myself up off the bed. “God, I have a whole lot of saving to do,” I mutter, clutching onto my locket as I swing my legs over the bed. “One foot in front of the other, Gemma.” I take a deep breath and stand to my feet; I pad over to my dresser and open the top drawer, retrieving the Cornu Lepore. I hook it around my neck then tuck it and my locket down beneath the collar of my shirt.
I grab a pair of clean jeans and bump the drawer with my hip. I change into them and then pull my hair out of my face, before slipping my boots on. I look like I’m going into a battle and that’s exactly how I’m going to look at it because there are plenty of things that can go wrong. I may have to kick some ass and take charge, but hopefully not in the way I did in my dream.
I stop by Alex’s room and raid the drawer where I know he keeps his knives, taking a deep breath before I walk out, feeling the haunting memories pull at my heart. I’m going to make this right. Somehow. I just need to take it one step at a time.
Tucking the knife into my pocket, I head for the stairs. As I pass Aislin’s room, I hear this strange, low-pitched noise. I pause, listening carefully, but all I hear is silence. I’m about to leave when I hear a crash, like glass shattering, and it’s echoed by a shrill giggle.
Bending my elbow, I start to slide my fingers into my back pocket for the knife while I slowly push the door open. I flip the blade open as I step over the threshold and into the quiet room. The lights are off and the curtains are pulled shut, so the glow of the sun outside is muffled.
“Hello?” I ask, cautiously making my way into the room. “Is anyone in here?”
“Gemma,” someone says in a hushed whisper. “Gemma...”
My eyes quickly search the room; the bed, behind the room divider, to the side of the armoire. I have the knife aimed out in front of me, my legs crossing one over another as I move for the closet. Suddenly, the door behind me slams shut with so much force that a picture hanging on the wall falls to the floor and the frame breaks. I spin around just in time to spot a tiny, nubby creature scurrying. Sprites.
I dodge to my right, jumping out of its way, and bump the side of the dresser with my elbow, knocking a lamp to the ground.
“Ow!” I exclaim, rubbing my elbow as an eruption of giggles flutter through the room. “Real funny, you freakin' little gremlins.” I hate Sprites. Not only are they strange, abnormal-looking creatures, but their personalities and mischievousness are irritating.
I scan the room until I spot one standing on the bed, materializing pretty much out of nowhere. I start to make my way to it as it jumps on the bed, fluttering its wings, letting out giggle after giggle, unfazed by me.
Right as I reach the foot of the bed, I’m rammed from behind, the force slamming mostly against the back of my knees. Arms wrap around them and I jerk back, falling forward, as I slam face first into the floor. The knife shoots out from my fingers as I try to flip to my back. Rolling over, I lift my knee to kick it, but it has disappeared. I groan. This is the last thing I need. A bunch of giggling Sprites that want to play hide-and-seek-torture-Gemma.
I start to sit up, reaching for my knife when something cracks over the top of my head. I hear the sound of glass shattering and then I’m surrounded by broken pieces of the lamp. My head spins as the room starts to sway. I tip sideways, my vision spotting. The last thing I hear are giggles and then everything goes black.
***
I’m standing in front of a slender tunnel, smothered by darkness, but there’s a light glowing vividly at the end of it. I walk towards it with my hands to my side and my heart knocking inside my chest. As I get closer, I can hear voices that ring with familiarity.
When I reach the light and step into the warmth, the tunnel opens up, altering as it splits open and widens out into a room that has red walls decorated with metal lanterns.