Freya

In the summer months, nights are filled with fireflies to guide you through the foliage of the forest. But in the depths of winter, slithers of moonlight bleed through the spiny, naked trees of the Dadun forest, casting a cool-toned glow across the path.

Ahead of me, Alaric follows the moonlight like some sort of guide. I stay strictly behind him as we venture further, my hands stretched out in front of me, anticipating the forcefield to interrupt each step that I take.

He is Kinjri, not a shifter. Years of living with the shifters has given him the ability to move more quietly through that forest than I can manage, but he is still no match for a shifter.

I hear Killian's voice in my head, urging me to watch my step, mocking me for each branch that crunches underfoot. I glance over my shoulder, almost expecting to see dark eyes staring back at me through the wiry trees. But only the dark trees greet me.

They're dead. Lei's voice floats through my mind, trying to infiltrate each corner of my memory.

With her voice, an ache fills my left side. It's all too familiar. I used to believe grief to be something you experience mentally. It took my father dying to learn the truth about grief and it's all encompassing nature.

No, I tell myself. No. You don't know that she's right. You can't let yourself think that.

But her voice does not go away, no matter how hard I resist it. It whispers through the breeze of the forest, bounces off the calls of the birds overhead.

Alaric stops moving in front of me, causing me to come to an abrupt halt. Turning his body sideways, he stares down at me, a peculiar look on his face.

I force a mask over my expression, but the way he looks at me does not change.

"Why did we stop?" I ask, earning myself a reprieve from his gaze as he turns to look out at the forest.

"Look in front of us. What do you see?"

I follow his gaze, scanning the treeline, then shrug. "More forest."

"Look closer, squint your eyes a little bit." I follow his instruction, my vision blurring. "Look in the slithers of light of the moon."

I'm about to give up when I notice the slight shimmer in the air, catching the light of the moon and traveling to the ground like a flash of light. Furrowing my brows, I open my eyes wide, staring at Alaric.

"You took me to the forcefield?"

He nods, eyes bright at my recognition. "Touch it."

"Are you trying to get me killed?"

"It won't hurt you."

"I already know that's a lie."

"Last time, you and Lei ran at it full force. It was only protecting itself when it let off that electric current. If you are gentle, you will only feel a slight resistance."

I hesitate, holding my hand back as my body aches in memory of how it felt to run full force into this thing. "Here," Alaric says, "I'll show you." Reaching out a hand, the forcefield shimmers at his touch, but resists any further movement.

"You mean it keeps you from passing through, too?"

He doesn't answer, dropping his hand.

"You asked me before how I tailor the forcefield to you and Lei specifically," he says. "That isn't possible."

"So you've trapped yourself in with us? What about the villagers? If they try to leave?"

"They will be able to." He reaches forward again, this time, his hand meeting no resistance, as if there's nothing there. This urges me to reach forward.

But while his hand stretches out till his arm is straight, mine is halted by the forcefield, a shimmer shooting to the ground as a tingling sensation fills my arm.

I examine Alaric's hand. "How..."

"Like I told you, from very young, Kinjri are taught to protect themselves and others from their gift," he says. "Each gift is different. I cannot design a forcefield for someone in particular, but I can choose to extend protection to people of my choosing, so my forcefield does not affect them."

"So Lei and I," I ask, "are the only two in the village undeserving of your protection?"

A smile tugs at his lips, but he does not bite at my remark.

"Come here a moment," he says, urging me forward with an outstretched hand. Noticing my hesitation, he reaches further. "I won't hurt you."

"You'll just let the forcefield do that for you," I mumble, putting my hand in his begrudgingly. His hand is as cold as my own, fingertips white as they wrap around my palm.

I watch as he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. When he opens them again, a glimmer makes them seem to glow in the darkness. "Now, try touching it."

With a shaky breath, I stretch my free hand back to the forcefield, anticipating the shimmer as I come into contact with it, the light tingle across my finger tips. But it doesn't come. My fingers stretch right through, as if there is no barrier at all.

My heart picks up. Escape alights in my mind as I stare at my outstretched hand. But before I can entertain the idea, Alaric releases my hand and the forcefield repels me with a small electric shock.

I hold my hand to my chest.

"You see?" he murmurs. "Learning to protect yourself, and others, is the most important thing a Kinjri can do."

"So... if I can control the cloud, that means I can somehow learn to protect people from it?"

"Start with yourself first, but technically, yes. You should be able to protect others, too."

The concept runs through my mind. I think of Casimir, of Killian on that mountain, a stabbing pain returning to my chest. If I'd known then how to control it, how to protect them, then none of this would've happened. Then I would be sure of their fates, not left hanging, wondering, hoping.

I turn to look at Alaric. His gaze is already on my face, dissecting my expression. When we first met, last night in the forest, he'd been cold and unfriendly. But in Hana's absence, there's less ice in his demeanor.

But I know better than to trust appearances. It's fooled me once before.

"And how do you suppose Hana's plan of world domination is going to play out if I learn to control the cloud?" I ask. "Who's to say that I won't just send it straight towards you all."

"You don't need to worry about us."

"Trust me, I don't."

He doesn't seem offended by my comment, blinking at me a few times before speaking. "All you need to worry about right now is learning to control yourself. Nothing else is your concern."

I grit my teeth together and look out towards the forcefield. Now that I know of its presence, it's easier to see the glimmer that catches in the streams of the moon's rays. I do not trust Alaric anymore than I trust Hana.

Their lack of concern that teaching me to control the cloud could backfire on them unnerves me. There's something they're not telling me, but as I stare at the flickering forcefield, the barriers to our escape, I'm reminded of my utter lack of options. Alaric is offering me the chance to not mercilessly cause the destruction of hundreds by accident. What I can't figure out is why he is entrapped in Hana's crew in the first place.

"What's in it for you?" I ask.

"What?"

"Hana's whole plan. Training me. Giving me the ability to control something that could seriously harm you."

"You won't harm me."

"You are surprisingly confident considering you are the reason I'm trapped here."

"Which means I am your only way out. If I died, my forcefield may remain until another of my bloodline disengaged it." His tone has shifted from jovial to more serious, his expression absent of any warmth. "And I hate to break it to you, but thanks to what your country did to mine, I don't have any family left."

I see the pain behind his eyes, the ache in his words. They are all too familiar, but I can't seem to look away. And though I want to shake him, to defend the innocent people in Elel, to scream at Hana and question their logic, the words stay lodged in my throat.

Because I know the anger that burns in the depth of grief. All-consuming. Obsessive. In the war between logic and grief, grief never loses.

I turn away from Alaric, staring down at the ground as the feeling threatens to overtake me.

"So," I ask, "teach me."

He raises his chin, a settled expression crossing his face as he rolls his shoulders back and starts talking. As he drones on, talking about the history of Kinjri, the magic behind their gifts, my mind wanders elsewhere.

Hana's people serve as a reminder of why I cannot succumb to the pull of grief.

I cannot entertain the idea that Killian and Casimir are gone, that we are trapped for good, that there is nothing we can do to stop her plan.

Because if I do, I will become just like them.