Lyra Althea slammed the door behind her and froze. Her brother's room. It wasn't right. The bed was made, his desk wiped clean, and the small trinkets he always left scattered were gone. Even the air felt heavier, as if the room itself were holding its breath.
"Aron?" Her voice was barely a whisper.
No answer. Just silence. The only thing that greeted her was a strange, chalky pattern etched into the floor. Lines and symbols that seemed almost to shimmer. She bent down, fingertips grazing the marks, and a sudden wave of dizziness hit her.
"Not again," she muttered.
Lyra had always seen things others didn't. Shadows of truth, glimpses of the unseen. Sometimes it was a gift. Sometimes it hurt more than it helped. And right now, it was warning her.
A soft tap at the window made her jump. Her heart raced. She had lived here all her life and never once had she felt watched like this.
"I… I have to find him."
Her hand went to the dagger at her waist, a habit more than anything else, and she clenched it tightly. The symbols beneath her fingers flared suddenly, glowing faintly, and for a brief second she saw him, her brother, eyes wide with fear, trapped somewhere far away.
Then the vision was gone.
Lyra swallowed hard. This wasn't just a disappearance. Someone had taken him. And she had a feeling this was only the beginning.