BEYOND THE LUNAR VEIL

ked quickly to focus as she stirred, the cold concrete pressing against her cheek. The damp, metallic air around her smelled of

ue carved out of smoke and shadow. Lyra looked like she was from a dream-or a nig

velvety voice that was laced with danger

swimming. The turmoil in her mind, however, was far worse than all of that. She recalled

ht and demanded. Her tone faltered but persisted. She refu

though something old and blazing had illuminated them from within. "M

ion in her eyes that this was no game. Her chest roared with her heartbeat. Her

ision?" she

changed, growing heavier. "Come with me," Lyra said. "Stand by me as I rebuild t

etter? You mean to seize p

can fight me," she added, wiping an invisible speck from

abduction: "Lyra offers power, but her price is poison." All of my instincts told me that this was a test, a trap.

pped her chin with her icy fingers. Althoug

a's eyes, "You'll make the righ

ricted, her thoughts were beginning to race. What if she joine

Lyra's eyes. She said cautiously, "I... I need time.It's

efly thought she had gone too far. The

ware that your vulnerability increases with the amount of time you

th a slow nod. Time. She only required that. To f

before she could stop them as

Lyra stoppe

ith a shaky but firm voice, Mia ask

lost its warmth as she turned around. Her once

defines your identity. Your abilities. Your liberty. Your name. The remainder of your l

ers like a layer of ice. A tiny, unyielding embe

flat voice, "I underst

right. But keep in mind

ed in Mia's bones, the heavy

was si

ly forced herself to stand. She was still alive despite having scraped arms

just bare concrete. in the corner. A little wooden

ndow that was barely wide enough to crawl through and covered

dragged it within. Carefully balancing, she climbed on top and grabbed

The glass was fragile and old. To her su

utside. She heard faint sounds, perhaps crickets, somewher

that running away would not be the end. It would just be the start. Because Mia would

ainst the windowpan

of survival. She had to decide wh

upp

fig

creaked b

stop

needed