The Day Everything Changed

Kael had never been good at keeping secrets.

Not because he deliberately told people things.

He simply had a face that betrayed him.

When he was nervous, he touched the back of his neck.

When he lied, he looked slightly to the left.

And when he was hiding something important—

apparently, he became incapable of eating breakfast normally.

His mother noticed immediately.

“Kael.”

He stopped halfway through lifting a piece of bread to his mouth.

“Yes?”

She stood across the small kitchen table, arms folded.

“What did you do?”

Kael blinked.

“Nothing.”

Her eyes narrowed.

Kael looked slightly to the left.

His mother sighed.

“You are a terrible liar.”

“I’m not lying.”

“You looked at the window.”

“I like the window.”

“Kael.”

He lowered the bread.

His mother, Elara, had always possessed an irritating ability to know when something was wrong.

She was in her late thirties, with dark-brown hair tied loosely behind her head and tired but kind eyes.

Usually, Kael found that comforting.

Today—

it was terrifying.

She placed a wooden cup in front of him.

“You’ve barely spoken since you came home yesterday.”

“I was tired.”

“You came home with a bent sword.”

Kael froze.

Elara pointed toward the weapon leaning beside the door.

“Would you like to explain that?”

Kael swallowed.

“Training.”

“With Lyra?”

“Yes.”

“Lyra bent your sword?”

“…Yes?”

Elara stared.

Kael looked left.

Again.

She slowly sat across from him.

“What happened?”

Kael remembered his promise.

No one else.

Not until he and Lyra understood what was happening.

He forced himself to meet his mother’s eyes.

“I hit a tree.”

“A tree.”

“Yes.”

“With the flat of your sword.”

Kael hesitated.

“How did you know it was the flat?”

Elara paused.

Only for a moment.

Then—

“Because if you had struck hard enough with the edge to bend the blade that badly, you would have damaged the tree.”

Kael frowned.

That explanation made sense.

Mostly.

His mother looked toward the sword.

Something strange passed across her face.

Concern.

Not the ordinary concern of a mother whose son had ruined a weapon.

Something deeper.

Fear.

Kael noticed.

“Mom?”

Her eyes immediately returned to him.

“What?”

“You look worried.”

“I am worried.”

“About the sword?”

“Yes.”

Too quickly.

Kael leaned back.

“You’re doing the thing.”

“What thing?”

“The thing where you answer too quickly.”

Elara’s expression hardened.

“I don’t have a thing.”

“You absolutely have a thing.”

“Eat your breakfast.”

Kael stared at her.

She stared back.

The conversation was over.

Apparently.

Kael reluctantly took another bite.

His mother looked away.

And when she thought he wasn’t watching—

her hand tightened around the edge of the table.

Across the village, Lyra was having a similar morning.

Except hers was worse.

“You’re injured.”

“I’m not.”

Her father stood in the doorway to her room.

Lyra sat on the edge of her bed.

“I saw you limping yesterday.”

“I stepped badly.”

“And your shoulder?”

“Fine.”

Her father, Darian, didn’t move.

Lyra sighed.

“See?”

She rotated her shoulder.

No pain.

No stiffness.

Nothing.

Darian’s expression changed.

“What?”

Lyra immediately realized her mistake.

“Nothing.”

“You were hurt yesterday.”

“A little.”

“How badly?”

“I don’t know.”

“Lyra.”

She looked away.

Her father entered the room and closed the door behind him.

Darian was tall and broad-shouldered, with dark auburn hair beginning to gray near the temples. He had once served as a scout for the kingdom before settling in Larkspur.

He had taught Lyra how to use a bow.

How to track.

How to move through a forest without announcing herself to everything within half a mile.

And most importantly—

how to recognize when someone was hiding something.

Unfortunately, Lyra had inherited the same skill.

“You’re worried,” she said.

Darian stopped.

“Of course I’m worried.”

“No.”

Lyra studied him.

“You’re scared.”

His face became still.

For a moment, neither spoke.

Then Darian looked toward the window.

“What happened yesterday?”

Lyra remembered Kael’s golden eyes.

The impossible speed.

The bent sword.

Her own shoulder healing before their eyes.

“Nothing.”

Her father looked at her.

Lyra maintained eye contact.

Unlike Kael—

she was good at lying.

Usually.

Darian walked closer.

“Lyra.”

“Dad.”

“If something unusual happened—”

Her heartbeat quickened.

“Unusual?”

He stopped.

Lyra watched him carefully.

Something in his wording bothered her.

Not dangerous.

Not bad.

Unusual.

As though he was expecting something.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

Darian seemed to realize his mistake.

“Anything.”

“That’s vague.”

“You know what I mean.”

“No.”

Silence.

Lyra stood.

“You’re hiding something.”

Darian’s eyes narrowed.

“So are you.”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

“Because I asked first.”

Against all reason, he almost smiled.

Almost.

Then his expression became serious again.

“Stay close to the village today.”

Lyra frowned.

“Why?”

“Because I said so.”

“That isn’t an answer.”

“It’s the answer you’re getting.”

Lyra crossed her arms.

“I’m sixteen.”

“And?”

“And you can’t just tell me not to go somewhere without explaining why.”

“I believe I just did.”

“That was not an explanation.”

Darian opened the door.

“Stay close to the village.”

“Dad.”

He stopped without turning.

Lyra saw his hand gripping the doorframe.

“Please.”

That single word changed everything.

Her father rarely said it like that.

Lyra’s anger faded.

“What’s wrong?”

Darian looked back.

For a moment, it seemed like he might tell her.

Then—

“Nothing.”

And he left.

Lyra stared at the closed door.

“That was convincing.”

By midmorning, Kael and Lyra were sitting at their training ground.

Neither was training.

Kael sat on the broken stone wall.

Lyra stood in front of him.

“You told your mother nothing?”

“Yes.”

“And she believed you?”

“No.”

“I’m shocked.”

Kael frowned.

“You?”

“My father knows something is wrong.”

“How?”

“He asked whether anything unusual happened.”

Kael’s expression changed.

“Unusual?”

“Exactly.”

“You think he knows?”

“I think he knows something.”

Kael looked toward Larkspur.

“So does my mother.”

Lyra sat beside him.

For a while, neither spoke.

Yesterday, the idea that their families might know something had seemed ridiculous.

Today—

not so much.

Kael picked up a small stone and turned it between his fingers.

“What if they’ve known this whole time?”

“Known what?”

“That we’re…”

He stopped.

Lyra glanced at him.

“We don’t even know what we are.”

Kael sighed.

“That’s somehow worse.”

Lyra leaned back.

“We need information.”

“From where?”

“The village records?”

“Those are mostly taxes and property disputes.”

“The temple?”

“Birth records?”

Lyra looked at him.

Kael straightened.

“Our births.”

“Exactly.”

“If something happened when we were born…”

“There might be a record.”

Kael considered this.

“The temple keeper won’t let us read those.”

Lyra smiled.

Kael immediately disliked that smile.

“No.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You were about to suggest something illegal.”

“Borrowing.”

“That is not what borrowing means.”

“If we return it.”

“No.”

Lyra stood.

“Fine.”

Kael relaxed.

“We’ll ask.”

She stared at him.

“You really think Keeper Halden is going to let two sixteen-year-olds inspect sealed birth records?”

“We can be persuasive.”

“You once asked him whether gods get bored during sermons.”

“I was nine.”

“You also asked whether holy water tastes different.”

“I was curious.”

“You drank it.”

“It tasted like water.”

Lyra covered her face.

“I can’t believe I trust you with a secret.”

Kael stood.

“You chose me.”

“I was five.”

“Poor judgment starts young.”

She shoved him lightly.

Kael grinned.

For a few seconds, everything felt normal again.

Then Lyra’s expression changed.

She was looking past him.

Toward the road.

“Someone’s coming.”

Kael turned.

A rider approached Larkspur from the south.

Gray horse.

Gray cloak.

No banner.

Nothing remarkable.

Except—

Kael recognized the cloak.

His stomach tightened.

“The man from yesterday.”

Lyra looked at him.

“You saw him?”

“In the square.”

“When?”

“After we came back.”

“You didn’t tell me.”

“I thought he was a traveler.”

Lyra’s eyes followed the rider.

“Maybe he is.”

Kael wasn’t convinced.

The rider entered Larkspur.

They watched from the hill.

He did not head toward the inn.

He went directly toward the village hall.

Lyra stood.

“Come on.”

“Where?”

“To find out who he is.”

Kael sighed.

“This is why we get into trouble.”

“And yet you’re following me.”

Kael looked at his feet.

He was already walking.

“I hate that you’re right.”

The stranger’s name was Ser Aldren Vale.

At least—

that was the name he gave.

Kael and Lyra learned it by listening outside the village hall.

Or, more accurately—

Lyra listened.

Kael crouched beside her beneath an open window.

“I can’t hear anything,” he whispered.

Lyra raised one finger.

Inside, the village elder spoke.

“…unexpected visit, Ser Vale.”

“Forgive me.”

The stranger’s voice was calm.

“I was passing through when I received word of unusual animal activity near Larkspur.”

Kael and Lyra looked at each other.

Lyra continued listening.

“Wolves approaching people. An injured boar behaving aggressively.”

The elder sighed.

“The forest has been unsettled lately.”

“Any attacks?”

“One yesterday.”

Kael’s stomach dropped.

The hunter.

Tomas.

Aldren continued.

“I was told two local youths intervened.”

Lyra’s eyes widened.

Kael silently mouthed—

Us.

She nodded.

Inside—

“The Fenwick boy?” the elder asked.

“No. Kael Arden and Lyra Fen.”

Kael frowned.

“How does he know our names?” he whispered.

Lyra shook her head.

The elder answered.

“They’re good children.”

“I’m sure.”

Something about Aldren’s tone made Kael uncomfortable.

“May I speak with them?”

The elder hesitated.

“Why?”

“To understand what happened.”

Silence.

Then—

“I don’t see why not.”

Lyra grabbed Kael’s sleeve.

They quietly backed away from the window.

Kael whispered—

“We should leave.”

“Agreed.”

They turned.

And nearly collided with a woman carrying a basket.

She stared at them.

Kael smiled.

“Morning.”

Her eyes moved toward the window.

Then back to them.

Lyra smiled too.

“We dropped something.”

The woman looked at the empty ground.

“What?”

Lyra grabbed Kael.

“Found it.”

They walked away quickly.

Kael whispered—

“That was terrible.”

“She believed me.”

“She absolutely did not.”

By lunchtime, everyone knew a knight had arrived.

That was how Larkspur worked.

Secrets had approximately the life expectancy of a snowflake in summer.

Kael and Lyra sat outside the bakery.

Kael tore a piece from a warm loaf.

Lyra stared across the square.

Aldren stood beside the fountain speaking with the village elder.

Without the riding cloak covering him, his clothes were easier to see.

Dark leather armor beneath a gray coat.

A sword at his hip.

No crest.

No visible allegiance.

Kael took another bite.

“He doesn’t look like a knight.”

“What does a knight look like?”

“Shinier.”

Lyra glanced at him.

“Shinier.”

“Armor. Cape. Dramatic horse.”

“He has a horse.”

“Not dramatic enough.”

Lyra shook her head.

Then Aldren looked directly at them.

Kael stopped chewing.

Lyra’s posture stiffened.

Aldren smiled.

Not warmly.

Not threateningly.

Simply—

knowingly.

Then he began walking toward them.

Kael swallowed.

“I think we should run.”

“That would look suspicious.”

“I’m comfortable looking suspicious from far away.”

“Too late.”

Aldren stopped in front of them.

“Kael Arden?”

Kael slowly lowered the bread.

“Yes.”

“Lyra Fen?”

Lyra nodded.

Aldren smiled.

“Ser Aldren Vale.”

“We heard,” Lyra said.

Kael looked at her.

Aldren did too.

Lyra recovered instantly.

“People talk.”

“They certainly do.”

Aldren sat on the edge of the fountain opposite them.

“I understand you encountered a boar yesterday.”

Kael nodded.

“It ran away.”

“So I’m told.”

His eyes moved toward the sword at Kael’s hip.

The bent sword.

Kael wished he had left it home.

“That happened during training,” he said quickly.

Aldren raised one eyebrow.

“I didn’t ask.”

Kael touched the back of his neck.

Lyra noticed.

So did Aldren.

Wonderful.

The knight leaned forward slightly.

“What happened in the forest?”

Lyra answered before Kael could.

“The boar charged Tomas.”

“You intervened.”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“I shot it.”

“And Kael?”

“He distracted it.”

Aldren looked at Kael.

“With that sword?”

“Yes.”

“Interesting.”

Kael forced himself not to look left.

Aldren’s gaze lingered on him.

Then on Lyra.

“Did either of you notice anything unusual?”

Their hearts seemed to stop together.

Lyra answered calmly.

“Besides an enormous angry boar?”

Aldren smiled faintly.

“Anything.”

“No.”

Kael said nothing.

Aldren turned toward him.

“And you?”

“No.”

His eyes moved left.

Kael internally cursed himself.

Aldren’s expression did not change.

“Good.”

He stood.

“Then I won’t keep you.”

That was it.

No accusation.

No interrogation.

No threat.

Somehow—

that made it worse.

As Aldren walked away, Lyra whispered—

“He knows we lied.”

Kael stared at his bread.

“I know.”

“How?”

“I’m bad at this.”

“You are unbelievably bad at this.”

“Thank you.”

“That wasn’t praise.”

“I know.”

Aldren spent the afternoon asking questions.

The hunter.

Master Rowan.

Mara Fenwick.

Even the storyteller who had passed through the previous day.

Kael and Lyra watched from a distance.

By evening, their concern had become fear.

“He’s investigating us,” Kael said.

They stood behind the blacksmith’s workshop.

Lyra shook her head.

“We don’t know that.”

“He asked Rowan how strong I am.”

“How do you know?”

“His apprentice told me.”

Lyra frowned.

“What else?”

“Mara told him about the branch.”

“The orchard?”

“Yes.”

Lyra looked away.

“That’s bad.”

“Very.”

She paced.

“Maybe he thinks you’re using magic.”

“I don’t know magic.”

“He doesn’t know that.”

Kael lowered his voice.

“What if magic is what’s happening?”

Lyra stopped.

Neither had considered that seriously.

Magic existed.

They had seen small spells before.

Healing charms.

Weather wards.

Enchanted tools.

But people usually needed training.

Runes.

Incantations.

Something.

Kael had none of that.

Neither did Lyra.

“We should leave it alone,” Lyra finally said.

Kael stared.

“You’re saying that?”

“Yes.”

“Who are you?”

She ignored him.

“We keep quiet. Act normal.”

“Can we do normal?”

“You more than me, apparently.”

Kael frowned.

“What does that mean?”

Before she could answer—

the village bell rang.

Once.

A deep sound.

GONG.

Kael looked toward the square.

“That isn’t the evening bell.”

Lyra’s face changed.

A second strike came.

GONG.

Then a third.

Three bells.

Danger.

People poured from houses.

A guard ran through the street.

“Everyone inside!”

“What happened?” someone shouted.

“Forest creatures!”

“How many?”

“Too many!”

Kael and Lyra looked toward the northern gate.

Screaming erupted.

Then—

CRASH!

Something struck the wooden palisade.

The entire gate shook.

Kael reached for his sword.

Lyra grabbed his wrist.

“No.”

He looked at her.

“Our secret.”

Another impact.

CRASH!

A guard shouted—

“The gate won’t hold!”

Lyra stared toward the noise.

Children were being pulled into houses.

Villagers ran through the square.

Kael looked at her.

“We can’t just stand here.”

Lyra clenched her jaw.

“I know.”

They ran.

The northern gate exploded inward.

Wooden beams shattered.

A massive creature charged through.

Kael had never seen anything like it.

It resembled a wolf—

if a wolf had been made from nightmare and shadow.

Nearly the size of a horse.

Black fur.

Bone-like ridges along its spine.

Eyes glowing pale blue.

Behind it came more.

Five.

Ten.

No—

more.

Villagers screamed.

Guards formed a line.

“Spears!”

The creatures attacked.

The first guard was knocked aside.

Another drove a spear into a beast’s shoulder.

It barely reacted.

Kael drew his sword.

Lyra nocked an arrow.

“Kael.”

“I know.”

“No strange strength.”

“I’ll try.”

“No golden eyes.”

“I’m not doing that intentionally.”

“Good point.”

One creature leaped toward a woman trying to carry a child away.

Lyra fired.

THUNK!

The arrow struck its neck.

The beast twisted toward her.

“Great,” Lyra muttered.

It charged.

Kael stepped forward.

He swung carefully.

Too carefully.

The creature slammed into him.

Kael hit the ground.

“Kael!”

“I’m fine!”

He rolled away as claws tore through the dirt beside his head.

Lyra fired again.

The creature staggered.

Kael rose.

He felt the heat beginning.

Inside his chest.

He forced it down.

Not here.

Not with everyone watching.

He struck the creature across the jaw.

Normal strength.

Or close enough.

The beast reeled.

Lyra drove another arrow into its side.

It finally collapsed.

Kael breathed hard.

“That was one.”

Lyra looked toward the gate.

At least a dozen more remained.

“Fantastic.”

Ser Aldren Vale entered the battle.

Kael saw him draw his sword.

The blade was strange.

Silver-white metal covered in thin black markings.

When Aldren swung—

one of the creatures split open across the chest.

Black smoke poured from the wound.

Lyra stared.

“That isn’t a normal sword.”

“No.”

Aldren moved efficiently.

No wasted motion.

He cut through another beast.

Then another.

Kael suddenly understood.

Whatever Aldren truly was—

he had hunted monsters before.

Many times.

The guards began pushing the creatures back.

Then something enormous appeared beyond the broken gate.

Lyra whispered—

“Oh, come on.”

A second beast emerged.

Larger than the rest.

Its shoulders nearly touched the gatehouse beams.

Three pale eyes opened across its face.

A deep growl rolled through the village.

Several guards backed away.

Aldren did not.

“Everyone clear the square!”

The creature lunged.

Aldren raised his sword.

Their collision sent him backward.

He hit the stone fountain.

Hard.

Kael’s eyes widened.

“Aldren!”

The monster turned.

Its three eyes fixed upon a group of children trapped near a fallen wagon.

Kael stopped thinking.

Again.

He ran.

Lyra shouted something behind him.

He didn’t hear it.

The heat returned.

Stronger than before.

His heart hammered.

The world slowed.

The creature raised one enormous claw.

Kael reached the children.

“MOVE!”

He shoved the wagon aside.

Not pushed.

Shoved.

The heavy wooden cart slid several feet across the square.

Everyone nearby saw it.

Kael froze.

Too late.

The monster attacked.

Kael raised his bent sword.

The claw struck.

CLANG!

The blade snapped.

Half of it spun through the air.

Kael stared at the broken weapon.

The creature struck again.

He lifted his arm instinctively.

Claws tore across his sleeve.

Pain burned through him.

Lyra screamed—

“KAEL!”

Something changed.

Not in Kael.

In Lyra.

Her arrow slipped from her fingers.

Her amber eyes brightened.

For a fraction of a second—

they became molten gold.

She ran.

Too fast.

A blur of dark-red hair crossed the square.

She reached Kael.

Grabbed him.

Pulled him away as the monster’s claws smashed into the ground.

Kael stared at her.

“Lyra…”

She stared back.

Neither had time to speak.

The creature turned toward them.

Kael felt something rising inside his throat.

Hotter than anything before.

He coughed.

Smoke escaped his mouth.

Lyra’s eyes widened.

“Kael?”

He covered his mouth.

The monster charged.

Kael’s fear vanished.

Replaced by something else.

Instinct.

Ancient.

Violent.

Protect.

The word was not spoken.

It simply existed inside him.

Kael stepped in front of Lyra.

His eyes burned gold.

The creature stopped.

Every smaller beast in the square stopped too.

Silence fell.

One by one—

their ears lowered.

Their bodies sank closer to the ground.

Kael stared at them.

A growl formed inside his chest.

Too deep.

Too powerful to belong to a human.

The largest monster whimpered.

Kael’s breath caught.

For a single instant—

behind him, Lyra thought she saw something.

A shadow stretching across the stones.

Not Kael’s shadow.

Something with horns.

And wings.

Then it disappeared.

The creatures turned.

Every one of them fled through the northern gate.

No one moved.

Kael’s eyes returned to brown.

He looked around.

Villagers stared at him.

Guards stared at him.

Children stared at him.

Lyra stared at him.

And across the square—

Ser Aldren Vale slowly stood.

His expression had changed completely.

The silver disk beneath his coat was glowing red.

No one spoke for several seconds.

Then voices erupted.

“What happened?”

“Why did they run?”

“Did you see his eyes?”

“He moved the wagon!”

“What was that sound?”

Kael stepped backward.

His breathing became uneven.

Lyra grabbed his hand.

“We need to go.”

Aldren approached.

“Kael.”

They stopped.

His voice was calm.

Too calm.

Kael turned.

Aldren’s eyes moved toward Kael’s torn sleeve.

Then toward Lyra.

“You’re injured.”

Kael looked down.

Four claw marks crossed his forearm.

Blood ran along his skin.

“I’m fine.”

“No,” Aldren said.

“You’re not.”

The knight reached into his coat.

Kael tensed.

Aldren removed the silver disk.

Its engraved symbol glowed faintly red.

Kael stared at it.

“What is that?”

Aldren ignored the question.

He brought the disk closer.

The glow intensified.

Lyra stepped between them.

“Stay away from him.”

Aldren looked at her.

Then the disk.

It reacted to her too.

Brighter.

His face became grim.

“No.”

Lyra frowned.

“What?”

Aldren whispered—

“That can’t be possible.”

Kael’s heart pounded.

“What can’t?”

Aldren looked at both of them.

For the first time since arriving in Larkspur—

he looked afraid.

“Where were you born?”

Kael frowned.

“Here.”

Lyra answered at the same time.

“Larkspur.”

Aldren’s eyes narrowed.

“Who told you that?”

Silence.

Kael felt cold despite the heat still lingering beneath his skin.

“Our parents.”

Aldren looked toward the houses beyond the square.

Then back at them.

“Go home.”

Lyra did not move.

“Why?”

“Now.”

“What is happening?”

Aldren’s hand tightened around the disk.

“Go home and stay there.”

Kael stepped forward.

“You know something.”

Aldren’s expression hardened.

“You don’t want the answer.”

“That isn’t your decision.”

For a second, Kael thought Aldren might tell him.

Instead—

the knight looked toward the villagers.

Too many people were watching.

“Go.”

Lyra pulled Kael away.

This time—

he followed.

Kael’s mother was waiting when he reached home.

She saw his torn sleeve.

The blood.

The broken sword.

Then she saw his face.

Her expression collapsed.

“What happened?”

Kael closed the door behind him.

“Mom.”

She approached.

“You’re hurt.”

“It’s not bad.”

“Let me see.”

She grabbed his arm.

Then froze.

The claw marks were already closing.

Slowly.

But visibly.

Kael saw her notice.

Neither spoke.

Elara’s face went white.

Kael stared at her.

“You knew.”

She released him.

“Kael…”

“You knew.”

“No.”

“Don’t.”

His voice broke slightly.

“Don’t lie to me.”

Elara looked toward the window.

Kael stepped closer.

“Ser Aldren asked where I was born.”

Her eyes snapped toward him.

“He asked what?”

“He has some kind of silver disk. It reacted to me.”

Elara’s breathing changed.

“And Lyra.”

His mother closed her eyes.

“No…”

Kael had never seen her look this frightened.

Not once.

“What is happening to me?”

Elara said nothing.

“Mom.”

Silence.

“Why am I stronger than I should be?”

Her hands trembled.

“Why don’t I burn?”

“Kael—”

“Why did my eyes turn gold?”

She looked at him sharply.

Kael’s fear deepened.

“You knew that could happen.”

“No.”

“But you recognize it.”

Elara backed away.

Kael followed.

“Tell me.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Because—”

She stopped.

A knock struck the door.

Both froze.

Three slow knocks.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

Elara’s face lost all color.

Kael looked toward the door.

“Who is that?”

His mother whispered—

“Go upstairs.”

“What?”

“Now.”

“Mom—”

“Kael.”

She grabbed his shoulders.

For the first time in his life—

his mother looked genuinely terrified.

“Go to your room. Close the door. Do not come out unless I tell you.”

Kael stared.

“Why?”

Another knock.

Elara whispered—

“Please.”

Kael slowly stepped backward.

He moved toward the stairs.

His mother waited until he disappeared around the corner.

Then she opened the door.

Ser Aldren Vale stood outside.

His gray cloak covered most of his armor.

The silver disk rested in one hand.

Elara stared at it.

Aldren stared at her.

For several seconds—

neither spoke.

Then he said:

“You knew.”

Elara’s jaw tightened.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Do not insult me.”

Aldren held up the disk.

“It reacted to both of them.”

Kael crouched on the stairs above.

His heart pounded.

Both of them.

Lyra.

His mother whispered—

“They are children.”

Aldren’s expression did not change.

“That doesn’t change what they are.”

Kael stopped breathing.

What they are.

Elara stepped outside and pulled the door nearly closed behind her.

Kael could barely hear them.

He moved down one step.

Aldren’s voice came quietly.

“The Order will come.”

“No.”

“You know the law.”

“They haven’t done anything.”

“You saw what happened today.”

“They saved people.”

“That is not what matters.”

“It should be.”

Aldren was silent.

Elara continued—

“Please.”

“The signal has already been sent.”

Kael’s blood went cold.

“What signal?” Elara whispered.

Aldren looked toward the northern road.

“The Ashen Order knows something awakened in Larkspur.”

Elara stared at him.

“How long?”

“Maybe a day.”

“No…”

“Perhaps less.”

Kael gripped the stair railing.

The Ashen Order.

He remembered the storyteller.

Dragon hunters.

Crimson scales bring crimson ruin.

His mother whispered—

“You can stop them.”

“No.”

“You can lie.”

“I already have.”

Elara looked at him.

Aldren continued:

“I reported an uncertain reading. I bought you time.”

“Why?”

Aldren’s face hardened.

“Because I watched those children save this village.”

He looked toward the closed door.

“But when the others arrive, that will not matter.”

Elara’s voice became barely audible.

“What will they do?”

Aldren answered:

“You know exactly what they will do.”

Kael’s hand tightened around the railing.

His mother closed her eyes.

Aldren stepped back.

“If there is anything you have not told them…”

He looked directly toward the upstairs window.

“…tell them tonight.”

Then he turned and walked away.

At the same time, Lyra stood inside her home.

Her father had locked every door.

Closed every curtain.

And taken an old wooden chest from beneath the floorboards.

Lyra stared.

“I’ve never seen that before.”

Darian said nothing.

He opened it.

Inside rested a folded black cloak.

Several small bottles.

A map.

Two daggers.

And a strange metal pendant.

Lyra stepped closer.

“What is all this?”

Her father removed the pendant.

It was shaped like a curled wing.

Lyra’s chest suddenly became warm.

She recoiled.

Darian immediately covered the pendant.

His worst fear confirmed.

Lyra stared at him.

“You knew too.”

He closed his eyes.

“Lyra…”

“What am I?”

Darian looked at his daughter.

His expression was filled with guilt.

“Someone I hoped would never have to ask that question.”

Her anger rose.

“That isn’t an answer.”

“No.”

“Then give me one.”

He looked toward the window.

The evening sun had begun to set.

Time was disappearing.

Finally—

Darian spoke.

“Pack clothes.”

Lyra stared.

“What?”

“Your bow. Your sword. Food. Water. Nothing you cannot carry.”

“Why?”

“We’re leaving Larkspur.”

Her heart stopped.

“Leaving?”

“Tonight.”

“No.”

Darian looked at her.

“Lyra.”

“No! I am not going anywhere until someone tells me what is happening!”

Her voice shook.

“You and Kael’s mother have been hiding something from us.”

Darian froze at Kael’s name.

Lyra noticed.

“You know about him too.”

Silence.

“You do.”

Darian looked away.

Lyra’s breathing became harder.

“What are we?”

Her father said nothing.

“Are we cursed?”

“No.”

“Are we sick?”

“No.”

“Then what?”

Darian’s hand tightened around the pendant.

Outside—

a distant horn sounded.

One long note.

Then two short ones.

Darian went completely still.

Lyra looked toward the window.

“What was that?”

Her father moved immediately.

“Pack.”

“Dad—”

“NOW!”

Lyra had never heard him shout like that.

She stepped back.

Darian grabbed the black cloak and threw it around his shoulders.

Then he took the two daggers.

Lyra’s fear finally overwhelmed her anger.

“Who’s coming?”

Her father looked at her.

And this time—

he answered.

“The people who will kill you if they learn what you are.”

Night fell over Larkspur.

Kael stood in his bedroom.

A travel bag lay open across his bed.

His mother had finally told him to pack.

She still had not told him why.

Outside, villagers repaired the northern gate.

Lanterns moved through the streets.

Everything looked almost normal.

Almost.

Kael placed an extra shirt inside the bag.

His hands were shaking.

He looked toward his broken sword.

Half a blade.

Useless.

He picked it up anyway.

It had belonged to his father.

He could not leave it.

Kael wrapped the broken blade in cloth and placed it inside the bag.

Then—

a faint sound reached him.

Tap.

Kael looked toward the window.

Another sound.

Tap.

He opened it.

A pebble lay on the floor.

Kael looked down.

Lyra stood below.

Travel cloak.

Bow.

Sword.

Pack.

Her face was pale.

Kael immediately climbed out.

“You’re leaving?”

“So are you.”

He stared at her.

“How do you know?”

“My father.”

Kael looked toward his house.

“My mother talked to Aldren.”

“What did he say?”

“The Ashen Order is coming.”

Lyra went still.

Kael swallowed.

“He said they know something awakened here.”

Lyra whispered—

“Something.”

Kael nodded.

“Us.”

Neither spoke.

For the first time—

the truth was no longer something distant.

Whatever Kael and Lyra were—

someone was coming for them.

Lyra looked toward the northern road.

“What do we do?”

Kael looked at her.

Yesterday, he would have made a joke.

She would have insulted him.

They would have argued.

Then they would have gone home.

Tonight—

home suddenly felt temporary.

“I don’t know.”

Lyra stepped closer.

Kael saw fear in her eyes.

Not the playful Lyra.

Not the stubborn Lyra.

Not the girl who always acted like she had an answer.

Just his oldest friend.

Scared.

Kael reached for her hand.

She took it.

“We stay together,” he said.

Lyra tightened her grip.

“No matter what?”

“No matter what.”

From somewhere beyond the village walls—

a horn sounded again.

This time closer.

Kael and Lyra turned toward it.

On the distant southern road, small points of white light appeared through the darkness.

Torches.

Many of them.

Horsemen.

Moving toward Larkspur.

Lyra whispered—

“Kael…”

He counted the lights.

Ten.

Twenty.

More.

At the front rode figures wearing pale-gray cloaks.

A black symbol marked each one.

A sword surrounded by ash-colored wings.

The Ashen Order.

Kael’s chest became hot.

Lyra’s heartbeat quickened.

Neither knew why the sight filled them with a fear deeper than anything they had felt before.

Instinct seemed to recognize the danger before their minds did.

The riders continued toward the village.

And for Kael and Lyra—

the ordinary days were over.