Chapter 23
Alanna
Outside the armored Warden vehicle is a smear of panicked flashing lights and roiling smoke.
Sirens wail in the distance, a sound that tangles with the frantic thumping of my own heart.
Seb is at the wheel, grimly focused as he navigates through streets clogged with fleeing cars and terrified pedestrians.
In the back, four other Wardens are dour and silent, checking their gear.
They’re here to contain a magical anomaly. I’m here to save my family.
The image of Lizzy, wan and shivering in that hospital bed, flashes in my mind.
The memory is a spur, digging into the terror that’s been clawing in my chest since I saw Em’s text.
Lumina Festival. They’re in there. My goofy, brilliant baby sister, and the father I’ve barely spoken to in years.
If anything happens to them . . . I swallow, pushing the thought away. I won’t let anything happen to them.
Swiping my thumb over the crystal mark on my forearm, I fight the fear and helplessness that threaten to swamp me.
I’m not helpless. My whole life, I’ve worried that what’s deep inside of me is too intense for those I love.
But now, I can use it. My fear, my tremendous love for my family, even my simmering anger at Dad—it all coalesces.
And my magic—this Cognitive Resonance that’s unique to me, and me alone—answers, humming under my skin with newfound intensity and clarity.
For the first time, my power doesn’t feel like something that happened to me; it feels like mine.
“We’re two blocks out,” Seb says tightly. “Remember, the protocol is to establish a perimeter and assess the threat. Alanna, you’ll stay behind us.”
“My family is in there, Seb.” My voice is dangerously steady. I have no intention of hiding behind the Wardens.
He glances at me, and whatever he sees in my face makes him press his foot harder on the accelerator. We screech around a final corner, and the scene explodes into view.
The Lumina Festival, which should be a wonderland of light sculptures and joyful crowds, is a maelstrom of panic.
People are screaming, running in every direction.
And in the center of it all, where the grandest light installation should be, there is a churning vortex of living darkness.
The echo-beast in its shadow state, terrifyingly massive, its insatiable hunger a palpable force that yanks at my magic until the dissonant static buzzes in my teeth.
Through the haze, silver flares erupt—Wardens, already engaging the creature, their defensive wards flickering and failing against the sheer mass of the shadow.
It lashes out, and a food truck is tossed aside like a child’s toy, its generator sending up a new plume of smoke.
I have to end this.
My vehicle lurches to a halt and I’m shoving the door open before the engine is even off, scanning wildly for any sign of my family.
The moment I step outside, it’s a sensory assault—the acrid smell of burning plastic, shouts echoing off surrounding buildings, smoke burning my eyes.
And amid it all, the chaotic energy of the echo-beast presses in, its wrongness bringing bile to the back of my throat.
Seb is out a second after me, grabbing my arm.
“Alanna, wait! Didn’t you hear what I said about protocol?
You’re not a Warden and you have no combat training.
You’re only here because you’re our best expert right now on this thing’s magical signature.
That means you are my direct responsibility, and you will stay behind my team.
Eyes open. You do not engage unless I give the signal. That’s an order.”
I look from his determined face to the seething tide of black a hundred yards away, where it just consumed an offensive Warden spell. An order? He’s right about one thing—I’m the only one who understands the echo-beast. And I don’t have time to waste taking orders from people who don’t.
“No,” I say, leaving no room for argument as I pull my arm from his grasp and start walking, my stride purposeful, directly toward the chaos.
“Alanna!” Seb scrambles in front of me, blocking my path. “I’m serious! I can’t let you—”
He stops talking as a flicker of iridescent light pulses from my arm, a visible ripple that makes the air hum.
It’s not a threat, but it’s not a request, either.
He stares from the shimmering energy back to my face, and the authority in his expression crumbles into stunned realization.
He can’t stop me. Physically trying would be a spectacularly bad idea for everyone involved.
Taking a half-step back, he runs a stressed, exasperated hand through his dark hair. When two other Wardens move to flank him, he holds up a hand to stop them.
“Are you for real right now?” he hisses. “We don’t have time for this bullshit.”
“Exactly—so look at the attacks! It’s just like I told you in the truck, the Wardens have no idea how to approach this thing.
They’re basically spoon-feeding it power!
You need me.” I step closer, my voice dropping to a fierce whisper.
“I am the only one who can try something different. I’ll ‘make it whole’ and force it into a form you can actually contain. That’s the only way to beat it.”
As if on cue, a shout rises from the perimeter. Seb’s gaze snaps to the battlefield just in time to watch a heavy offensive volley collide with the shadow—and vanish, absorbed instantly with zero effect.
The beast only looms larger. The battlefield is proving me right.
He lets out a sharp exhale. The decision is made.
“Fine,” he grits out, falling into step beside me as I continue my advance. “We’ll try it your way. But if anything—I mean anything—goes wrong, you fall back. Please.”
I make no promises as I march forward. Behind me, Seb mutters under his breath, “Kade is absolutely going to kill me. ‘Sorry brother, I just let her walk right into the monster’s mouth. You understand, right?’ Dead. I’m dead.”
I barely hear him, my focus now entirely on finding my family. The panicked crowd is a river flowing against me, but I plant my feet, shouldering my way through the current of bodies. Seb and the other Wardens fan out behind me, an escort of warriors at my back. They are following my lead.
The closer I draw to the beast, the heavier the air becomes, thick with that telltale metallic tang.
The temperature drops, then drops again, until the freezing cold is biting through my clothes.
No longer in my teeth, my mind reels from the dissonant static, louder with every step.
A younger version of me would have been paralyzed by it. But I am not that person anymore.
Calling on my Cognitive Resonance, I am able to filter the sensations. The cacophony of fear, the crush of the crowd, the cold and the static . . . I push it all to the periphery. My magic sifts through the noise, searching for two familiar voices, two specific threads in this tangled mess.
There.
My eyes snap open and I pivot in time to catch a flash of cobalt-streaked hair, maybe twenty yards away. It’s Em. She’s running, but she’s not alone. She’s towing a hysterical boy alongside her, keeping him from being trampled by the crushing mob. Pride, fierce and hot, swells in my chest.
A moment later, I spot him. Dad. His round glasses are cracked, one lens spiderwebbing, and the sleeve of his usually neat button-down is ripped open at the shoulder.
He’s near a twisted metal sculpture, waving, yelling frantically, trying to get Em’s attention, his face carved with a terror I’ve never seen on him before. He’s trying to get her to cover.
Relief crashes through me. They’re alive.
They’re okay. As I break into a run, I hear Seb shouting my name and the thud of Warden boots struggling to cut through the wall of fleeing bodies around me, but I’m smaller, desperate, and I leave them in the dust. I just need to get my family to safety, then I’ll be able to focus on what I need to do here.
But the echo-beast is faster. We are connected, and it senses the sudden shift in my emotional state, the bonfire of my strong feelings.
With a ground-shaking reverberation, it turns, an enormous ebony appendage whipping through the air.
It smashes into the light sculpture near my father, sending a shower of sparks and warped metal flying directly toward Em.
“Em!” I scream, pushing more power into my legs in a renewed burst.
Dad’s already reacting, pulling her and the boy behind the relative safety of a huge concrete planter.
He turns at the sound of my voice as I sprint the last few feet to reach them, and his eyes, wild and horrified, lock onto mine.
A grinding screech tears through the air directly above me, and before I can move, Dad lunges—not away, but toward me, into danger.
He pushes me aside, putting himself between me and the falling debris.
Time seems to warp, slowing down as I fall to the ground, watching as a heavy piece of the sculpture careens toward Dad. The man who walked away. The man who I thought couldn’t handle me, who I believed had left because my questions were too many, my feelings too deep.
The man who just put himself in mortal danger without a flicker of hesitation. For me.
With a sickening crunch, the debris slams into his shoulder, sending him crumpling to the pavement, unmoving.
“Dad!” I cry out, and all I can see is him on the ground, his face pale, his glasses gone now, his torn shirt dark with dirt. A ragged sob escapes my throat.
I scrabble across the ground, kneeling over him, shaking him.
Something crashes into me, enfolding me in softness. It’s Em, throwing her arms around my neck in a frenetic hug. I clutch at her, feeling her small frame quiver.