods. And what about me? For new and fragile as their friendship was, Catalina relied on Sydney. Relished her strength and knowledge, so different from Catalina’s own.

“My parents don’t care about me. All they care about is themselves.” She shrugged. “And Lynnoria can help me. Or…  or I’ll join up with the other competitors. Lura seems nice. Maybe she’ll take me in.”

“And what happens when she discovers who you really are?” Catalina said. “What then?”

Sydney paused, a shadow of uncertainty passing across her face. “Perhaps my drop of Fae blood can be kindled,” She said. “There has to be a spell to make me more than human.”

Catalina stared at Sydney, too shocked to say anything more; Sydney wanted to stay here and become one of them. One of the Fae. And while a part of Catalina’s mind wrestled with the scientific potential of transforming one’s blood, and another part of her wondered why Sydney was so unhappy on Earth, the ruthless, tactical piece of her brain rose us, shouting: Now, go, go, go!

She lunged, wrapping one hand around her friend’s wrist, spinning the earring with the other. Breath tight in her chest, she waited for that dizzying first moment as the Shadowpath reached for her.

Only it didn’t come. 

She twisted the gem again, wrenching it hard enough that her ear barked in pain.

Nothing. 

Sydney yanked her arm free, staring at Catalina in shock. “Are you trying to kidnap me?”

“I’d hardly call taking you home kidnapping you,” Catalina bit out. Why hadn’t the spell worked? Had something happened to Lynnoria? She reached out, pulling at the Shadowsister bond, or whatever it was tangled inside her, but there was no answer. 

She tried again, spinning the earring as she grabbed for Sydney’s arm once again. Sydney sidestepped, dancing backwards out of Catalina’s reach.

No! I can’t leave without her.

But it didn’t matter, for though the gem spun within its setting, the world around Catalina remained stationary.

For a moment the two girls stared at one another, shock and anger mirrored in their eyes.

“It’s not working?” Sydney whispered.

“Clearly.” Catalina didn’t let the fear come. Not yet. There had to be a rational solution. Weren’t magic spells a kind of recipe? She just needed to figure out the missing ingredient. She pulled out the earring and stared down at it, mind racing. When Lynnoria had spelled the gem it had been for Catalina alone.

Sydney must have been thinking the same thing, for she whispered: “Try without me.”

“I’m not leaving you.” 

“That’s not your decision to make,” Sydney said, her voice hard and as immovable as a mountain. “It’s okay, Lina,” she said a moment later, her eyes softening. “Go. Help Lynnoria. Once she’s back, she’ll know how to send me home.”

The words ‘if I choose to return’ hovered unspoken between them.

With a quick nod and a small, sad smile, Catalina returned the earring to her ear and spun the gem.

Again, nothing happened.

Mutely, she looked to where Sydney stood in the shadows.

“We’ll figure it out, Lina. Lynnoria’s probably asleep or something.”

Catalina nodded, though she knew that wasn’t it.

The sky dimmed again. Catalina looked up, expecting to see more clouds, but instead a shifting darkness seethed overhead. It must be the Shadowpath! Catalina heaved a sigh of relief. The spell had worked after all.

Only this time the shadows didn’t reach for them. Instead, they slipped across the sky, blotting out the sun and casting the land into a preternatural twilight. 

“The Break of Day.” Sydney breathed as the sky grew darker. “It’s part of the challenge.” She turned to Catalina. “Lura and Maiele mentioned finding somewhere to wait it out. We should have done the same.”

Catalina pushed away her worry over the earring and looked around, willing her eyes to adjust to the dim light. “I guess since we’re stuck here, we better do the best we can until we figure out how to fix this.” She gave the earring a small tap and grimaced. “Do you remember what the island looks like? From the map?”

Sydney nodded.

“Great.” Catalina hunted around on the ground until she found a straight stick. With her booted foot, she kicked away the stones and leaves, making a smooth patch in the dirt. “Draw it.”

The sketch was rough, but Catalina smiled as Sydney pointed out a few key features: the beach, a river, the forest, and the slight rise in the center. 

“The beach is too exposed. I’d say either the woods near the river’s mouth, or the highest part of the island, would be best. The question is, are they already claimed by one of the other teams?” 

“What if we seek them out,” Sydney said. “If we join up with one of the other teams, we’ll have a better chance at surviving without magic.”

“We can’t risk it. And anyhow, we don’t know where they went.”

“Maiele mentioned something about seeking high ground.” Sydney tapped the center of the map.

“There’s another choice,” Catalina said. “We could climb the trees. Here,” she pointed to the dirt map, “is the densest part of the woods, and it’s close by. We could haul ourselves up and lash the branches together. We’d be safe and practically invisible.”

Sydney tugged on her hair. “I’m not great with heights. Maybe we should pick somewhere easier. Like near the river?”

Results: Where should they seek shelter?
The High Ground 50%
The Tree Canopy 33%
The River 17%
The Beach 0%

Chapter Ten: Nimbostratus

Catalina and Sydney sped through the undergrowth towards the high ground at the center of the island. The clouds roiled overhead, reminding Catalina of the Shadowpath, with their shifting shades of gray. But also of something else. Something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. 

Sydney fumbled along behind her, breathing hard as the land sloped upwards. They had to cover a lot of ground, if Catalina’s reckoning was correct, and the faster they did, the more time they’d have to prepare for whatever the Tourney had in store. So she set a steady pace, her adrenaline kicking in as she tried to ignore the panic mounting at the back of her throat. 

She was stuck here. Stuck in a fantasy land that she still didn’t quite believe existed. Stuck in someone else’s skin, with no way to get home. She’d tried the earring again and again, spinning the gem while she ran. But it was no use. Why wasn’t it working? Had Lynnoria only pretended to place a spell on the gem? Was it all some kind of elaborate joke? 

I suppose it’s possible, she thought doubtfully, but to what end? 

She tried to look at the problem logically. The simplest explanation was that none of this was real. That she was actually home in bed, dreaming. Like Alice, in Alice in Wonderland. 

Or Catalina in Starkhaven. 

She grinned, smiling like the Cheshire Cat, then sighed. If it was a dream, it was an extremely realistic one. No, it had to be something else.

If only I knew more about magic. 

With a sinking feeling, she realized that the most likely answer had to do with the Tourney itself. Perhaps there was some kind of spell placed over the island, or the contestants, to keep them from leaving before the Tourney ended. The thought didn’t sit well; she wanted to go home, not fumble her way through a competition she had no hopes of winning. She spun the gem again, resolving to keep trying until she figured out how to fix it.

“Are we almost there?” Sydney gasped out from behind her.

“I think so.” In fact, Catalina had no idea how much further it was. She wasn’t even entirely sure they were headed in the right direction. She staggered to a halt and looked up, peering through the branches at the darkening sky. If she could get a glimpse of the sun—determine its position—then she’d be more confident of their route. But the sun was hidden, the sky heavy with ominous clouds. As she stared at the clouds, straining for a glimpse of the sun, she suddenly realized the thought that had eluded her earlier. “Oh no!” she gasped.

“What?” Sydney said, pushing tangled hair from her eyes.

“Those are nimbostratus.” Catalina pointed at the clouds overhead.

“Nimbowhat?”

“Nimbostratus. It’s a type of storm cloud. And they’re growing denser, meaning rain is coming. A lot of rain. And snow, if the temperature gets cold enough.” As the words left Catalina’s mouth, a wind rushed between the trees, making the hairs on her arms stand on end. “And lightning,” she added. 

Sydney’s eyes were wide as she stared at Catalina. “Lightning? What are we going to do?”

Catalina resisted the urge to spin the earring, sure that it wouldn’t work, and equally sure that she wasn’t going to leave Sydney alone in the midst of a storm. She glanced up at the sky again.

“Let’s stick to our original plan and head to the high ground. We should also be on the lookout for a cave, or overhanging rock. Anything that will protect us if it gets too stormy.”

Sydney nodded. “If only you’d gotten a bit of Lynnoria’s magic when she glamoured you.”

“What? Why?” 

“She’s a Windweaver,” Sydney said with a rueful grin. “I bet she could manage a hurricane in her sleep.”

Catalina frowned. “Hopefully one of the other contestants can do something about the clouds. Before the weather gets too rough.” 

And with that grim thought the girls set off again, this time in hopes of outracing a storm.

As they neared the top of the rise, a light rain began to fall, plastering their hair and clothes to their skin. The ground grew muddy and slick, slowing their steps. Catalina grasped a branch, heaving herself up the last bit of hill only to find herself teetering on the edge of a deep ravine, a swiftly moving river coursing along below. On the other side, a stone’s throw away, yet too far to leap, lay a wide grassy clearing, an outcropping of stones rising up in the center.

Sydney joined her, panting. She opened her mouth, but Catalina put a hand on her arm before she could speak. 

“Look,” she whispered, pointing to the figures on the far side of the ravine.

Lura, her purple hair dark with drizzle, stood besides Maiele, who wove her hands together in a complicated pattern, gold netting spilling from her fingertips like Spiderman’s web. Tangled in the netting were two of the other contestants, their skin flashing with iridescent scales, eyes glowing blue in the dim light.

“…here first,” one of the scaled boys was saying to Maiele. 

“And yet you will be the ones to leave,” she replied, jerking on the net. Lura placed a hand on her Second’s arm, and Maiele stopped the tugging, her mouth twisting in a grimace.

“Why? Because you are High-Fae and we should bow to your superiority? I think not.” The boy slashed at the net with sharp fingernails and it fell in tatters at his feet. “Isn’t the whole point of this contest to prove that skill is not based on rank?” He took a step forward and bared his teeth. “You best find shelter elsewhere. My brother and I lay claim to this hillock.”

The sky lit up as lightning flashed in the distance. Catalina began counting automatically, reaching six before the loud boom of thunder rang out, drowning out whatever Maiele said in response. The rain fell harder, slapping against the ground in torrents. The fairies on the far side of the gully continued to argue, but their words were drowned out by the sound of the storm. 

“Now what?” Catalina said, half-yelling into Sydney’s ear. The high ground no longer seemed like a smart place to wait out the storm—and whatever else the Tourney might bring.

“We should join them,” Sydney said, squinting through the rain at the fairies beyond. “Perhaps with all of us working together we can figure out a decent shelter.” 

“Seriously? And what happens when they realize I’m not Lynnoria? I know you want to stay here forever, but I still plan on leaving and I’d rather no one find out we’re human in the meantime.”

Sydney shrugged. “We’ll make something up. Say you hit your head and can’t focus well enough to do magic. It’ll be fine. Unless you have a better idea?”

Catalina stared at her, wracking her brain for another plan. But they had passed no caves or rocky outcrops. Just trees. Trees and shrubs, and now this narrow gully, which provided no more shelter than the woods.

“It’s too dangerous,” she insisted. “Besides, they aren’t working together. What makes you think they’ll change their minds when we show up?”

“Leave that to me.” Sydney pointed to a fallen tree a few meters away that spanned the gully, creating a kind of bridge to the other side. “We can cross there. I’ll go first. I’m lighter, so if it won’t hold me, then we’ll look for another way across.”

Or turn back, Catalina thought. She didn’t know where Sydney’s newfound bravery had come from, but she had to admit she liked this new determined side of her friend more than the uncertain girl that had followed her around back home.

“Fine.” She gave Sydney a begrudging nod.

Sydney clambered onto the log, crouching low as she tested its stability. After a moment, she took a few tentative steps. Then a few more. When nothing happened she continued walking until she reached the middle, where she stopped to toss Catalina a grim smile, gesturing for her to follow.

Catalina hoisted herself up onto the makeshift bridge, struggling to find her balance. Another bolt of lightning pierced the sky, illuminating Sydney as she balanced precariously above the long drop to the water below. Thunder followed swiftly, roaring through the air. Catalina pressed her hands to her ears to block out the noise. Her foot slipped on the wet log and with a startled cry, she tumbled off, landing hard on the dirt, her body inches from the edge of the ravine and the muddy water that roiled below. She scrambled backwards, hands slipping in the mud as she struggled to push herself onto solid ground. 

She clutched her side, fighting back tears. “I’m fine,” she called out, looking up at the log. But Sydney wasn’t there.

Catalina bolted to her feet, scanning for any sign of her friend. Had she made it to the far side? She staggered to the log and hoisted herself up, peering through the curtain of rain.

There! Sydney hung from the side of the log, one hand wrapped around a narrow branch, her fingers white with strain.

“Hold on!” Catalina shouted, not sure if Sydney heard her above the storm. She slid forward, hugging the log as she shimmied across the wet wood, struggling to maintain her grip.

“I’m coming. Just another minute,” she cried out, pushing herself closer. Sydney dangled from a small branch that jutted out on the right side of the log. If Catalina could make it to her in time, she should be able to reach down and grasp Sydney, pulling her to safety. And hopefully maintain her own balance in the process. She swallowed, sliding forward the last few inches and reaching her hand out.

Sydney stared at Catalina, her eyes wide and pleading. She let go of the branch with one hand, straining upwards. But just as her fingertips grazed Catalina’s hand, the small branch cracked.

“No!” The word ripped from Catalina’s throat as Sydney fell through the air, landing in the turbid water with a splash. For long minutes Catalina scanned the river’s surface, tears sliding down her cheeks only to be washed away, like her hope, by the pounding rain. 

Then finally, finally, a glimmer of red broke through the water and Sydney’s head surfaced, her mouth opening wide as she gasped for breath.

Catalina’s entire body sagged. But her relief turned to fear as she saw her friend struggling to stay afloat, the swift current pulling her downstream and out of sight. 

Results: What should she do? She had to decide fast.
Cross and try to fish Sydney out from the riverbank? 83%
Cross and ask the other contestants for help? 17%
Jump in after Sydney? 0%
Spin the earring and hope it works this time? 0%

Chapter Eleven: Ladders

Catalina stared as the glimmer of red hair disappeared around the river’s bend. For an instant she considered leaping from the log, hurling herself into the water, swimming downstream and pulling Sydney out before she drowned. But Catalina wasn’t sure she could swim that fast. Not in these conditions. No, she’d have to make her way along the shore, hoping that Sydney stayed afloat until Catalina reached her. 

Another bolt of lightning flashed through the sky. She tore her gaze from the water and began shimmying across the log, heading for the far side of the gorge. Thunder rumbled after only a few seconds—the lightning was almost on top of them. Something she’d read about the danger of swimming during a thunderstorm tickled the back of Catalina’s mind, and she choked back a spasm of fear. 

Keep it together, she told herself. Save Sydney. Then find a place to hide from the storm. 

She slid from the log, landing hard on the muddy ground. Biting her lip, she scanned the cliff, looking for a way down. All she saw was the steep cliff, and the raging water beneath. She’d have to find another path. 

She ran, slipping in the mud, one eye on the treacherous ground in front of her, the other searching for Sydney. An outcropping of rocks jutted up, blocking her view of the river. She clambered up the rocks, until the river was in sight once more, winding like a snake towards the distant sea. And there, so far downstream that she was little more than a speck of copper, floated Sydney.

Even if Catalina flung herself into the water she’d never reach her. She needed to get ahead of her. Somehow. Catalina surveyed the land, noting how the river wound into a dense copse of trees, emerging on the far side of the clearing where she’d watched Lura and the other Fae argue. If she made it across the clearing quickly enough, maybe, just maybe, she’d reach the far section of the river before Sydney did.

With a deep breath, she climbed back down to the forest floor and put on a burst of speed, leaping over fallen branches, clusters of tangled vines, scattered rocks—everything and anything that stood in her way. She felt her Fae body giving her a strength and speed her human legs could never attain, and for the first time she wished that she had Lynnoria’s wind power as well. She’d lift herself up in a magical gust of air, floating down beside Sydney like an elven Mary Poppins. She grinned and ran faster.

In the center of the clearing, Lura and the other Fae stopped arguing to watch as she pelted past. She considered stopping, calling out for help, but she wasn’t sure they’d listen. Besides, it would just slow her down.

After hurtling over more rocks, she skittered to a stop as the grass fell away at the edge of the gully. She crept forward, peering down at the water far below. Great, another cliff. The sides of the chasm were steep and slick with rain, impossible to climb. Rocks jutted up from below the river, causing it to froth and surge as it continued its mad dash downstream. A fallen tree lay wedged against the wall halfway down the cliff, its branches plunging into the water. 

She peered back upstream. Though the clouds darkened the sky, her enhanced eyesight helped her spot Sydney, clinging to the log, her bright hair streaming around her like fire. She’d pass by in just a few minutes. Catalina had to make it down to the water’s edge and pull Sydney ashore before she floated out of reach. But how would she get down? She couldn’t climb. Not without a rope or ladder; it was just too steep. She’d jump, but she didn’t know how deep the water was, and besides, there was a good chance she’d end up splattered on the rocks instead.

Another flash of lightening lit the sky, turning the river into a ribbon of silver. There was nothing for it. She had to jump. Unless… She considered the fallen tree. If she made her way to the log, she might be able to climb from branch to branch until she reached the water’s edge. But although the tree lay against her side of the gorge, it stopped about eight feet below where she stood, peering down. To reach it, she’d first have to jump, catching at the log as she fell. Only then could she climb down, using the branches like a ladder.

An image of her treehouse ladder popped into her mind, and she remembered gripping the bars as her shadow disappeared. How long ago that felt. Had it only been the day before? If I’d known what would happen, I’d never have gone into the treehouse, she thought, staring down at the water. 

Only that wasn’t true, not really. Sure, she wasn’t happy about being stuck here in Starkhaven, but she had to admit it was exciting. A lot more interesting than hanging out in her backyard by herself. And if it hadn’t been for this adventure, she might never had become friends with Sydney. 

And friends didn’t let anything bad happen to one another. Not without a fight. She needed to reach the stream bed before Sydney floated past.

She tossed a glance over her shoulder, towards the center of the clearing where the Fae stood. They’d gone back to arguing, not paying any attention to her whatsoever. Perhaps she should run back and appeal to them for help. But even if they agreed to help, Sydney would have floated past in the meantime and they’d have to make their way further downstream, and quickly, to catch her.

Results: Now What? Should Catalina:
Climb down the tree like a ladder? 100%
Run back to ask for help? 0%
Jump into the water below? 0%

Chapter Twelve: Lightning Strikes

Catalina inhaled, crossed her fingers and took a running leap off the edge of the gorge. She fought the urge to close her eyes, watching instead as the rock wall rushed past. Her heart seemed to rise, lodging in her throat as the wind whipped her hair around her head. She looked down just as the top of the tree sailed by. Lashing her arm out, she caught at the uppermost branch, clinging to it for dear life. Her feet scraped against the bark as she searched for another branch to brace her, lest she lose her grip and plummet into the water below.

So far so good, she thought, her stomach churning like the river beneath her. She looked away, focusing on her hands as she quickly scaled down the sloping tree. It was like climbing a ladder, sort of, except instead of evenly spaced rungs, the branches jutted out in all directions. Soon she stood on the last branch, hovering several feet above an outcropping of rocks that led, like oversized steppingstones, across the river. 

Okay, Catalina thought, now if I can just make it to the stones…

She edged as far out on the branch as she dared, and then, with another deep breath, she tossed herself away from the tree towards the largest of the boulders. 

She landed hard, hands scraping as she fought for purchase on the jagged rock. Both sharp and slippery with moss, the stone was just large enough to cling to without getting wet. Or wetter, as the rain had already drenched her from head to toe. She shifted her weight, repositioning herself so she’d be able to fish Sydney from the water without falling in herself.

The sky split open once more, sending thundering flashes of light and more torrents of rain down upon her. A nearby tree caught the lightning in its branches, bursting into flame. Catalina ignored it, hoping the deluge would douse the flames before she had a forest fire to deal with on top of rescuing her friend and finding a way home.

She wiped water from her face and peered upstream. The rain made everything blurry, like she was looking through smudged glass. She blinked, trying to spot the telltale red hair bobbing along. 

There! Sydney still clung to her branch, the current propelling her towards the outcropping of rocks where Catalina lay in wait. Eyes closed, only Sydney’s face and arms were visible above the water. 

“Sydney,” Catalina called out, and a surge of relief washed over her as Sydney’s eyes flew open. “I’m going to grab onto you as you pass,” she yelled. “See if you can angle yourself towards me.” 

Sydney gave a small nod, her brow furrowing in concentration. Catalina had never seen her friend look so tired, so pale. She waited, arms tense, as Sydney floated closer and closer. 

Steady, Catalina thought. Focus. You only get one chance at this.

She reached out, stretching until her arms ached with the effort. The branch twisted, spinning Sydney around as the current eddied among the rocks. Sydney let go of the stick with one hand and flung her body towards Catalina. Their fingers touched, twisting together. Catalina wriggled out over the water, trying to get a stronger grip on Sydney’s hand as the river churned, tugging at the branch and yanking Sydney past the stone where Catalina perched. She spun, holding on to Sydney with all the strength she could funnel into her fingertips.

Another bolt of lightning lit the sky, illuminating Sydney’s wide eyes. A deafening roar followed—thunder, and something more. Something deeper than the thunder, stronger than the storm. A mighty crash from behind Catalina that shook the very ground, causing water to dance into the air in sprays of white foam. She wanted to look back, to look over her shoulder and see what on earth could cause such a terrifying sound. But she didn’t dare. If she lost her grip on Sydney…

She ignored it, yelling at Sydney to let go of the log.

But Sydney wasn’t looking at Catalina. She stared past her, upstream, eyes wide with terror. 

“Behind you,” Sydney gasped, just as her fingers slipped from Catalina’s grasp.

“No!” Catalina cried out, as Sydney bobbed out of reach. She lunged forward, and a wall of water crashed into her from behind.

Sydney’s fingers slipped from Catalina’s moments before the tidal wave of brown water and debris rounded the river bend and engulfed them, nearly ripping the branch away as it tumbled her beneath the surface. It took all her strength to cling to the stick, holding her breath until it seemed her lungs would burst. The branch pulled her upwards, and she sucked in a gulp of air as she surfaced, before another torrent of water dragged her under once more. After what seemed like ages, the water quieted and she drifted, half-drowned, towards the river’s edge.

With a few feeble kicks, Sydney made it to an outcropping of rocks that broke the water’s surface. Her arms, numb from the cold water and from clutching the branch for so long, strained as she pulled herself up, clinging to the rocks and the tangled branches that had caught against them. She worked her way along the makeshift bridge, keeping her footing until she finally collapsed in a wet heap on the grassy shore. 

The rain had quieted to a gentle drizzle. She let her eyes fall shut. Exhaustion dragged at her, and she nearly gave in, but something tugged at the corner of her mind, urging her back to wakefulness.

Catalina! What had happened to Catalina?

Wearily, she pushed herself upright, turning her gaze to the water below. Could Catalina have survived the wave without a log to keep her afloat? Sydney hoped so, but her eyes pricked with tears as she searched the nearby shore, finding no sign of her friend.

She’s alive, she has to be, Sydney told herself. She forced her tired limbs to climb to the top of a fallen log and scanned her surroundings, the hope in her chest fading as she studied the clumps of branches and silt the wave had left in its wake. 

But just when she’d nearly given up, she spotted a bit of blue and gold glimmering in the otherwise gray and brown landscape. 

She grit her teeth, ignoring her protesting muscles, and climbed down from the log to hurry along the debris-strewn bank, dropping to the ground alongside her bedraggled friend.

Catalina lay still, eyes closed, tangled among a scattering of small branches, her skin pale, her blue hair wrapped around her like seaweed. 

“Hey,” Sydney said, pushing a strand from her face. “Wake up.”

Catalina didn’t move.

“Come on, Catalina, wake up!” Sydney shook her gently. But she lay limp, her limbs blue with cold.

Licking her lips, Sydney peered closer, searching for any sign of life. “Lina, please,” she whispered, staring into her friend’s lifeless face. “I can’t do this without you.”

That’s what she should have told Catalina before, she realized, back when they argued about staying in Starkhaven. She should have said that, as much as she wanted to remain here, she didn’t want to stay by herself. That without Catalina, being the only human in a world of magic would be… lonely. 

“Lina,” she whispered and pressed her finger to Catalina’s neck, searching for a pulse. 

Nothing.

She held back a spasm of fear. Catalina couldn’t be dead. She just couldn’t be. Sydney wouldn’t allow it. 

Rolling Catalina over so she lay on her back, Sydney placed her hands on her friend’s chest, wishing she knew CPR. She’d seen it done on TV. You just pushed down a few times, then breathed into their mouth, right? How hard could it be? 

She hesitated, knowing that without the proper training she would end up doing it wrong. But they were stuck on another world, far from a hospital, caught in the middle of a magical storm. And Catalina wasn’t breathing. 

How much more wrong could it get?

“Don’t die on me,” Sydney pleaded as she pressed down lightly, trying to expel the water from Catalina’s lungs. 

 And then a strange feeling washed over Sydney. A feeling of light and hope and a warm glow of power. She gasped and a spark of heat and light lept from her hands, glowing for a moment against Catalina’s pale face before disappearing into her chest. Catalina gasped, water spewing from her mouth.

Sydney rolled her over, pounding on her back as Catalina continued to cough up what must be half the river.

The fear dissipated, leaving Sydney with an overwhelming sense of relief. Relief—and confusion. Where had that light come from? It glowed with such a beautiful gleam of gold, bright and warm in the cold wet air. It reminded her of the glow that wrapped around Catalina when Lynnoria had glamoured her. And Sydney swore she had felt something—almost as if a small piece of her own essence had flown from her skin into Catalina, jump-starting her breathing.

It’s what I always imagined magic would feel like, she thought in wonder. Only, I’m human. So there’s no way it could be magic. Could it? 

Perhaps it was a remnant of Lynnoria’s glamor, working to keep Catalina alive. Except Sydney had felt it within her—felt it come to life in her belly and travel from her into Catalina.

More water spewed from Catalina’s lips. After a moment, her coughing subsided, and she pushed herself up, wiping hair from her face with one shaking hand. “What happened?” The words were a mere whisper, her voice low and rough.

Sydney described the tidal wave and how the water had carried them both away. She left out the spark of light, not ready to think too hard about that moment, or the tingle that still lingered in her fingertips. And her heart.

“So now what?” Catalina asked.

Sydney opened her mouth to respond and realized she had no idea what they should do next. 

“Maybe it’s time to go home,” she said, hating the words even as they slipped from her lips. But Catalina had almost died, and Sydney wasn’t willing to let her own desires lead to injury, let alone death, for anyone else.

But Catalina shook her head. “I don’t think we can. Possibly there’s some kind of spell protecting the island, keeping us from leaving. Or maybe the earring broke somehow.” She sounded hesitant. “We have to find a way to survive until we figure out what’s wrong with the gem.”

“So, we need somewhere safe to hide from the storm, a base, like we talked about before?”

Catalina nodded. “And maybe we should try to join up with the other competitors. It might be our best chance at survival.” She hesitated, her eyes flickering with unease before continuing, “If they made it through the storm unscathed.”

Sydney swallowed. She hoped the other’s were okay. They must be—they had magic to protect themselves. 

Like me, said a small voice deep in her head. She pushed it away. Wanting something badly enough didn’t make it true. Likely she’d just imagined the feeling as the strength of Lynnoria’s magic kept Catalina from dying. No, she needed to forget about that moment and focus on getting home. Even if the thought made her stomach twist with sorrow.

Results: What should they do now?

Chapter Thirteen: Lura

But surely Sydney and I can help in other ways, she thought. It’s not like magic is the only tool needed for survival. 

Although perhaps in Starkhaven, where magic seemed to flow through the very air, it was. 

She sighed. She didn’t doubt her survival skills, at least she hadn’t back on Earth. Her summers spent at forest camp—learning how to forage for food, build a fire, construct a shelter—had seemed so useful. Unless all you had to do was wave a hand and let your magic do the work. Not that she’d seen that much actual magic use since being here, other than the Shadowpaths, and that bit when the competition announcer Mortov Swaenrite had made the giant map appear. Maybe the citizens of Starkhaven didn’t use that much magic. Maybe they saved it for special occasions, or really big things. Or perhaps they used it all the time, and she just wasn’t looking hard enough. She wished she could ask someone, but disguised as Lynnoria, she was supposed to know all the answers.

“Almost there,” she gasped over her shoulder to where Sydney pulled herself over an outcropping of tumbled stones. Traveling through the forest was harder now; the rocks were slick from the rain and fallen branches littered the paths. Not to mention how winded she felt after nearly drowning. A deep wetness had settled into her lungs, making every inhalation feel like she was breathing swamp water. 

“Look,” Sydney said, pointing through the trees. “They’re still there.”

Indeed, Lura and Maiele stood in the clearing, working together to lift a large branch. They seemed fine, as if the storm hadn’t affected them much at all.

Catalina slowed. Now that they’d arrived, she had no idea what to do next. 

Sydney slowed as well, her face pensive. She’d been acting differently ever since they’d arrived on this island. And even more so since the tidal wave. Catalina cast her a sidelong glance. She was doing it again: staring uneasily at her fingers, as if they belonged to someone else. She gave a small shake of her head and rubbed her hands against her shirt before lifting her chin.

“Here goes,” Sydney said beneath her breath, and plastered a bright smile on her face. “Lina, let me do the talking.”

Catalina opened her mouth to disagree, but Sydney had already darted ahead, bounding from the woods into the clearing. The two Fae looked up, their faces curious but not surprised. 

They heard us coming, Catalina thought ruefully. She’d learned how to walk through the woods without making a sound, but her soaking wet boots and tired legs made it too daunting to even try. Besides, Lura and Maiele’s supernatural hearing could likely hear a stick crack from over a mile away. She heaved a sigh and followed Sydney over a tangle of fallen branches and into the clearing, wishing, not for the first time, that she was back home, curled up in her treehouse, studying the data she’d recorded using her weather station.

Lura raised a hand in greeting, and Sydney began speaking, too quietly for Catalina to hear. But shouldn’t I be able to hear her, she wondered? I have Lynnoria’s speed and strength. Why not her hearing as well? Another thing to add to the list of magical attributes she planned to study. If she ever got the chance.

She stepped up alongside Sydney, smiling shyly at Lura, who gave her a friendly nod. They stood near a pile of sticks that looked to be the start of a poorly designed shelter. Well, it appears magic isn’t good for everything, Catalina thought, a small smile forming on her lips. Perhaps, if Lura and Maiele went along with whatever Sydney was proposing, Catalina’s survival skills would be useful after all.  

“So what do you think?” Sydney asked, looking between the two Fae.

Maiele, holding one end of a vine in her thin fingers, shook her head, murmuring something about losing. Lura glanced up at her friend before saying, “What’s in it for us?”

“Well,” said Sydney. “Whoever survives the night wins the competition, right?” 

Lura nodded. “Whichever team lasts longest—without running out of magic.”

Catalina’s eyes widened. If that was true, then why weren’t she and Sydney already disqualified?

“Don’t forget the riddle. If a team solves it, they win first place, no matter how long the other teams survive,” Maiele added. 

“What riddle?” Sydney asked.

“The one Mortov recited. During the Choosing.” Maiele waved a hand dismissively.

Lura nodded. “This year it was something about the ‘break of dawn.’ Do you remember? But no one ever solves it, it’s just there so the competition appears fair.”

“Whoever survives longest, wins,” Sydney mused. “Unless someone else solves an impossible riddle?”

Lura nodded. 

“So, wouldn’t it make sense to work together, pool our… resources, help one another stay in the competition as long as possible?” Sydney’s face broke into an encouraging smile.

“We’re not supposed to team up,” Maiele said flatly. 

“Is that in the rules?”

“No,” Maiele admitted, tossing her reddish curls. “But it’s implied. No one ever does.”

“Each team wants to win. Prove they’re the best. Teaming up implies that you aren’t strong enough to win alone,” explained Lura. 

“Exactly,” Maiele said. “Come on, Lura. We can’t trust them. We don’t even know her.” She nodded towards Sydney. “And Lynnoria, no offense, but I just don’t trust you to go against your family.”

“Maiele, wait just a moment.” Lura put a long slim hand on her friend’s arm. “I want to hear them out.”

“Well,” said Sydney, her words pouring out in a tumble. “If we work together than we have a better chance of surviving for longer. It benefits us, of course—I’m little use to Lina… I mean, Lynnoria.” She swallowed and cast a wide-eyed glance at Catalina before continuing. “Growing up in the human world hasn’t really prepared me to compete against fairies that have used their magic from birth. But you could benefit as well. With the four of us working together, we’ll have a better chance of winning. I mean, check out your shelter. It’ll fall apart in the next strong wind. You really think you’ll win first place on your own?”

Maiele looked at the pile of sticks she’d been tying together and scowled. “We’re good.” She turned away.

“Maiele, I said wait.” Lura cocked her head and looked hard at Sydney. “High Fae families don’t usually ‘team up’ with Elementals. Sorry, I mean True Fae.” She glanced at Catalina. “Lynnoria, didn’t you tell her anything about what’s been going on lately? With the Council, and the protests?”

Catalina shook her head. “I haven’t had time,” she said, hoping Lura would believe the excuse.

“Fair enough—even one lifetime isn’t long enough to explain all the ins and outs of Starkhaven politics.” Lura rolled her eyes, then turned back to Sydney. “But here’s the gist: The High Fae—that’s the group of Fae with Shadow magic, like me and Maiele—they gained power long ago, when the Shadowpaths were formed. They’ve dominated ever since. Over time, they’ve cast the rest of the Fae—the Elementals who control elements like flame, or water. Or wind, like Lynnoria’s family—into servitude.” She grimaced. “Even the Tourney favors the High Fae. Everything from choice of Perk,” she tapped the snake badge on her chest, “to island choice, is determined based on your house.” 

“ Lynnoria controls the wind. So that makes her an Elemental?” Sydney asked, her face scrunched up in confusion. 

Lura nodded. “Lynnoria and her family are weather nymphs, not High Fae, so her rank improves with you, a Shapecaster—one of the High Fae—as her Second.”  Lura confirmed.

“And what about you?” Sydney asked. “You say you’re High Fae, but you look more human than anything—except for the lavender hair. Even your ears aren’t as sharp as Lynnoria’s.”

Lura fingered her ear ruefully. “My father is High Fae, but my mother was human. I’m reviled by nearly everyone, other than Maiele here.” She cast her friend a warm smile. “The High Fae scorn my father for having a human mate. As for the Elementals—they just see me as another High Fae.” Lura kicked at the ground, her face darkening. Maiele reached out and gave Lura’s hand a squeeze of reassurance.

“So who are the True Fae?” asked Sydney.

“A few years ago,” explained Maiele, “a group of Elementals began speaking out against the Council, calling themselves the True Fae. They claimed, rightly if you ask me, that the High Fae were getting too powerful. They wanted to get rid of the Council and hold elections. All across Starkhaven others rose to join them, protesting the privileges granted to those with Shadow magic.”

“But the Council didn’t dare allow voting, as there are very few High Fae compared to the number of Elementals,” Lura added.

Catalina tried to make sense of what Lura and Maiele were saying. It reminded her of the injustices on Earth; of people being treated unfairly because of things like the color of their skin, or who they loved. Only here, instead of race, gender, or wealth, it was the type of magic you controlled that determined your place in society. 

She shook her head. And even if the only way to travel between islands was by Shadowpath, that didn’t make the ability to control them any more important than mastery of the wind, or fire, or the tides. It’s sad, she thought, that even here, on another world, people fight to put themselves above others, instead of trying to work together so everyone can find a measure of happiness.

“So stop the protests, the Council decided to hold a Tourney, testing the children of any who wished to enter. The winning families would lead the Council, and thereby, the land.” Maiele continued. “At least, that was the idea.”

“But, if your house is High Fae,” Sydney said, “Then why would you even consider working with us?”

“We’re not,” said Maiele, then added, “What?” as Lura glared at her. 

“I’m considering it,” Lura said, a scowl passing across her face. “Not all High Fae believe that we should rule just because of the family we’re born into.” She curled her hand into a fist. “Some of us, like my father and I, side with the Elementals. Starkhaven needs to become a place where all Fae have equal rights, no matter what magic, or how much, lurks beneath their skin.” 

Maiele broke in, saying, “Lura’s father is one of the few decent Council members. It was his idea to start the Tourney, thinking it might be a fair way to appease both the True Fae and the Council. Or at least a step in the right direction. But the other Council members twisted it, making it all but impossible for the Elementals to win.”

“How?” Sydney asked. 

Catalina watched as Lura leaned in, explaining how those with Elemental magic became drained when traveling the Shadowpaths, as opposed to the High Fae, whose ability to control the shadows meant they arrived on the islands with all of their magic intact. Catalina wished she could ask some questions, but this was all stuff Lynnoria would know. If she spoke up, Lura would quickly realize that something was off, and they’d be less likely to trust her.

“So the High Fae arrive with a greater amount of magic to tap into,” said Maiele. “And as Lura said earlier, once you are out of magic, you are out of the Tourney. Plus, the bindings placed on the islands drains Elemental magic more quickly as well.”

Bindings? Was that why Lynnoria’s earring wasn’t working? She started, realizing that she hadn’t checked it after her swim in the river. Her hand flicked to her ear, relief flooding her as she felt the gem dangling there.

“It’s stupid, really.” Maiele was saying. “What’s the point of winning if when you’ve been given such an unfair advantage? Only a fool would think coming in first means anything when you’ve basically cheated your way to the finish line.”

“Fools like Elkis Magwallow, for one,” spat Lura.  

“Magwallow, that’s the house Davious mentioned. And, Elkis, is he a competitor?” Sydney asked, her voice rising with excitement. “Do you remember what your brother Davious said, Lynnoria? About how he sullied the name of your house?”

Catalina nodded, fingering the dagger Davious had loaned her, grateful it too survived her swim. 

“Oh, Elkis, he’s the worst.” Maiele shook her head. “But quite powerful. As is his family. He’s all but guaranteed to be one of the winners. I’d do anything to see him taken down a notch.”

“So team up with us,” Sydney urged. “If we pool our resources, we may figure out how to outlast them.”

“That might just work,” Lura said, her voice thoughtful. “But… to be really effective, we’d need Evenar and Eventine to join us as well. They’re the other competitors on this isle. They’re Elementals—True Fae. Evenar wields the power of ice, and Eventine the power of stone. Not terribly helpful in a heavily forested isle such as this. I’m sure they were hoping to get Vocranic as their isle. There’s ice on the rocky mountain peaks there most of the year,” she explained. “Anyhow,  if we could draw on all six of our unique powers, and pool our magic usage,  we might be able to withstand anything the Tourney throws our way.” She turned to Maiele. “What do you think?”

“It could work,” Maiele said begrudgingly. “But Evenar and Eventine won’t listen to either of us. It has to be Lynnoria, another True Fae, who approaches them.” She turned towards Catalina and raised an eyebrow. “What do you think Lynnoria, can you convince them to join us? It won’t be easy.”

“I can try,” Catalina said, her heart sinking. If they all teamed up, her lack of magic would be obvious. How could she go on pretending to be Lynnoria without wind magic to rely on? They’d be kicked out of the alliance before it even begun. And then not only would she fail Lynnoria, and her house, she’d fail Sydney as well. For she saw the eager light in Sydney’s eyes. She wanted to win. To prove herself to these strange creatures. To prove that she belonged here with them, even if there was only the smallest drop of fairy blood in her veins.

“Great, the last I saw, they ran that way, towards the beach.” Maiele pointed towards a narrow path leading downhill. “Why don’t you go after them and we’ll stay here and work on repairing this shelter?”

“Wait, go alone?” Catalina was counting on Sydney joining her. She’d gotten so used to having her by her side. She wasn’t sure she could do it alone. Or even wanted to. 

“You’ll be fine,” Lura said, giving Catalina an encouraging smile. “Just try not to use up too much of your magic on the way. It won’t recharge over time, like it does normally.” She wrinkled her nose. “But you know that. Look, I don’t know how well you know either of them, but Eventine is especially prickly. Of the two of them, Evenar is more likely to listen.” She reached forward, wrapping Catalina in a quick hug. “Good luck. If you need help, send a gust of wind and I’ll come for you.”

I guess I better not need anything, Catalina thought, her heart sinking. She looked to Sydney, hoping she’d offer to come along, but she’d walked away, deep in conversation with Maiele. “And maybe you can teach me a thing or two about accessing my Shapecasting ability,” she was saying. “I never learned. Honestly, I don’t even know how much I possess, if any.”

“Well, you must have some. Otherwise you wouldn’t be here,” Maiele said, grudgingly. “I suppose I could try. After we get a basic shelter in place.”

Catalina watched as Sydney and Maiele ducked away, talking animatedly about the best way to design a structure that would withstand the magical surprises the Tourney might throw at them. She sighed. She should be the one working on the shelter, instead of running off on her own.

“Are you alright?” Lura asked, giving Catalina a concerned look.

“Oh, yes. Just…” she shook her head. “I hit my head when trying to pull Syd… Sydrial from the water. I’ve been a bit… off, ever since.”

Lura gave her a sympathetic smile. “If you’d rather not go looking for Evenar and Eventine, I understand. They can be intimidating. I suppose we could try to survive with just the four of us. Although for True Fae, both Evenar and Eventine are quite strong and their magic would be a boost. Especially as Sydrial seems a rather poor choice for Second. What with not being versed in using her magic and all. I’m shocked your mother chose her.” Lura shrugged. “Anyhow, it’s your call.” 

RESULTS: What should Catalina do?
Head out on her own to find Evenar and Eventine? 75%
Stay behind and help with the shelter? 0%
Ask Lura to join her in search of Evenar and Evetine? 25%
Admit everything to Lura and ask for her help returning to Earth? 0%

CHAPTER 14: SANDSTORM

Catalina considered Lura’s offer. She doubted she’d be able to convince the other fairies to join them by herself. But, as much as she’d like Lura’s company, the more time they spent together, the greater chance that Lura would see through Catalina’s disguise. She just couldn’t risk it. 

“It’s okay.” Catalina gave Lura a grim smile. “I’ll convince Evenar and Eventine to join us.”

Somehow.

Lura smiled back, looking relieved. “Good. I’d relish the chance to catch up with you, but I’m worried leaving those two alone for much longer.” She gestured to where Sydney and Maiele stood, bickering as they placed branches on the haphazard shelter. But although they were arguing, Sydney looked happy. The happiest Catalina had ever seen her, to tell the truth.

If only Catalina could be as content in Starkhaven as Sydney. But a storm of worry raged inside her stomach, and she had a feeling it would remain that way until she had both feet planted firmly back on Earth. 

After saying goodbye to Lura, Catalina caught Sydney’s attention. Sydney walked over, saying something over her shoulder to Maiele, who rolled her eyes and broke out laughing.

Catalina pushed away a flicker of jealousy.

“What’s up?” Sydney asked as she walked over, brushing leaves from her curling hair. 

“I’m going to find Evenar and Eventine. Try to convince them to join us.”

Sydney gave her a bright smile. “If anyone can do it, it’s you.”

“Thanks, but I wish I were staying to build the shelter. Something tells me that will be far easier,” Catalina said, wishing she had half of Sydney’s confidence. “Hey, do you remember that riddle from the start of the competition? The one Maiele said was unsolvable?”

“Sure.”

“All of it, word for word? With your mnemonic memory?”

Sydney squinted. “I think so. I wasn’t totally paying attention, but…” She paused for a moment, shutting her eyes. Then her voice lowered, sounding similar to Mortov’s own raspy tone. “And with this first Choosing, the Break of Light Challenge has begun. Remember, each Isle holds three secrets, each secret holds a key. When apart they are but a symbol, but when joined they set you free. Though your skills are strong and varied, your fingers filled with might, who has the wiles to last until the break of light?” 

Catalina’s eyes widened. “Say that again.”

Sydney repeated the riddle a few times until Catalina had it memorized.

“Do you think you can solve it?” Sydney asked.

Catalina grimaced. “I doubt it, but maybe it will help me have something to focus on—other than how much longer I can pretend to be Lynnoria without giving myself away.”

“Oh, you’re doing great.” Sydney glanced over her shoulder. “Is that all? I should  get back to helping Maiele.”

“That’s it.” She gave Lura a small wave, but the other girl had already turned and walked away.

Catalina sighed, squared her shoulders, and began looking for the easiest path to the beach.

At first the going was rough; the storm had sent leaves and broken branches tumbling down, and debris frequently blocked the path. Catalina picked her way towards the beach as quickly as possible, grateful for the years she’d spent clambering around in the California woodlands. 

In fact, many of the plants looked just like plants on Earth. Clumps of ivy, ferns and redwoods all looked the same. Other plants seemed familiar but on closer inspection held slight differences: purple pine needles mixed with black-barked oaks, flowers the size of basketballs beneath trees with leaves as soft as feathers. 

She began picking leaves from strange plants as she passed, tucking them into her belt pouch for safekeeping. Perhaps, when she finally returned home, she’d have them tested for biological similarities to Earthen plants. Perhaps she’d discover some kind of genetic marker for magic.

I’m supposed to be searching for haelmarrow, she reminded herself, not thinking about my book on the science of magic. For if she wasn’t able to heal Lynnoria when she finally returned home, what was the point in finishing the competition anyhow?

Lura had said the haelmarrow had yellow leaves and white berries. Forcing her eyes from a tree that looked almost like an oak, but with golden acorns, she scoured her surroundings for pale yellow leaves.

Eventually the forest thinned. The path veered down, and Catalina caught an occasional glimpse of the sea though the trees. With renewed determination she continued, the words of Mortov’s riddle rattling around inside her head: Each Isle holds three secrets, each secret holds a key. When apart they are but a symbol, but when joined they set you free.

So to solve it, she needed to find three secret keys and then combine them so they set her free. 

Catalina frowned. She was beginning to see why Maiele had called the riddle unsolvable. But that only made her want to figure it out all the more.

So what could the three secrets be? Treasure chests of some sort? If so, she was quite out of luck. There were a million places to hide a key on an island of this size! And what if the keys weren’t actual keys? They could be anything: codewords, or puzzle pieces, or some kind of magical item that she wouldn’t even recognize. 

She huffed a sigh of frustration. There had to be something to lead her in the right direction. 

Three secrets. Three teams per island. That couldn’t be a coincidence. Perhaps each team’s unique abilities somehow led them to one of the keys. Lura had said Evenar and Eventine had ice and stone magic. Perhaps their key was hidden beneath some sort of rock. 

A sudden fear gripped her. What if she—well, Lynnoria—was supposed to find one of the keys during the storm. What if there had been some sort of magic clue that only a Windweaver would see?

She shook her head. No, that couldn’t be it. At least, she hoped not. For more and more, she was coming to realize how much she wanted to solve the riddle; not only would she win the competition for Lynnoria and her family, but she could finally stop pretending to be someone else.

She recited the riddle again, chanting the words aloud. Maybe the three secrets were the teams themselves. Not that they were secret, exactly.

Still, the idea of bringing all three teams together seemed more vital than ever. Perhaps once they were in one place, the “keys”—whatever they were supposed to be—would become obvious. 

She clambered over a fallen log, spying a crop of yellow-leaved shrubs half-hidden beneath it, white berries dripped from the stems in fat clusters. 

Haelmarrow!

With a squeal of joy, she hastened to gather some up. The stems were woody and thick, and she had to resort to using Davious’ knife to cut through them. Unsure what part of the plant was the best for healing, she took some of everything— leaf, berry and stem—filling the pouch at her waist to overflowing. 

There, that should be more than enough to heal Lynnoria. 

She hoped.

With that task completed, all she had to do was get two Fae to join their alliance, figure out an unsolvable riddle, and fix the malfunctioning earring that was her only way home. Oh, and somehow convince Sydney to return to Earth with her!

She snorted and continued along the trail, grabbing clusters of haelmarrow berries from nearby plants as she went.

It seemed, the more she thought about it, that the hardest part of her journey might be talking Sydney into going home. While Catalina couldn’t imagine staying behind, she hadn’t spent her entire life wishing to live in fairyland.

The sound of waves pulled her away from the haelmarrow and her thoughts of Sydney. She staggered from beneath the trees onto a long stretch of sand so fine it looked like sugar. The deep blue water lapped at the sand, the waves small and gentle. 

Arms lifting, she stretched, happy to be under the open sky, even though the artificial night cast the world into shades of blue and lavender. While Catalina couldn’t wait to return home, she couldn’t help but appreciate the otherworldly beauty of Starkhaven. She wondered what the land would look like without the heightened Fae senses that Lynnoria’s magic gave her. Would everything appear dim? Would she be able to see at all?

She watched the waves tumble to the shore, pushing away the temptation to pull off her boots and wade in the water. With a sigh she scanned the shore, searching for signs of the other competitors.

If I were a fairy that could wield ice or stone, where would I set up camp? She turned in a slow circle, but there was no sign of them. Well, Lura never said it would be easy. So which direction should she go? 

She realized it didn’t matter. It was an island, after all. And not a large one. If she began walking down the beach, she’d make a big circle and end up back here. Eventually. 

After marking a big “C” in the sand with a fallen branch, she turned right and began making her way clockwise around the island.

She expected her legs to grow tired before anything else, what with the strain of walking through the soft sand, but it was her eyes that gave out first. But she’d been squinting, trying to see through the deepening shadows, for what felt like hours. She passed a hand across her eyes, wishing she were back in the clearing with Sydney. She’d been walking for what felt like hours, and hadn’t seen a single sign of the other Fae. What if they weren’t even camped out here? She considered turning around, but she’d already come so far. For all she knew, her starting point was just around the bend. So she continued, peering into the shadows as she dragged her feet through the shifting sands.

“Are you daft?!” A voice rang out, nearly lost beneath the crashing of the waves. 

Catalina stilled, straining her ears.

“If you pile the rocks like that, they’ll tumble down with the slightest breeze and crush us in our sleep.”

Another voice responded, but Catalina couldn’t make out the words. She crept closer to a pile of rocks at the water’s edge.

“Maybe I will,” the first voice thundered. Though they sounded more exhausted than angry. “It would be far safer that sleeping in this death trap.”

Catalina paused as a figure burst from the rocks. A girl, her black hair rising from her forehead like a crown. 

Not hair, Catalina realized, but feathers. Eventine. It had to be.

A fish pendant glittered on her chest, and her fingers were tipped with black claw-like nails as dark as her feathered hair. But otherwise she looked much the same as Maiele. Tall and willowy, with limbs a bit too long to seem human. 

Catalina hid in the shadow of a tree, wondering how best to approach the girl. Did Lynnoria know her? They were both Elemental Fae—both looked down upon by the so-called High Fae. Would Eventine be willing to join with the others because of that shared bond? Or would she keep to herself?

Only one way to find out, Catalina thought. And with a deep breath she stepped from the shadows, raising a hand overhead. “Eventine, hello!” 

The girl spun, throwing her arm before her, fingers outstretched. A bolt of something pale and shimmery flew towards Catalina. Was it water? 

No, she realized with a start, not water: frost!

Catalina lept sideways. The edge of the icy cloud missed her chest but nipped at her knees, causing her to stumble. She fell to the sand, rolling to avoid the next blast of ice. The frost spike hit the beach, and a spray of sand blasted into the air. She pushed herself to her feet, stomping to warm her frozen skin.

“I just want to talk,” she yelled, backing away. “I promise.”

“I don’t believe you.” Eventine growled something over her shoulder to the rocks behind her. Another Fae, who looked so much like Eventine that it had to be her brother Evenar, poked his head out, his grey eyes wide.

“Please. I want to work together. Help each other. So we can outlast the other teams.”

Eventine scowled, the feathers on her head ruffled by the wind. She cast a quick glance into the forest. “And where is your Second? Trying to sneak into our hideout while you distract us?”

“What?” Catalina stared at her. “No. And… isn’t that your hideout?” She pointed at the pile of rocks.

Eventine rolled her eyes. “You think we are foolish enough to build a base here?”

Catalina shut her eyes and took a deep breath. If only Sydney were here; she always knew the right thing to say. Catalina was terrible at talking to people she didn’t know. “Look, Sydrial—my Second—she’s far from here, working on putting together a base with Lura and Maiele. We’ve teamed up and we want you to join us.”

“You what?” The girl laughed. “You’ve teamed up with Lura Sunstrider and you expect us to join you? Should we obey because a daughter of the Council requires it?” She laughed louder. “Evenar, you have to hear this. You won’t believe it.”

The other Fae stepped from behind the rocks, dust coating his hair-feathers and the tops of his shoulders.

“What are you doing here?” He asked Catalina, his tone no more welcoming than Eventine’s.

“I was just explaining to your sister that my Second and I would like you to team up with us. In hopes of outlasting the other High Fae teams.”

“They’ve already joined forces with Lura Sunstrider,” Eventine said between laughs. 

Evenar looked from his sister to Catalina, one eyebrow raised. “This is a joke?”

“No joke.” Catalina held out a hand. “Think about it—we can pool our resources, save our magic, instead of using it against one another. We can finally beat the High Fae…” she trailed off. Evenar had turned his back on her, muttering to himself as he strode away. Eventine continued to laugh, though her hands were lifting, as if she were considering throwing another stream of ice in Catalina’s direction.

“It’s time for you to leave,” the Fae said, no trace of laughter in her harsh voice. 

“I’m not going anywhere without you,” Catalina said. “We need you, and you need us. Our skills are strong and varied,” she quoted the Break of Light riddle, hoping it might resonate with Evenar. “And together we have the strength to fight. To fight the injustices of this competition. To remake the Council. To change Starkhaven for the better!”

“Pretty words from a pretty puppet. I will never side with that High Fae traitor. None of the Elementals trust Lura. The taint of humanity lies thick on her skin. You are foolish to join her. But even if you hadn’t, we’d never join you. The judges would use it as an excuse to disqualify us and we’d be worse off than we are now.” She lifted an arm, pointing her fingers towards Catalina’s face. “Leave. Before I get angry.”

“I said I’m not–” 

A burst of ice flew from Eventine’s hand. Catalina threw herself to the ground, but Eventine seemed to expect her movement, aiming a second spray of frost across the sand. Catalina cried out, throwing her hands across her face and making herself as small as possible. Bits of ice stabbed into her bare arms, stinging like a hundred shards of glass.

She scrambled to her feet and ran towards the safety of the forest. 

When she’d reached the edge of the beach she stopped, turning back to where Eventine still stood, her hands outstretched. 

“You didn’t need to attack me. I won’t hurt you, whether you join us or not.” 

Eventine scowled. “I meant it as a warning. I expected you to block the ice with your wind. But perhaps the stories of Lynnoria’s fabled power are underrated. Could it be that the challenge has sucked away your strength already? If you are about to be disqualified, why would we ever consider joining you?”

“I’m conserving my power,” Catalina said, thinking fast. “As should you. Please, I ask again, will you join us?”

“She said no.” Evenar turned back, a look of fury on his face. His feathered head bristled, sticking up in a sort of mohawk. “Begone!” He yelled, lifting his hands. Sand rose, swirling around him faster and faster. The grains blurred, humming like a swarm of angry bees. Then, with a flick of his wrists, the sand-tornado left his body and careened across the beach.

Catalina’s eyes widened. No wonder they were building their shelter near the water, the sand was like a billion small rocks.

A billion small rocks heading straight for her!

“Okay, I’m going!” Catalina called out. “If you change your mind, you can find us at the island’s center.”

She turned and ran towards the safety of the trees, but the soft sand shifted beneath her feet, slowing her footsteps. The hum grew closer. Bits of sand flew free of the funnel to lick at her heels. She pushed herself harder, reaching for every drop of her body’s magically enhanced extra strength. But before she could reach the edge of the woods, the tornado struck. For a moment it surrounded her, scraping across her skin like sandpaper. And then, just when she thought the sand would tear the skin from her body, the tornado collapsed, knocking her to the ground. A torrent of sand rained down, burying her. More and more sand covered her, pouring into her nose, her mouth, her eyes. A stone pelted her shoulder, causing her to cry out in pain. She covered her head, in case more rocks fell.

And then the storm stopped. Catalina shook the sand from her head, coughing and spitting until she could no longer feel the grit between her teeth.

She lay there for a moment, listening to Evenar and Eventine’s footsteps as they walked away, leaving her alone on the beach. When only the sound of the waves remained, she sat up. Sand rolled off her back, kicking up a fresh batch of dust. She coughed again and sneezed. Pale dust coated her skin and clothing. She groaned. It would take an entire bottle of shampoo to wash all the grit from her hair, but she was alive and relatively unharmed. She rubbed her shoulder, sore from where the rock had hit her.

No, not a rock, she realized, catching sight of something glinting, half buried in the sand beside her. She dug it out, rubbing a finger across the hard surface.

Evenar’s fish pendant. It must have ripped from his tunic with the force of his magic, caught up in his sandstorm. She looked at it a moment, wondering why she could touch it without being shocked, unlike the pin clasped to her own top. 

Shrugging, she tucked the metal fish into her pouch alongside the haelmarrow and stared at the jumbled rocks at the water’s edge. She could just make out a few dark feathers sticking up from the stones. 

Poll Results:
Now what? Should she:
Try to Barter the Fish 50%
Return to Sydney and come up with a new plan. 33%
Wait for a while and approach them when their temper has cooled 17%

Chapter Fifteen: Broken

Catalina studied the fish pendant, wondering what it was for. A perk of some kind, like the owl pinned to her shirt, although she wasn’t sure what that meant exactly. A special advantage of some sort? But what? Owls always made her think of wisdom, but it could just as easily be flight, or night vision, or… anything really. 

Fish, snake and owl. The chosen perks of the three teams on this island. Did the others know what their pendants did? She’d been afraid to ask Lura and Maiele, afraid of showing her ignorance. Afraid they’d catch on to her deception and see through Lynnoria’s glamor to the human girl beneath. 

But the pins had to be important. Perhaps she didn’t need to know what they did to use them to her advantage. She stared at the fish a moment longer, then stood, having come to a decision. Holding the fish in one hand she stalked back towards the water. Towards Evenar and Eventine’s base. Or whatever it was. 

“Hey,” she called out, pitching her voice to be heard above the crashing of the waves. “I have something that belongs to you. I’m going to give it back. No strings attached. But I hope you’ll reconsider working with us.” Hopefully this gesture would prove she was trustworthy.

Eventine’s head popped up, her scowl visible even at a distance. “What part of leave us alone don’t you understand?”

“But you dropped—” Catalina’s word’s cut off as a blaze of white burst from Eventine’s hands. 

Ice shards!

She turned and ran back towards the tree line, knowing she’d never outrun the stream of ice in time. She risked a look over her shoulder and threw herself to the ground, hitting the sand and rolling.

The ice passed harmlessly overhead, crashing into the trunk of tree at the sand’s edge.

She glared at Eventine, who just smirked, and waved her hand, sending blast after blast of ice Catalina’s way. With a yelp, Catalina bolted towards the forest and the safety of the trees.

The trees were close enough to touch when a spray of ice caught her in the back of the knee. She fell, pain lancing through her leg. Her enhanced reflexes kicked in and one arm whipped out, wrapping around the trunk of a small tree, keeping her from falling.

She risked a look behind her.

The beach was a strip of burnished copper, the pile of rocks where Eventine stood hidden behind a handful of trees. The ice bursts had stopped, though Catalina was sure they’d start up again if she so much as put one toe on the beach. Sprays of frost coated the ground in uneven patches and a handful of trees were spattered with the stuff. It looked like the forest had been in an epic snowball fight. 

And lost.

With a moan, Catalina sank onto a nearby stone, tugging her pants up to inspect the damage. The fabric was shredded, as if the ice had eaten its way through the thick layer of cloth. Her leg itself was reddened and cold to the touch, but other than some bruising, she didn’t seem to be permanently damaged. Thank goodness the ice had hit her leg, and not the unprotected parts of her skin. She shuddered at the thought of the sharp ice hitting her hands, or worse, her face.

Once she was sure her leg would recover she tugged down her pants and shut her eyes.

Now what?

But she already knew the answer. She’d have to go back to camp empty handed. Well, not entirely empty handed. She did have the haelmarrow leaves. Not that they’d do Lynnoria’s injury any good while Catalina was still stuck here in Starkhaven. She fingered the gem in her ear, spinning it again and again without much hope that anything would happen.

Nothing did, other than a strand of her long blue hair getting tangled in the metal. She tugged at it, then gave it up. She didn’t care if her hair was tangled. It wasn’t even her real hair.

She was tired of Starkhaven. Tired of trying to understand magical forces that made no sense. She wanted to go back home. Back to Earth where things were knowable. Where math and physics and biology made sense of the universe. Where her body looked like her. Where her hair was a normal color, not something out of a fantasy novel.

She didn’t understand why she, of all people, was cursed with a Shadowsister. Why not Sydney? Or some other girl who’d be thrilled with a connection to a magical realm like Starkhaven? She didn’t want to be Lynnoria’s Shadowsister. Didn’t want the responsibility of competing in this trial. How was she expected to win when she didn’t have a sliver of magic running through her? When she didn’t even understand the rules?

Though, she grudgingly admitted, she had seen some cool stuff. Ice and sand magic! Feathers for hair! Traveling through shadow! Even the strangeness of the forest was something she was glad she’d seen. Or would be, someday. Once she managed to get home. 

With a weary sigh, Catalina stood, leaning against a nearby tree. Tentatively, she touched a finger to the layer of ice riming the bark. It encircled three sides of the tree, a strangely beautiful pattern of glittery white destruction. More a frost than solid ice, it melted away beneath Catalina’s fingertip. In a moment of whimsy she wrote ‘Catalina was here’ in the ice. 

Then she heard the cracking. 

It broke through the silence of the forest, louder than the distant crashing of the waves. It came from beside her, from all around her. From the tree she leaned on, and from the trees closer to the beach.

She realized what was going to happen seconds before it did.

As if in slow motion, the tree beside her began to fall, splitting where the ice had hit as if  felled by an axe.

Heart pounding, Catalina turned and ran, zigzagging around clumps of shrubs and stone, even as the shadows of the falling trees reached for her, like the grasping fingers of a witch.

She lept to one side, away from a looming shadow. A tree crashed down, colliding with the ground right where she’d been just a moment before. The impact shook the ground, spraying dust and debris into the air and knocking Catalina from her feet. 

The ground rushed up to meet her.

The world went black.

When Catalina came to, everything hurt. Her head. Her eyes. Definitely her hands, which had broken her fall. It took her a long moment to open her eyes. And an even longer moment to risk pushing herself upright. When she did, things grew blurry and she squeezed her eyes tight, thinking she might need to lay back down before she blacked out again. But after a moment the dizziness passed and she risked opening her eyes a fraction of an inch.

All around her dust clogged the air. The fallen tree lay less than two feet from where she’d been standing and a wave of dizziness came over her again at how close she’d come to being flattened. Somehow she knew that even her heightened reflexes wouldn’t have saved her.

After what felt like a long time, Catalina pushed herself to her feet and started walking. The going was slow, at first. Her muscles strained with every step. The dizziness returned from time to time, causing her to stop and take long, slow breaths until it receded. But she made her way, slowly but surely, back towards the center of the island.

She used landmarks to track her return: first the haelmarrow shrubs, then the odd plants with the gigantic flowers, and finally the grove of giant redwoods. Yet she must have taken the wrong route at some point along the way. For although she could see the clearing at the center of the island, her path was blocked by a wide, rushing stream.

There were no fallen logs to use as a bridge this time. No scattering of stones to leap across. And while the water didn’t appear too deep, she knew better than to trust her eyes in this strange place. But there was nothing for it. She didn’t have time to scout the length of the river for a better place to cross. She’d already lost time arguing with the twins, and more time as she’d lain beside the fallen trees, her head spinning and her bones aching.

She considered removing her boots, to keep them dry. But if the water got too deep she’d need her hands to swim, and the boots would get wet anyhow. So in the end she left them on, sucked in a sharp breath and plunged into the stream.

At first it only reached her ankles. Ice cold. And slippery. She wobbled, arms out-flung. With each step the water deepened, rising to cover her knees, and then her hips, and finally her chest. By then she was basically swimming anyhow, so with a meager kick, she pushed off and paddled her way towards the far shore.

One good thing about the icy water: she no longer felt her bruises. She didn’t feel much of anything, other than a throbbing in her head and the pain of taking sharp, shallow breaths. Eventually, her knuckles grazed rock. She struggled ashore to lay gasping in the reeds. There was a long moment where she wasn’t sure she could get back up. Or if she even wanted to.

She’d failed. Completely.

Evenar and Eventine had turned her away. 

The riddle remained unsolved.

And she’d nearly died. Countless times. 

Catalina lay in the dirt for another long moment, very cold and feeling very sorry for herself. 

Then, taking a deep breath, she sat up. She may have failed, but that didn’t mean the competition was over. She wouldn’t give up. After all, they had Lura and Maiele as allies. She’d found the Haelmarrow. And the Fish pendant. Perhaps Evenar would come looking for it and they’d have another chance to change his mind.

Glancing around to be sure she was alone, she stripped off her clothes and wrung the fabric as best she could. Then, after rubbing some life back into her arms and legs, she put her damp, wrinkled clothes back on. Her coiled braids had come undone, leaving her hair in tangled clumps. She worked at it with her fingers, determined to remove the worst of the knots before facing Lura.

She may have failed, but she wouldn’t return looking like a failure.

She continued pulling the matted knots free as she started up the bank. She’d smoothed most of her hair by the time she reached the edge of the clearing. Only one last, stubborn tangle remained. She yanked on it, hard. A sharp pain tore through her ear. She put a hand up and it came away red with blood.

Catalina stared at the blood, not understanding. Something on the ground glittered, catching her eye. A red gem, wrapped in gold. She stooped down,   picking up the small gem. 

Lynnoria’s earring. It must have been caught in her hair. Must have torn free as she’d yanked at the knots. The red crystal remained bound in gold, a jagged crack splitting the rock in two. 

Then, as she stared at the gem, a warm wind kicked up. Her clothes flapped against her skin, her hair whipped overhead and a strange tightness pulled at her skin. She shut her eyes against a sudden flash of light. When she opened them she felt as if she was standing in a fog; her hearing and sight seemed strangely dimmed.

She blinked, trying to dispel the disorientation. Her hand reached up, rubbing at her eyes. Trying to rub away the dust or whatever it was that made it so hard to see.

Her hand, her skin… 

Gone were the tapered fingers, the golden brown skin. Instead she stared at her hand. Her actual hand. 

She pulled a clump of hair in front of her face, staring in surprise at the honey-blond strands. Not blue. Not long and faery-soft. She ran a hand over her ears, her nose, feeling her own human features. Feeling just her: Catalina. Not Lynnoria’s sharp ears or upturned nose.

What had Lynnoria said, that damaging the gem would weaken the glamor? But it was more than weakened, it seemed to have vanished altogether. 

With shaking fingers she slid the earring back into her stinging ear, ignoring the pain. She caught her breath, waiting.

Nothing happened. 

Nothing changed. 

Gone was the shadow of Lynnoria. Her link back to earth. She was Catalina again. Lost among the shadows of a hidden world. With no way to get home.

She ducked behind a tree, hoping the transformation hadn’t been seen by anyone else. 

Now what???

Poll results:
Her disguise is gone, now what?

Tell Lura and ask for help? 45%
Find Sydney and ask her what to do 45%
Hide out until the contest ends 10%

Chapter Sixteen: Half Human

Catalina had never felt more alone. Now that the enchantment had broken, now that she was just Catalina again and not wearing the body of another girl—no, not a girl, a Fae—Catalina finally saw Starkhaven through human eyes.

She wasn’t sure she liked it.

Shadows spread across the forest like spiderwebs. Deep shadows that wound round each other, eating away at the light. Gobbling it up until it seemed the whole world was awash in darkness.

She shivered.

Before, when the glamor had enhanced her senses, her heightened vision had cut through the shadows, making the forest appear more or less like any ancient forest on Earth.

How wrong she’d been.

The shadows seemed to have a life of their own. Shifting, pulsing. Reaching towards her when they thought she wasn’t looking. 

She needed to get out of here. Go home. And the sooner, the better.

But with the magical earring—her supposed ticket home—broken, and her disguise along with it, she had no idea how to find the shadowpaths that led home.

Homesickness washed over her, a wanting so strong it almost blotted out the creepy feeling of the forest.

But she wasn’t alone. Sydney was here. Sydney, who knew more about magic than anyone Catalina had ever met. If anyone could find their way home, it was her.

So Catalina crept through the woods, keeping to the shadows. Though not too near, in case they gobbled up people as surely as they gobbled light. The going was rough—she hadn’t realized how much she’d come to rely on her Fae strength—but eventually she made her way to the edge of the clearing where she’d last seen Sydney.

She was still there, working with Maiele, one of the two real Fae that they’d teamed up with in an attempt to win the stupid competition they’d found themselves embroiled in. Together, Sydney and Maiele were constructing a shelter, binding large palm-like leaves to a small hut made of branches.

Catalina ducked behind a fallen tree, wondering what to do. She didn’t want to approach Sydney while Maiele was there. She couldn’t risk the Fae girl seeing her un-glamoured appearance. After all, who knew what Maiele would do if she found out her teammates were actually human imposters. 

Nothing good, of that Catalina was sure. 

Tucking herself as far into the shadows as she dared, she settled down to wait, hoping Maiele would slip away, leaving Sydney alone.

Nearly done, the shelter was a small, flimsy looking tangle of leaves and twigs unlikely to provide much protection from anything stronger than a light rain. Catalina shook her head at the shoddy construction, wishing she’d been the one to stay behind and work on the shelter. Instead, they’d sent her on a fruitless mission to convince the only other team on the island—twins with strangely feathered hair—to join their alliance. Not only had she failed, but the twins—Eventine and Evenar—had attacked her, causing her earring to crack and her glamor to fail.

Catalina reached into her pocket. Perhaps she’d been wrong, perhaps the earring wasn’t broken beyond repair. But instead of the gem, her fingers brushed against something cold and sharp. She pulled it free. Evenar’s pin. Fasioned to look like a swimming fish, the silver metal caught the light, cutting through the shadows. Bits of sand clung to the intricately carved scales. Catalina brushed them away, and fashioned the pin to her cloak, beside the golden owl that she’d found pinned there at the start of the competition.

It felt like hours before Maiele slipped away, murmuring something about checking in with Lura.

“Sydney!” Catalina hissed.

Sydney spun, peering into the trees.

“Over here!” 

Sydney took a few steps towards the forest’s edge before saying, “Lina, is that you? Come check out the shelter we built!”

“It’s me, just… come here for a minute.”

Sydney skipped over, wearing a tired but pleased expression. There was a twig in her red curls and a smudge of dirt across her nose, but she looked happier than Catalina had ever seen her.

“Oh! Oh no!” The smile fell from Sydney’s face as she took in Catalina’s human form. “What happened to your glamor?”

Catalina pulled the earring from her pocket. “It cracked.”

Sydney blinked. “That’s not good. How are you supposed to get home?”

“My thought exactly,” Catalina replied, though her mind caught on Sydney’s words: How will you get home. You. Not we.

“Hm,” Sydney ran her hands through her hair. The stray leaf fell to the ground. “Did you find the other team?”

Catalina stared at her friend. That’s what she wanted to know? 

“I did,” she said. “It didn’t go well. They attacked me. That’s how the earring broke.” 

“Attacked you?” Sydney’s eyes widened, but Catalina wasn’t sure if she was horrified or jealous. 

“Yeah, with a sandstorm. And an ice storm too, actually.”

“Wow.” She stared at Catalina, a glimmer of respect in her eyes. “Hey what’s that?” She pointed at the fish pendant dangling from Catalina’s cloak.

 “I think it’s Evenar’s. They lost it in the sand and then wouldn’t talk to me, so I brought it back. Maybe Lura knows what it’s for.” She frowned. “Not that we’ll be able to show her.”

“Why not?”

Catalina gestured to herself—at her clearly human body draped in Lynnoria’s clothing. 

“So?”

“I can’t let her see me like this. As a human!”

“What are you talking about? We have to tell her.”

Catalina stared at Sydney in shock. “We can’t!” 

“Yes, we can. There’s no way to hide this from her. You know that, right?”

“Hide what?” a voice behind them said.

Maiele.

Catalina ducked, tucking herself into the shadows that lay across the ground as best as she could.

Sydney spun. “Crazy story,” she said, her voice strained.

Maiele ignored her. “I know you’re back there, Lynnoria. I can smell you. Might as well come out.”

Smell her? Catalina cringed.

“She’s afraid,” Sydney said.

“Of what? That she failed to convince the twins to join us? No one expected her to succeed. I mean, perhaps Lura held a slim hope, but I knew they would be too feather-brained to take a good deal when offered.”

They knew she wouldn’t succeed, and they sent her anyway? Catalina held back a sigh of frustration.

“Just promise you won’t get mad. Or… do anything to her.” Sydney gave Maiele a pleading smile. The Fae looked at her strangely.

“Fine.”

“Like, actually promise.”

Maiele rolled her eyes. “I promise I won’t do anything mean or scary. Satisfied?”

Sydney nodded. “Lina, it’s okay. You can come out.”

Slowly, not at all sure it was a good idea, but knowing there was no way to stay hidden when Maiele could smell her, Catalina stood. She took a deep breath, then raised her eyes and met Maiele’s own.

They were wide with shock and horror.

“Lynnoria, you’re… you’re human?”

Sydney quickly explained about Lynnoria showing up on Earth, injured and claiming to be Catalina’s shadowsister. About the glamor. The search for haelmarrow. About accidentally getting caught up in the competition. And about the gem cracking.

“So now she’s stuck here. I mean, we both are,” Sydney amended.

Maiele looked back and forth between the two of them. Catalina got the sense that she was more shocked that Sydney was human than by any other part of the whole crazy story.

Finally, she heaved a sigh. “Well, as I’ve sworn not to harm you, I guess it’s up to Lura to figure out what to do with you. Come on, she’s this way.” She turned and started across the clearing. Sydney followed, tugging at Catalina’s hand until she followed, reluctantly.

“What will Lura do?” Catalina asked, not entirely sure she actually wanted to know the answer.

Maiele waved a hand. “Laugh probably. That girl has the strangest sense of humor. It comes from being half-human, I expect.”

Catalina stopped in her tracks. “Wait a minute, Lura is half-human?”

Maiele raised one golden eyebrow. “Didn’t you know? I thought it was obvious.”

“To a Fae, perhaps,” Catalina said, and began walking again. “To my eyes you both look just as… strange.”

Maiele grinned wickedly. “I suppose since I’ve promised not to be mean, I’ll just take that as a compliment.”

“So do you think Lura can to get us home?” Sydney asked. 

“Oh, getting you back to Earth is the easy part,” Maiele said breezily. Catalina and Sydney exchanged a surprised glance. “Lura travels between worlds all the time. I’m sure she’ll be able to return you once the competition ends and the shadowpaths are restored.” 

“So, what’s the hard part?”

Maiele raised one red-gold eyebrow. “Keeping you alive until then.”

Maiele strode away, leaving Catalina and Sydney to follow, a sense of foreboding 

After a few moments, Sydney strode ahead to walk alongside Maiele, peppering her with questions about Lura’s half-human blood and the magic behind the shadowpaths. Maiele answered with extravagant answers that Catalina wasn’t sure were entirely true.

Catalina followed behind, watching as they argued about the origin of magic. If anyone should be shadow sisters, it was Sydney and Maiele. They thought alike, had the same tenacity—they even looked alike. Although Maiele had always appeared… wilder… than Sydney, the shape of their faces, their tumbling red-gold curls and the look of determination they both wore made it hard to believe they weren’t related in some way.

It wasn’t fair that she wound up with a shadowsister and got sucked into this complete debacle when she’d rather be home working on her science experiments while Sydney, who loved fairytales and magic, was just dragged along for the ride. 

But at least Sydney was here. At least she could go on knowing that magic existed. Meanwhile, Catalina would go home and spend the rest of her days knowing that scientific rationality was all a lie.

They rounded a rocky outcropping and found Lura hunched over a small fire. 

“I found nuts to roast,” she said brightly, poking at something in the fire with a stick. 

When no one replied, she looked up. Her eyebrows raised.

And raised some more.

“Who… Lynnoria? But no. And yet…” She tilted her head, her lavender braids brushing her shoulders. “Your essence. It smells of her.”

Not the whole smelling thing again.

Maiele repeated what Sydney had told her, in fewer words. Lura listened, her eyes never leaving Catalina. She nodded, as if it wasn’t the most outlandish thing she’d ever heard.

“And the actual Lynnoria?”

“On Earth. At my house. Still wounded,” Catalina said. “She needs this.” She held out the bunches of haelmarrow she’d collected.

“Haelmarrow?” Lura shook her head. “That won’t work.”

Catalina’s heart dropped. “But… Lynnoria said…”

“They have to be properly prepared for the healing properties to be effective. Soaked and boiled so the sap releases, before being cooked down into a syrup,” Maiele said.

They all looked at her. She shrugged. “What? My grandma makes it. She’d always send my brother and I out to gather leaves. You’ll need far more. That won’t make more than a few drops.”

“So we gather more. I found a huge patch not far from here.” But even as she said it, Catalina wondered if she’d be able to find her way back without Fae senses to guide her. 

Maiele shook her head. “That will take forever. And even if we could gather enough, I’m not sure of the exact recipe. I only gathered the leaves. My grandma did all the actual peroration. Not to mention that we’re in the middle of the Tourney. Which we are supposed to be trying to win. Lynnoria will have to wait.”

“We could forfeit.” Lura said in a quiet voice.

“What!” Maiele’s head whipped around and she stared at Lura in disbelief.

“Once we’re out of the Tourney, the shadowpaths will be open to us. I can take the girls back to Earth and heal Lynnoria.”

Catalina felt a pulse of hope fill her chest. Could it be that easy?

“No.” Maiele crossed her arms over her chest. “I won’t allow it. If we forfeit, then we lose not only Lynnoria’s seat on the council, but yours as well.”

“What other choice do we have?” Lura asked, her voice pained. “I won’t risk Lynnoria’s life over stupid politics.”

“It’s more than politics,” Maiele bit out. “It’s the fate of all Fae hanging in the balance. Lynnoria would rather die than have Magwallow take your family’s seat on the council.”

“The Tourney is that important?” Catalina said in disbelief. Why would they let a children’s competition decide such important matters?

But both Fae nodded, their faces grim.

“Then we have to win. And fast.” Catalina couldn’t believe the words, even as they came out of her mouth. How could she give up an opportunity to get home to help a land she hoped to escape and never set foot in again? But she’d ended up in this mess when she’d allowed herself to take Lynnoria’s place in the Tourney. It was up to her to do what she could. She never wanted a shadowsister, but like it or not, she had one. And she wouldn’t fail her. 

“There’s one other option,” Lura said, her voice uncertain. “We give Catalina my Shadowcloak. With it, and with a bit of luck, she can slip through the shadows and make her way back to Earth.”

Catalina’s heart stuttered. “What about healing her? You said we don’t have time to gather more.”

Lura shrugged. “Take the leaves you have. Make her chew them up. Put some on her wound. Hopefully that will keep her alive long enough to bring her back here.”

“What?!” Both Catalina and Maiele said.

“That’s a terrible idea,” Maiele added. “One wrong turn and she’ll be lost in the shadowpaths forever.”

They all looked at Catalina.

“The choice,” Lura said, “is up to you.”

Should she:

Try to win the contest as quickly as possible? 75%

Borrow Lura’s cloak and brave the shadow paths? 25%

Forfeit the contest and hurry back to Earth? 0%

Chapter Seventeen: Puzzled

“So how do we win?” Sydney asked.

A light rain had started, so the girls had gathered together in the shelter, testing it out. So far, only a few stray drops had made it through the layers of leaves. Unfortunately, being inside meant even less light to see by and Catalina was sorely missing the heightened senses Lynnoria’s glamor had given her.

“When your magic runs out, you lose and get kicked off the island.” Maiele said. “The last team to survive gets a spot on the council.” 

“So, when Evenar blasted Catalina with sand, he used up some of his magic?”

Maiele nodded.

“So we need to get them to use up the rest of their magic before we do.” Sydney said, an excited gleam entering her eye.

“But that would leave two teams. Ours, and yours.” Catalina fidgeted with the fish pendant, running her finger along its edge. At least she hadn’t lost her sense of touch! She looked up, realization dawning. “But wait, why are Sydney and I still competing? With the glamour broken, our team has no magic.”

They all stared at her.

“You’re right,” Lura mused. She shrugged, a decidedly human motion. “It must have something to do with your shadowsister bond.”

But Catalina wasn’t so sure.

She looked at Sydney. Sydney, who looked so like Maiele. Sydney, who was happier here among the Fae than Catalina had ever seen her. She opened her mouth, but the words didn’t come. What if she was wrong? She’d hate to get Sydney’s hopes up just to have them dashed. 

Maiele turned away from where she was also staring suspiciously at Sydney, and said, “But let’s say we can disqualify the twins. That still leaves our two teams. And only one of us can win and join the council.” She shook her head in disgust. “So who will it be, Lura? Your family or Lynnoria’s?”

Lura frowned. “There is another possibility… Do you remember the riddle? From the start of the contest? Any team that solves it wins and gets a place on the council. So, if we can both disqualify the twins, and solve the riddle, we could hold two council seats, instead of one.”

Maiele snorted. “No one ever solves the riddle. It’s impossible.”

“Nothing’s impossible,” said Catalina.

“Right,” Sydney said. “So, where do we start?”

In the end, they decided Catalina should work on solving the riddle while the other three made their way down to the beach and tried to lure Evenar and Eventine from their fortress. Catalina was honestly glad to stay behind, not because she believed she had any chance of solving the riddle, but making her way back down to the beach without enhanced senses made her exhausted just thinking about it.

They’d discussed remaking Lynnoria’s glamor, giving Catalina back both the features and the senses of her shadowsister, but it would be a tremendous use of magic, and in the end, they decided it wouldn’t really be worth it.

 “So Sydney will walk along the beach as if she’s still looking for Lynnoria,” Lura was saying. “And when the twins come out to investigate, we’ll attack, and hopefully that will get them to fight back. It’s a fine line, because they’ll be trying to hold on to their magic as much as we will, but I’m hoping they’ll lose control.”

It was as good a plan as any, Onyx supposed. She didn’t know enough about the inner workings of Fae magic to offer any input. Really she just wished she could see better. All she could make out of Lura was the flash of her eyes and the glint of her snake pendant.

“Hey,” she said suddenly, an idea unfurling at the back of her mind. “Can I have your pendant?”

“My… what?” Lura sounded confused.

“The snake pin. Unless you need it?” 

“No, not at all.” She unfastened it and pressed it into Catalina’s hand. Catalina ran a finger across the surface, feeling the raised patterning of finely wrought scales. 

“If your magic get’s too low, remember to disengage. Don’t let your ego get the better of you,” Lura said to Maiele. “Everyone ready? Okay, let’s go.”

They slipped from the shelter, leaving Catalina alone in near darkness. After a moment she heard a rustling and Lura returned. “I’m sorry to leave you alone here,” she said. “But you should be safe as long as you stay in the shelter.”

“It’s fine,” Catalina said. “I just wish there was some why I could help. I mean, outside of the riddle and all.”

“No one expects you to actually solve the riddle,” Lura said, her voice gentle. “It’s included to make those with less magic feel like they have a chance, but they always design it to be so challenging that it’s not worth the effort. But, since you’ll be here alone with nothing else to do, I suppose trying won’t hurt.” She offered Catalina a small smile. “Sit tight. We’ll be back soon.”

And with that, she walked away, her footsteps fading away until all Catalina could hear was the sound of branches creaking in the wind.

For a long time, Catalina busied herself with fixing the shelter. Maiele and Sydney had done a terrible job of it—the support branches leaned in every direction and many of the covering leaves were already falling off—though she couldn’t blame them, it was unlikely either girl had ever needed to build a shelter in the wild.

But Catalina had, one summer at adventure camp. They’d learned to build fires from scratch, whittle, construct shelters. They’d even ended up sleeping in the shelters they built, though with modern sleeping bags to keep them warm. She’d liked that camp, though not nearly as much as the science camp she’d attended. And then there was the camp that focused on codes and riddles. That had been pretty fun, and she’d been surprisingly good at figuring out the riddles. Her mind slipped back to the riddle given by Mortov at the beginning of the competition. What had he said?

Something about three secrets and three keys being joined to set them free. And having the wiles to last until the break of light. 

She’d assumed that the break of light meant until the sun rose. But with the strange shadows surrounding the island, it was nearly impossible to tell what time of day it actually was. For all she knew it could be noon. So what if break of light meant something else?

She shook her head. It could be anything. Some magical plant or rock that emitted light when broken. Or a shifting of the shadows. Without more knowledge of Starkhaven, how was she supposed to know what was possible?

She had to approach this like a scientist. So, what did she know? 

The riddle mentioned three secrets, three keys. There were three teams. That couldn’t be a coincidence. But what if joining the three keys together didn’t mean the teams themselves, as they’d initially thought, but the pins? 

They weren’t secret. And the riddle had said three secrets, each with its own key. But it was all she had.

She lay the pins on a leaf, studying them.

Fish.

Owl.

Snake.

They were all designed in a similar style, simple lines carved from metal, but twisting and overlapping. She flipped them over, but other than the pin and a few swirling lines engraved into the metal, there was nothing.

None of them looked anything remotely like a key. But then perhaps the riddle didn’t mean key in a literal sense. A key could be a symbol for a map. Or a key to a code. Or puzzle.

So if these pins were actually the keys, she needed to join them together.

There was a certain similarity between the shapes. The owl was the largest, its wings spread wide, its eyes seeming to stare at her, as if urging her on. The snake had similar eyes, though smaller. She picked up both pins, turning them this way and that. The owl’s tail was roughly the same shape as the snake’s head. She turned them so the snake’s head pointed down, squinting her eyes.

And then she saw it.

With a squeal of glee, Catalina slotted the two pins together. A perfect fit!

Now for the fish. 

After seeing how the other two fit, this one was easy. She slid the fish so that it nestled into one of the owl’s wings, and held the newly forged pin aloft.

Nothing happened.

Scowling, Catalina examined her handiwork. The three pins all fit perfectly together, no loose bits. So what was wrong? Why wasn’t it the solution?

She stared down at the pin again, wondering what to do. 

Break of light. 

Did that have something to do with it? Was she supposed to place it in the light? Or use some kind of light magic on it? She wasn’t sure if that was even a real thing, but she supposed if there was shadow magic, light magic wasn’t too farfetched.

Or was she supposed to pin the combined symbols on her tunic? Perhaps wearing them would activate some sort of signal.

She flipped the pins over, careful to keep them conjoined, and studied their backs. The swirling lines fit together, forming an intricate pattern. 

A word? Some kind of magic spell? Or just a design?

Catalina shook her head and studied the pin in consternation. 

She was so close to solving the puzzle. She could almost taste it. And yet, the next step eluded her. 

What should she do with the pin?

Wait for the others to return? 50%
Attach the pins to her shirt? 50%
Search for a source of light?

Chapter Eighteen – Stay or Go

Catalina stared at the pin in her hand. It glinted up at her, teasingly. Bracing herself, she attached the pin to her shirt.

 Nothing happened.

She grimaced. Now what? She recited the riddle once more: “Each Isle holds three secrets, each secret holds a key. When apart they are but a symbol, but when joined they set you free. Though your skills are strong and varied, your fingers filled with might, which teams have the wiles to last until the break of light?”

She’d figured out what the keys were, but they hadn’t set her free. So what else could she do? Was she supposed to just wait around and hope that Lura’s magic lasted until daybreak? Honestly, she wasn’t even sure the ever-present gloom counted as night. It was more like they’d been trapped in some kind of massive shadow. A fog that blotted out the sun and cast the island in perpetual dark.

Was there a countdown? Some number of hours or days until the shadows cleared? The so-called break of light?

Catalina had no idea. What she did know was that she wouldn’t sit by waiting to find out. 

She shuffled from under the makeshift shelter into the gale. The rain hadn’t started up again, fortunately, but the trees swayed in the heavy breeze. Catalina squinted, trying to make out her surroundings in the gloom. It wasn’t that she couldn’t see, she realized, just that her surroundings appeared so much darker without Fae magic bolstering her sight. Honestly, the world looked like the woods beneath a full moon—dark, but bright enough to walk around without too much concern, as long as she was careful.

She peered overhead. No moon in sight, just the swirling mass of shadow that seemed to leech the color from the world. So where would the best place to find light be? She could build a fire. Maybe. Without matches, kindling even a spark would be difficult. But with wood damp from the earlier thunderstorm, it became near impossible.

If she couldn’t build a fire, she needed some way to find a break in the gloomy shadows surrounding them. The beach was wreathed in darkness, but perhaps the shadows were like a layer of fog and if she could make her way above them, she’d find the sun.

The clearing where they’d built the shelter was in the center of the island, but it wasn’t the highest point. That lay to her left, at the top of a rocky outcropping the loomed overhead and sheltered the clearing from the worst of the wind. Climbing in the near dark was a risk, but unless the lighting started up again and caught another tree on fire, it was her only chance.

Pulling a stout walking stick from the edge of the shelter, Catalina started off, wishing her wilderness camp leader could see her now.

The hike had been easier than expected. Catalina had stumbled upon a narrow trail—likely made by some kind of wildlife—that wound up the side of the hill. Now she stood near the top, staring up at the large tree that thrust from the rocky hilltop. The top of the ancient tree disappeared into the gloom, and Catalina could only hope that the top pierced the shadows, like a flower reaching for the sun.

She thought back to her treehouse, where all of this had started. What would have happened if she hadn’t climbed the treehouse and found Lynnoria lying there, fairy blood spilling from her wound? Would her shadow sister have died? Or would someone—her mother? Lura?—found some way to rescue her before the wound grew too dire? 

With a fervent wish that Lynnoria still lived, that all this wasn’t just a horrible waste of time, Catalina took a deep breath and leaped, reaching for the lowest branch of the tree.

And fell, smacking her knee on a rock.

Right, it wasn’t just her heightened senses that had vanished when Lynnoria’s enchantment failed. She’d have to climb the tree the old-fashioned way—without magically enhanced muscles.

She pulled her long tunic off, tearing and knotting it until it resembled a makeshift rope. She could only hope the fairy fabric was stronger than it looked. Casting around on the ground she found a large rock and tied one end of the fabric to it. 

Here goes, she thought, and lobbed the rock at the branch.

On her third try it worked, the rock sailing over the branch and thudding against the trunk of the tree. Quickly she grabbed both ends and hauled herself up until she lay, gasping, across the branch. Untangling the fabric, she looped it around her shoulders and gingerly rose to her feet. The wood was slick with moss but Catalina’s soft soled boots gave her nearly as much traction as bare feet. Reaching, she hauled herself up to the next branch.

Slowly but surely she made her way up the tree. The wind died down, and the branches only swayed slightly. Enough to make her wince every time she let go of the trunk to reach for the next branch. But she didn’t fall, and soon her old confidence in her own abilities came back. She didn’t need fairy magic. She trusted herself. Trusted the knowledge of where to step and how far she could reach. Trusted her balance and the strength of her arms. She might not have the amazing abilities of the Fae, but she didn’t need them.

Above her the shadows seemed to dissolve like cotton candy, beams of pale light glinting just out of reach.

A wave of certainty crested inside her, the knowledge that this was the break of day. To crack the layer of shadow that lay across the island. All she needed was the key. She groped for the pin, still clipped to the end of her makeshift rope. One more branch. Just a few feet higher and she’d pierce the shadow layer. She’d hold the pin aloft, letting the metal warm in the sun and solve the riddle.

What happened after that, she wasn’t sure, but hopefully it involved getting Lynnoria the medicine she needed and returning them all to their rightful worlds. 

Grinning a smile so wide her cheeks hurt, Catalina launched herself to the next branch, realizing a moment too late that she’d misjudged the distance. 

Her fingers grazed the slick wood, scrambling for purchase. And then she fell.

A cry tore from her lips and using the last bit of her strength, Catalina flung the pin up into the sky. The tattered fabric slipped from her hands, fluttering like a prayer flag in the breeze as she tumbled back towards the ground.

She reached out, hoping to catch a branch and stop her fall, but they whizzed past. As she tumbled through open air she strained her eyes, searching for the pin, wondering if it continued its upward journey towards the light, or if, like her, it was on its way back down. 

And then, a branch reached for her, thumping her soundly on the head and everything went dark.

Catalina peeled open her eyes, finding the world awash in flame. No, not flame. Hair. Red-gold hair draping across her face, tickling her chin.

She batted it away feebly.

“She’s awake!” Sydney said.

Catalina struggled to sit up, but someone pressed her shoulders down, stopping her.

“Eat this before you try to stand.” Lura, shoving something into her hand. A leaf. “Healmarrow,” she explained.

Catalina took a tentative bite. It tasted a bit like basil, but tangier. She gulped down the rest of the leaf, sighing as the pain in her head faded to a gentle ache.

Sydney helped her up. Gone was the forest, the island. They stood in a circle made of shadow. They were all there—even the twins, who watched with narrowed eyes.

“You did it,” Sydney said, a whisper of awe in her voice. “You solved the riddle.”

“I did?” Catalina looked around. Wisps of fog as dark as ink curled around them, blotting the rest of the world from view. 

The shadowpath.

Lura nodded. “The ruling families will be in an uproar!” She sounded delighted.

Evenar gave Catalina a slight bow, the feathers along his head bobbing gently. “Thanks to you our people will once again have a voice on the council. We are in your debt.”

Catalina blinked. “So, the competition is over?”

Lura nodded. “Even now the shadowpath is trying to pull us back to the mainland, where the others gather. Maiele is holding it at bay, for now.” 

Catalina glanced at Maiele, who stood with legs braced, her face tight with concentration. Sydney grasped Maiele’s hand and the strain on her face slightly eased.

“Maiele and Sydney, I should say,” Lura amended. “It seems your companion might have more than a speck of fairy blood in her veins after all.”

Somehow Catalina wasn’t terribly surprised. “And what of Lynnoria?” she asked, her forehead wrinkling in concern.

“You’ll take the rest of the haelmarrow to her now, using this.” Lura pulled her billowing cloak off and draped it around Catalina’s shoulders. “The cloak allows you to traverse the shadowpaths without fear of being lost. Envision your destination and you will find yourself there within moments. Once Lynnoria has ingested the leaves, give her the cloak and bid her to return to my side. I’ll make sure no one ever learns of her detour, or of you.”

Catalina shivered as the cloak settled around her and the shadows came alive, tugging at her with invisible fingers.

“There is little chance you’ll ever see us again, Catalina Ross, but we will forever be in your debt. If you have need, find the darkest shadow you can and call for me.”

Catalina swallowed past the sudden thickness in her throat. “I will,” she managed. “Good luck changing the council.”

Lura winked and took Sydney’s place by Maiele’s side. 

“Are you re—” Catalina began. But the look on Sydney’s face turned her words to ash.

Tears welled in Sydney’s eyes. Tears of sorrow, but also of joy. “I’m staying here, Lina.”

“Are… are you sure?” She had to ask, even though in her heart she already knew the answer.

Sydney threw herself into Catalina’s arms, squeezing her tight for a long moment before releasing her and stepping away. “I’ll miss you. I’ll find a way to keep in touch, I promise.”

“But… what about your parents?” And her own parents, Catalina realized, who would certainly go ballistic if Sydney disappeared on their watch. They must already be mad with worry, with both Catalina and Sydney gone for over twenty-four hours.

Lura seemed to understand perfectly. “Time is strange on the shadowpaths. They can return you to the moment of your choosing, ideally just after Lynnoria sent you here. And as for Sydney, don’t worry, we’ll handle everything.”

The cloak tugged at Catalina’s neck, pulling her from the circle.

“It’s time,” Lura said, and gave Catalina one last smile. “Don’t forget to focus on where-and when-you want to end up. I’d recommend aiming for no longer than an hour after Lynnoria sent you on your way.”

The inky shadows swirled around her and Catalina fell into darkness, but not before Sydney gave her one last smile, her face alight with joy.

Epilogue.

Catalina slung her bag over one shoulder and hoisted herself up the treehouse ladder. Halfway up, she paused, surveying how the evening sun gilded the tree’s golden brown leaves, half-expecting the light to flicker away, casting her world into shadow. After a moment, where nothing happened other than her fingers growing stiff from clutching the ladder too fiercely, Catalina’s lips pressed into a grimace and she pushed herself to the top of the ladder.

It was too much to hope that today would be the day Sydney would finally show up. Catalina had been dutifully climbing the ladder day after day without fail, ever since she’d found the hastily scrawled note pinned to the treehouse wall. 

Meet me when sun and shadow come together as equals. -S

Could Sydney be any more cryptic?

But Catalina wouldn’t risk missing her, so she’d spent every free moment huddled in the small treehouse, waiting for that telltale shimmer as the shadows shifted and bent, reforming into a path.

But nearly a week had passed and there was still no sign of her friend.

Catalina ducked her head inside the treehouse door and, finding it empty, heaved a sigh and settled in to wait.

As often happened when she had nothing to distract her mind, she found herself replaying the night she’d returned from Starkhaven. After stumbling through the twisting shadow paths she’d finally tumbled into the moonlit confines of her treehouse. Lynnoria lay there, as pale as death. Hands shaking, Catalina had shredded the haelmarrow and stuffed it bit by bit into the fairy’s mouth, forcing her to chew and swallow. Thankfully, within minutes Lynnoria had sat upright and shakily declared herself well enough to return to her realm, where access to stronger magic would finish the healing process. Catalina had wrapped the magical cloak around Lynnoria’s shoulders and bid her farewell before giving in to her exhaustion. 

When she’d woken the next morning, stiff from sleeping on the crooked floor all night, she’d rubbed her bleary eyes and decided the entire thing had been a dream. 

A very vivid, very strange dream.

She’d almost convinced herself when she’d spied a stray haelmarrow leaf lying on the floor. Reality and fantasy coalesced inside her brain, causing the world to spin as she realized that her life would never, ever be the same.

Tearing her mind back to the present she rummaged through the bag she’d packed for Sydney. It hadn’t been easy to fit everything she’d wanted to in the small bag. It was hard to know what exactly Sydney might want most—after all, she couldn’t just run to the local mall to pick things up. In the end Catalina had settled for a few graphic novels (in case fairies didn’t read that sort of thing), a pack of Oreos, two shades of a really sparkly lip gloss, a recent edition of the New York Times (in case she wanted to know what was happening on Earth), some toiletries, and, most importantly, a heavy book with the words The Encyclopedia of Faeries and Other Mythical Creatures swirled across the cover in golden lettering. Catalina tugged the book out and traced her finger along the illustration of a fairy flying above a cluster of red and white mushrooms, smiling to herself. 

It was incredible how close the book could come to describing the world of fairies, while still being completely wrong. Take those flower petal dresses—Catalina hadn’t seen a single creature dressed like that. And there weren’t many giant red mushrooms either. 

Not that she’d really seen much of Starkhaven. She’d been there for such a short time and she had spent most of it trying to survive during the competition. 

But what she had seen had been amazing, in some ways similar to Earth, and yet so very, very different. And it had set her to thinking…

If Starkhaven really had once lay in the middle of the Pacific ocean—before whatever tragic accident plunged it into the shadow realm—then the plants and creatures of Starkhaven might share common ancestry with species on earth. After all, the haelmarrow leaf, which she had pressed between the pages of her dictionary, looked suspiciously like the leaves of the medicinal echinacea that grew in her mother’s garden. 

And that’s when she had the idea.

She’d publish her own book: The Factual Encyclopedia of Fairies, as Witnessed by a Human Girl. 

Well, the title needed work. But she’d already started writing her memories, of the plants she’d seen and animals she’d noticed. Of the shadows. And most importantly, of the fairies. 

The thing was, in order to really do the book justice, Catalina would need a lot more than the leaf of one plant. 

And that’s where Sydney came in.

Unfortunately, she hadn’t been able to do more than pass a few brief messages to her friend. According to Lynnoria, who’d shown up without warning a handful of times in the last few weeks, Sydney was neck-deep in “shadow comprehension” training with Maiele, whatever that was supposed to mean.

Lynnoria was, not surprisingly, annoyingly vague on the subject. Even when Catalina pointed out that as shadow sisters she had a right to know. To which Lynnoria burst into laughter before disappearing back to Starkhaven.

At least Lynnoria, as fickle and annoying as she might be, had returned to reassure Catalina that not only was Sydney doing just fine, all of their help had ultimately been worth it. Supposedly the council had shifted drastically thanks to the addition of Lynnoria and Eventine’s family. And while Catalina was glad to hear it, and even more glad that Lynnoria seemed to have completely recovered from the mysterious injury that had started the whole mess off in the first place—a story she was determined to pry out of her shadowsister at some point—all she really wanted to know was how Sydney was really holding up.

And if she was ready to come home.

Not that there was much of a home to return to. Her mother had moved out of town, supposedly at Lynnoria’s bidding. Somehow the Fae had charmed Sydney’s mom into thinking that she’d sent Sydney off to some fancy boarding school. Then their house had gone on the market and soon enough Sydney’s mom was gone and a new family moved in, with twin boys a year older than Catalina. 

She still found it strange to see them playing basketball in the driveway when she rode past on her bike. And a small piece of her wondered where Sydney would go, should she ever decide to leave Starkhaven.

But that was a question for another day. 

Catalina tucked fairy encyclopedia back in the backpack and heaved a sigh. The sun had gone from orange to deep red as it slid toward the horizon. She was just readying herself to head inside for dinner when the branches of the tree seemed to stretch, reaching for her. 

Not the branches, she realized. 

Their shadows.

Then the world tilted. And when it righted itself she turned, and let out a muffled cry. 

There, inside the treehouse, gleamed a halo of golden-red hair.

And as she launched herself through the open door, an achingly familiar voice whispered, “Hello Lina.”