Spin the Dawn - Elizabeth Lim Page 0,101

into tiny beads, like a wolf’s. His robe became white as bone, and a black amulet—with a crack in the middle—hung from his neck.

Around me, the walls of the bedroom flickered out of focus, then vanished, nothing more than hallucinations. I was outside, on the ramparts of the Thief’s Tower. I’d been outside the entire time.

“You’re a ghost,” I whispered. Grief welled up in me. Grief for my family, for Sendo, for the dream of everyone being happy together ripped suddenly away.

The shock scorched my insides, but my breath was cold.

“Those other creatures were ghosts,” said Sendo, dropping Edan’s dagger. He didn’t need it, not with his claws. They were curved, with razor-sharp tips that could flay my skin to ribbons. “I am something else entirely.”

CHAPTER THIRTY

I reeled away from the demon who’d taken Sendo’s form, staggering back until I hit the parapet. The stone grated against my elbows, and I looked down. Below was Lake Paduan, its waters thrashing violently. A terrible fall, but I might survive it if I didn’t hit the rocks.

The demon laughed. “Little Maia, lost and alone. Did you think your family was all together again?” He sneered. “Foolish girl. You fell for it so easily. The others usually fight harder.”

I bit my lip, choking back a sob. I’d wanted so badly for my family to be whole, and he’d used that against me. “How do you know so much about me?”

“I know everything, Maia,” rasped the demon. “You want to be the best tailor in the land. You want to be loved by your enchanter. You want to save what’s left of your family—to see your father happy, and your brother walk again.” His red eyes glittered at me. “Well, you can’t have it all. But you know that already, don’t you? You learned that when your oldest brothers died. All those nights wishing and praying you’d see them again.” He raised a claw. “Allow me to grant that wish.”

I dove just before he lunged, barely making it out of harm’s way.

Blood rushed to my head. Edan’s dagger glinted behind me, not far from the stone stairway leading to the top of the tower. I sprinted for it and, unsheathing it, dashed up the steps as fast as my feet would take me. I didn’t know what the demon was, but I’d learned from scaling Rainmaker’s Peak not to let fear overcome me. If I did, I’d be lost. Up and up I went.

The top of the tower was empty, save for a stone well in the center. Above me, the sun and moon were side by side. The bridge connecting them arced across the sky, a vein of shimmering silver. Once it collapsed, the blood of stars would trickle down into the well.

Still panting, I bent over the well. Inside was an endless black abyss, as deep as the tower was tall. I prayed the blood of stars would fall soon.

My ears perked at the sound of scraping, knives against stone.

The demon had followed me. His claws grated against the side of the tower, red eyes glowing as he leapt up, landing on the other side of the well.

He laughed at my raised dagger. “You barely know how to use it.”

One side is best used against man, Edan had said. The other side is made of meteorite and is best used against creatures I hope we won’t encounter.

I held the weapon close. The edge made of meteorite began to glow, and the demon’s stare turned vicious. He sprang for me and I darted away with a scream. I didn’t know how to attack him. He was thin as air at times, solid as iron at others. He crouched atop the well, leaping at me and blocking my way whenever I tried to get past. Laughing. Playing with me.

It was a game I couldn’t win. He was too fast. Just trying to avoid his razor claws left me gasping with terror. I would have to attack soon, before I became too tired.

I stopped running and faced the demon, swinging the blade with all my strength. This surprised him, but only for a second. He twisted away, and I missed, but the meteorite burned through the chain of his amulet. I grabbed it and wrenched it from his neck.

The demon retreated. His eyes still glowed with rage, but he made no move to attack.

“Give it back,” he demanded. His claws retracted, and his voice became sweet again. Honeyed, almost, like my mother’s.

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