Page 50 of A Kiss From Death
Then comes a scream.
I jolt up, looking for threats as my pulse thumps harshly in my neck. I hear the screech of a Necroshriek on the other side of the Bubble, and then another loud scream follows. It sounds like death, slowly dragging on until it tapers off, eerie silence following.
I blink, and when my eyes open again, everything is gone. Aeron and I sit next to each other, now in sand instead of the harsh cave floor, the Bubble’s force field arching above us once again. There’s no cave or cliff, no trees or Necroshrieks. All that remains are my seven surviving competitors, Hudson and Briar now just a memory.
It’s over.
I survived another day, but at whatcost?
My new favorite activity to clear my mind is running. I spend my mornings running around the castle grounds until my feet ache and my mind is blissfully empty. We get one week off before round two of the Crucible. A healer was sent to fix me up after the first round, and my body is as good as new. If only they could heal my heart still painfully aching for Hudson.
I felt a slight reprieve when I found a metal chain bracelet with a tiny paintbrush charm dangling from it in my room. A note was next to it that read,Made from the magic of the best Fabricant in Lunaria so Hudson may never be forgotten.I didn’t recognize the handwriting, but it helped me all the same.
I start my day the same as the previous four: throwing on joggers and a t-shirt Des gave me before the sun is up. The castle is always quiet and peaceful this early in the morning, and I soak it in. There’s something about walking down the dark, silent corridors alone before the castle hums to life that calms my racing thoughts.
Rounding the last corner, I approach a dark wooden door. Grazing my knuckles against it, I place three soft knocks, alerting Winston. We’ve created a system of trust. As long as I knock three times on his door each morning, he lets me travel out of the castle alone to run. He knows how much I need it, and I’m thankful for this bond of trust. When I return, I knock three more times, letting him know I’m back.
It’s risky on his end. If I were to run away, he would be brutally killed by the Empress without trial. I would never do that to him, though, and he knows it. It feels good to have a little control over my life, even if it’s the smallest amount.
Turning on my heels, I make my way through the castle and sneak into the grand ballroom, like always. Striding through the now-empty room, I cut diagonally through the open space to slip out the back door.
The familiar garden comes into view, the sun slowly rising behind it, casting a golden glow around the flowers. It’s a sight I commit to memory each morning, bringing me a tiny sliver of happiness to start my day.
I enter through the small gate, heading straight for the wishing well in the center. I sit here each morning, perched on the edge, waiting. Twirling a curl around my finger, I draw my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them.
As I look over Lunaria, the sun slowly makes its way up the sky until it finally peaks over the tall buildings below. The sky turns a warm pink, mixed with soft blue hues, and no matter how many mornings I’ve spent here, it still takes my breath away.
It’s become a ritual for me now, to start my mornings watching the sun rise above the sleeping city below—not a care in the world, just a simple girl enjoying the nature around her, pretending her life isn’t a crumbling mess. Once the sun rises to its full height, I bend over, whispering the same wish into the well, and then take off to run my brain into exhaustion.
After my fifth lap around the outer edge of the castle, my lungs heave and my brain has calmed enough to think straight. I snatch the fabric scarf I have hidden behind a rock, wrapping it around my head and shoulders before I slip into the bustling city below thriving to life.
It’s packed full of magicals now, working together to create a flowing system. It’s impressive to watch, and I take in each part and its impact on making Lunaria so magical. There are Soaks watering gardens, Scorches burning away dirt and grime littering the streets, and a man who shifts into a bird right before my eyes, scouring above for a lost toy for a crying child.
I take the familiar cobblestone road weaving through the heart of the city, leading to the small wooden bridge arching over a small stream below. Bending over the railing of the bridge, I drop a few worms I snagged from the garden and watch the fish flop out of the water, snatching them up.
Trudging on, I duck down a back alley, trying to avoid the main paths packed full of people. Everyone knows what I look like now, and I shouldn’t be wandering the streets of Lunaria alone. The scarf keeps me hidden for the most part, and with the busy lives the magicals live, most are too wrapped up in their own worlds to pay me any heed.
Hoisting myself up over a brick wall, I drop down the other side, landing softly on my feet. The smell hits my nose before I spot the cozy little bakery nestled in the corner of town. I stumbled upon it my first day wandering the city trying to clear my mind of the Crucible, and it’s now become one of my favorite places. A familiar pull akin to home draws me back each time.
The sparkling dome comes into view as my hurried feet stumble through the flowing crowd. I shade my face with the back of my hand from the sunlight that bounces off the stained glass windows that cover the exterior of the domed shop. It looks like a glowing orb with a single deep brown door in the center. A woodensign hangs above, the word ‘Knead It’ burned into it in. A square wooden planter rests next to the door, sprouting bright yellow and pink flowers.
As I open the door, a copper bell rings, alerting the staff of my presence. There’s a few rustic wooden tables scattered about the small space. Sunlight pours in through the glass windows from every angle, making the space glow in warm orange light. It’s a welcoming environment, and by the group of people lounging in chairs, eating and reading, I can tell I’m not the only one who thinks so.
“Hey, sugar!” a woman’s deep raspy drawl brings a smile to my face. Her dark chocolate skin peeks out from the apron tightly wrapped around her, covered in flour. Her round face is rosy from working all morning, and she shines me the warmest smile, her bright white teeth on full display. Deep set smile lines pepper her face around her plump lips and next to her kind, rich brown eyes. They’re the type of lines created from a life full of laughs and fond memories. Her dark curly hair is thrown up in a bun that has slowly started to slide off her head from a hard day’s work.
Moji.
“Mo!” I reply warmly as I approach the woman standing behind the counter stocked with fresh pastries. I’ve made it a habit to come here each morning to snag two strawbana bread slices for me and Des.
Mo is the owner of Knead It and wakes up before the sun rises to bake the most delicious and unique pastries I’ve ever tasted. From spiced breads to herbal teas, she has it all. My favorite, though, is her strawbana bread, a unique, spongy take on banana bread. She sneaks in fresh strawberries among the mix, adding to its sweet flavor. It reminds me of the strawberry and cream cookies Theo would make me, and I smile at the memory.
“The usual?” she asks as she makes her way to the counter.
“That would be amazing, Mo. Thank you!” I reply while drumming my fingers on the counter.
She packages my order, and in typical Mo fashion, I see her sneak in a third slice while she thinks I’m not looking. She slides it onto the counter between us, and when I reach into my pocket to pay her, she just shakes her head, closing my hand around the coins.
“Save those for something special, sugar.”
