Alister
Her name snapped through the room like a live wire. She stiffened, her misty form flickering just slightly. Then her eyes met mine—cold now and filled with frustration.
For a moment, neither of us said anything.
I turn back toward the man still crouched in the dust. "What's your name?"
He tilts his head like a bird hearing a distant sound. "Crow."
I raised an eyebrow. "Crow?"
He blinks slowly. "I don't know my human name if that's what you're asking."
It then occurs to me that perhaps I have it backwards. That choker doesn't turn humans into birds, but the opposite. Which seems even more interesting.
"Fine. Go sit in the corner. Quietly. I need to have a word with my ghost."
His eyes narrow in confusion. "You wanted something from me. What is this about?"
I kept my voice calm but firm. "I'll tell you later. For now, do as you're told, and I won't harm you."
He hesitates—still watching me—but after a moment, he turns and crawls slowly to the far corner of the room. The movement was animalistic, like a wild thing retreating into shadow. His hair dragged behind him, leaving faint streaks in the dust.
I turn back to Leora, whose expression was carved in fury.
"You really thought I didn't figure it out?" I asked, studying her. "Just because I wasn't telling Clara or anyone else, did it mean I hadn't connected the dots about what you did?"
I could still see it. That moment was burned into my mind like a brand.
She lay crumpled on the stone floor, her blood pooling beneath her. Her mouth moved, lips forming words in a language I didn't recognize. Then, with what looked like her final breath, she exhaled a silver mist—light as smoke—towards the white moonstone cradled in Keith's trembling hands.
He had stared in horror, backing up until he dropped the gem and ran away. But the mist didn't stop. It split—like water flowing around a rock—and funneled straight into the two smaller gemstones nearby. But Keith paused and looked back.
Maybe it was greed. Maybe fear. But I remember the way he stared at the stones. Realizing how valuable they looked. Realizing his fingerprints were on them. Then he picked them up with shaking hands and left, not daring to look behind him.
"I thought it'd be hard," I said with the confidence of someone finally cornering their prey. "Pretending I hadn't seen it. Hard acting like I suspected Rubecca the whole time of foul play just to throw you off. But apparently… that was enough."
Even if that wasn't the plan, telling those devotees that their oh-so-great Leora transferred her soul into our gems in her last breaths wouldn't have great consequences for us.
Her arms folded across her chest like a disappointed teacher. "If you wanted to confront me and ask questions, why didn't you just do it? Why waste hours walking in circles for nothing?"
"Would you have answered anything honestly?" I asked, pointing at the number of ways she could have deceptively handled that conversation. "And… I wouldn't call all that walking 'nothing.'"
She opened her mouth to retort but paused. A flicker of uncertainty passed over her face, subtle but telling.
Then her eyes widened.
The entire time, she had been conflicted about whether I didn't know who she was or knew the secret and was hiding it.
The part that suspected I didn't know the truth, when she heard of the plan I came up with at the zoo, must have gnawed at her. Me, displaying myself for enemies to come at me. She knew if something happened to me, it would affect her too. Not to mention how it must have infuriated her when I talked about getting the curse breaker object, knowing full well, as the creator, that it doesn't exist. How she must have bit her tongue to come up with reasons to stop me without giving away who she was. Giving me names of safe streets was all she could do, hoping I'll give up.
"It was very foolish of you," she comments. "If your goal was to get me to reveal myself because you thought I'd be afraid something happening to you would hurt me too, then you are ridiculous. You'd have suffered far worse than death."
The goal was never to get her to reveal herself. I already knew who she was.
"First off, it wasn't foolish if it got you to point me towards a weaker enemy before I ran into a dangerous one."
From the corner, I caught a sharp glare from the man. His grey eyes glinted with something unreadable, but I kept going.
"And second," I add, "I would've gotten away from their clutches… by striking a bargain."
Leora stiffened. "What bargain?"
I just smiled. "As if I'd ever tell you that."
Then I step forward. "Now here's what's going to happen. You're going to tell me everything I want to know. The truth. And in return—" I gestured to the man crouched in the corner, "—I'll gladly kill this bird right here."
He jolts as if struck, his features twisting in shock and horror.
"But," I continue, voice steady, "if you don't give me answers—if you lie, stall, or play coy—then I let him go with everything he just heard. And he'll fly back to those hunters you're so desperate to avoid. He'll tell them everything he heard in this room. If they corner me, my bargain would be advantageous for both parties. Except you, of course."
I recall the first time I confronted these artifact hunters. How she insisted I run away. She knew who they were, and since she was playing pretend, she couldn't warn me. But her anxiety felt real. You'd think she'd have wanted them. The people who probably worship her, to capture me, find a way to separate her soul from the gems and kill us, but no. She's trying to stay away from them. Afraid of them, even when you think they'd have treated her like their queen.
While I don't know why or what may have happened between them, it's a weakness I'm willing to exploit.
I turn my gaze to the man, who surprisingly looks almost bored, meeting his eyes. "Do you understand what's going on here?"
He looks between me and the space where Leora floats—still invisible to him. "…That's actually Leora? The forger?" He asks with disbelief.
I gave a tight nod, then turn back to her.
"The curse can only be broken by the caster," I begin, watching her carefully. "I want you to break it."
A breath escapes her lips. "If only it were that simple," she says, voice tinged with amusement. "But I have no magic left in me. Not while I'm a ghost."
Then a slow smile unfurls across her pale face, sharp as a blade. "However... if you let me possess you, I could remove it for you."
The audacity doesn't surprise me. But it still manages to piss me off.
As if I'll let her take over.
Still…Is possession something she needs permission for? She's been with me this whole time. If she could, wouldn't she have already done it? Maybe she's telling the truth about not having powers.
I move on to the next thing. "Clara's nightmares. Her sleepwalking. My hallucinations. That was you, wasn't it?"
A wicked grin curls her lips. "While I may not have powers... I'm regaining them ever so slowly."
My fists clench at my sides as a dull pain throbs at the side of my head. "So this—all of this—is your fault."
She gives a nonchalant shrug.
I don't give her the reaction she wants. I just ask, flatly. "What's your goal?"
She blinks. The question hits harder than it should.
"It can't be to move on," I continue. "Someone who values immortality so much that they'd anchor their soul to an object just to keep living—someone like that doesn't want peace. So what are you really aiming for?"
She doesn't answer. I see it, though—the twitch in her brow, the slight tension in her posture.
"Answer me." I press.
But instead, she sneers. "Do you really expect me to believe you'll let the crow go? Tell his people everything he knows? You'd put yourself—and Clara—in danger? What if, while you're waiting for your little deal, they find her first? They'd torture her without mercy—and she wouldn't even know why. That it's your fault."
If only she were real. If only she were actually in front of me—I'd stab her right in the throat.
I try to stay composed. "You'd warn me if that happened to her. Part of your soul's inside her, too. You see everything she does. You hear what she hears. If they capture her, you'd be in trouble too. Our safety guarantees your survival. So as much as you enjoy playing your sick little games, you can't really do anything to us."
Her expression tightens, jaw locking in frustration. A hit.
"But speaking of survival," I say. "The gems have passed through so many hands yet remain safe." I step closer as I continue. "Who's been helping you? Who kept Keith from smashing the gem that would've wiped you out? Who called that younger brother at the gas station to meetup and get the items? Who killed him when he failed? And who's still out there. Watching. Waiting for the gems to recharge for whatever twisted purpose they have."
For the first time, she cracks.
She digs her nails into her ghostly arms, trying to mask the panic crawling up her spine.
I look at the man again. "Transform back. I'm thinking of letting you go."
The look Leora gives me makes me believe if she could, she'd cut out my tongue and break my legs herself to stop me. "Are you insane?! The organization is run by an extremely powerful criminal family whose seven sons are in charge of their assigned districts. If even one of them knew about this, they would skin you alive! And Clara too! You really want to watch her die?"
"Do as I say and none of that would happen." I answer her. Making a mental note to find out more about this family.
The man's face twitches, and then—suddenly—his spine arches unnaturally. Limbs shrink and skin melts into a black sheen as feathers burst from his skin. His long hair recoils, twisting into coarse wing feathers. His jaw juts and hardens into a sharp beak with one final crack.
In seconds, the man is gone—replaced by a sleek black crow that launches up into the air in a panic, wings flaring wide.
I lunge forward and snatch him out of the air, my fingers clamping tight around his small body. His wings beat wildly against my palm.
"Settle down," I mutter. "You'll get your freedom soon enough."
"You're bluffing," Leora hisses. "You don't actually plan to release him."
I tilt my head slightly, watching her with narrowed eyes. "Are you challenging me?"
Leora hesitates before finally, she sighs. "It was an old friend," she says. "From the artifact hunters. He's been keeping me hidden for years. Helping me stay out of their sight. He was supposed to visit me the night the robbers came."
She folds her arms tighter, uneasiness crawling up her throat. "I think he was there and saw it go down. Recognized the spell I cast, the one I set to activate on a full moon. So he tried to protect them till then. Keep them from being destroyed before the time was right. I don't know if he's still following us or if he lost track after that idiot handed them off to someone else at the gas station."
I listen closely, still gripping the crow in my hands. But the picture is finally forming.
He might have betrayed her. In the memory spell, I saw their older brother giving them intel about a woman with a gemstone. Said they had a way in. And they slipped into her house too easily. Like someone had told them the safest way to get in.
Just what might he be planning? It's rather distasteful when I'm not the one orchestrating things and using others.
Leora suddenly froze mid-gesture, her pale form trembling like a leaf caught in a harsh wind. Her eyes pupils constricting, and her mouth opened slightly. Then, in a whisper that barely carried, she muttered,
"She… she just got kidnapped."
The words hit me like a physical blow. My chest tightened, my stomach dropped. For a second, the room tilted, and I barely registered the metallic screech of my own heartbeat.
"Who?" I demanded. I already knew the answer. I knew who she meant. But hearing her confirm it… it was another kind of knife twisting.
The crow's tiny head cocked in nervous confusion, as if sensing the change in the room's energy.
"Clara… the men from the organization. They—They took her. Just now." She continues.
Something inside me roared. The crow gave a shrill caw as my hands tightened around it. I refused to accept it. No. Not her. Not like this. My mind raced, connecting dots even as panic threatened to overtake me.
I ripped my phone out, fingers slamming against the screen with reckless speed. "Simon!" I bellowed, voice echoing through the empty room. "Where's Clara!? I told her to wait at your place! I told her not to go anywhere until her car arrived!" I shouted, pacing like a caged animal. "Where the hell is she, Simon?!"
There was a long pause on the other end.
"Al… Alister… I don't know." The crack in his voice tells me he's starting to cry. "She never came back after you guys left." I see. So we were indeed being followed.
I ended the call abruptly, phone slipping from my grip and clattering to the floor. The thought of her—alive, laughing, teasing, vibrant—snapped violently against the image of her in their hands, terrified, maybe hurt, maybe worse.
"Where are they taking her?" I demanded as I walk out of the room. The crow flapped frantically in my grasp, wings beating against my forearms, but I didn't release it. Not yet.
I'll get her back. I'll tear this city apart if I have to. I'll burn every street, break every bone, shatter every plan these monsters have made.
Leora's ghostly lips pressed into a thin line. For a heartbeat.
"The Seattle branch… to the son who overlooks it."