Aminria was curled on Erador’s bed. The lamp flickered on his dresser. Erador’s skin squirmed at how peaceful she looked asleep; it challenged the harsh feelings he had toward her. He shook her awake before thoughts of sympathy could flow in.

  “Where have you been?” she said, rubbing her silver eyes. “I’ve been waiting hours.”

  “I was busy.” He nudged the lurker jar further under his bed with his boot until the orbid’s light no longer cast against the bed trim. “I... lost track of time.”

  Aminria sat up. “Let’s go then.”

  Erador gave a composed nod, but his mind screamed. Shade reprimanded him like a parent for his foolish decision to go into the Shadow Realm. Erador forced down his irritations to stay positive, but he couldn’t hide from Shade. He couldn’t trick him into thinking they were on good terms. Erador stood by the wall with the light behind him. His shadow cast large but Shade hadn’t budged.

  As much as Erador wanted to stay, his neck tingled at Aminria’s watchful gaze.

  “Is something wrong?” she asked.

  “Shade’s not... cooperating.”

  While it was true. Part of Erador was glad he wasn’t. Shade jolted anger through Erador at his lie, irritated he couldn’t tell Aminria the truth.

  Let me in. Shade didn't respond. He ignored Erador. It felt like he was dealing with Miraline again. It wasn’t the idea of dying that rooted his feet to the ground and pounded his heart. He was afraid Aminria knew about his attack.

  “Why is he doing this?” Aminria said.

  Erador shifted. “He doesn’t like lurkers.”

  “Oh... I don’t either, but maybe Shade needs a little coaxing. Can you bribe him?”

  “If only it were as easy to do that like it is with you.” Erador received little relief from that retort, and it didn’t help that his voice stuttered.

  Aminria rolled her eyes. “You know what, Shade. You’re a scaredy cat.”

  Erador’s lip pulled up. “I’m not sure insults will work.”

  “What will?” Aminria looked at Erador. He swallowed, trying to ignore that she might be staring at the scars on his face. “My father’s shadow never pulled this.”

  Erador wanted to hide knowing that someone close to her had one. Could she already know his scars were caused by a lurker? He was too afraid to ask because he'd rather be ignorant to her knowledge of it.

  “Your father had a shadow element?”

  “Yes... but he never took me to the realm,” Aminria whispered. “She felt like a part of the family. She seemed to love us as much as my father.”

  “Shadows are impressionable.” Erador cleared his throat. “They learn through their owners, view the entire world through their thoughts and feelings. It’s natural she would care for you the same.”

  Aminria’s lips pulled into a trembling smile. “I miss her.”

  “Why did he refer to his shadow as she?” Erador asked.

  “I don’t know. Why call Shade a he? Why does anyone sex them?”

  “It feels natural, I guess... because I’m a man.”

  Aminria bit her finger. “Admit it. You’re incapable of facing women’s feelings.”

  “Maybe just yours,” Erador said, with a forced laugh. “Shade... feels what I do.”

  “Not when he doesn’t do what you want.”

  Erador looked away, hating that she saw through his lie. Fearing the realm was one thing he had in common with Shade.

  “I think he’s his own being, regardless of his ties to you. My father’s shadow was like that.” Aminria moved to Shade, who had distanced himself from Erador’s dark slouching shadow. “If there’s one thing I know more than anything about shadows is they don’t want their owner dead because they’ll become a lurker.” Aminria touched Shade who slouched on the wall. “Is that right, Shade?”

  Pain from loss bled into Erador’s chest from Shade. It was equivalent to when the followers abandoned Lucrethia and his father. Loss wasn’t the only emotion he had in common with Shade, but he hated that the shadow protected him out of selfishness. Erador’s inevitable fate would come, and Shade would become the one being Erador feared more than anything. It didn’t bring Erador comfort knowing his element would birth a being of violence.

  Was there a way to prevent it? To protect Shade from his fate?

  Aminria turned around. “He’s protective of you. I think that’s a good thing.”

  Shade zipped around the wall. Unwanted joy rattled through Erador.

  “Maybe a little too protective at times.”

  To the point where he was annoying. To the point where he made Erador feel like a helpless child, but he no longer cried in his room from the lashings on his body. Or was upset his father tore his books because he chose learning over training. He was a man. He was capable. He could make his own choices and choose not to take judgment when his father demanded it.

  Shade stopped, his attitude equalized with Erador’s level of hurt like it always did. Part of Erador wanted to explore that again, to feel support and care from the one being that knew him better than anyone. If he did, he was afraid it would peel away the cocoon he’d built to avoid anyone finding out about his attack and insecurities. Resentment he had for his life tried to force into his mind, like wind rattling against the windows. He boarded it up and cursed Shade for catching him at a vulnerable moment.

  Shade slouched against the door. Erador stomped to the shadow. He wasn’t going to let some witch further ruin his life. Shade tried to hide, but Erador held him there with the lock of his fist. He wound the threads in his mind, binding him closer to the shadow. A tingle ripped down his spin.

  Without a word, he grabbed Aminria’s arm and pulled her through the rippling blackness. Her surprised squeak was lost as darkness consumed them and they reentered the room.

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  “You could’ve warned me.” Aminria frantically scratched her arms. “Why does it feel like bugs are on me?”

  “It will pass.”

  Shade forced a nerve to pinch in Erador's side from being taken advantage of. Erador pushed into it, letting it be known that he was in control. He wouldn’t let the dark haziness shift his focus. He wouldn’t be scared like he was when Loma pulled him through, or hesitate like with Cade. Erador pretended this was the first world and that the colder air was a draft. As long as he didn’t hear any lurkers, he could make it.

  “This is it?” Aminria gazed around the room as she held herself. “It’s the same, except darker.”

  “And you can still be seen by others in our world and touch things.”

  “I already know that, but then how do you spy?”

  “I’ll explain when we get there.”

  Erador gripped the handle and ripped the door open. He scanned the hallway and allowed the comforting darkness to take him toward his destination. Yuni’s room was on the other side of the manor, but he tried not to think of how many areas lurkers could be hiding. The familiar silence stripped him to his most vulnerable state. No matter how common it was in these halls, facing it in the realm made the manor feel haunted.

  It wasn’t long before light consumed the darkness. Erador stopped at the edge of black, where candlelight from the holders couldn’t reach far enough to destroy it. Erador licked his lips at the shadows waiting deep in the hall on the other side of the main stairwell, wishing he could swallow the blackness and make it come to him. But the level above the main stairwell was nearly as wide as the throne room and as bright. Cold sweat clung to his forehead. He tried to breath controlled through his nose, afraid being to loud would prevent him from hearing a lurker.

  Aminria rubbed her arms, but it wasn’t from the cool air. She didn't notice Erador’s hesitation, and he was glad fear occupied her. He didn’t wait to give her a chance to question. After one thorough glance around, he forced himself past the main stairwell, attempting to quiet his feet as they touched the glossy stone and he rushed when they hit the carpet.

  The shadows blanketed him again. He tried to expand his lungs with air but each breath felt like he was fighting a current. Erador stuck to the shadows as he passed the firelight by the library doors and made two turns before he came to the hall with Yuni’s room.

  He swallowed and opened a door beside it, thankful it didn’t creak. The room had one window with a table shoved in the corner and crates against the far wall. The rest of the space was empty. Erador lit the lantern and set it on the table.

  “Now what?” Aminria asked.

  “We let Shade do the work.”

  Erador cracked open the door. Shade slipped under the gap into Yuni's room and was gone. His scalp tingled and an image relayed in his mind of objects noticeable by their silhouette. One moved. Yuni dragged a brush through her hair.

  “I see her.”

  Aminria looked around the room. “Where?”

  “In my head, but it’s not clear.”

  “I can’t see?”

  “I told you it wouldn’t be as fun. But you insisted.” He shrugged. “We could hide in the shadows in her room and she wouldn’t see us but... we would have to use the door.”

  “I’d rather not. What is she doing?”

  “Nothing,” Erador said, sitting on the dusty floor.

  He grasped onto the idea of her doing something suspicious, but his optimism was low. His skin crawled when the chains rattled on the window.

  “Do these really keep lurkers out?” Aminria asked, tugging the chain.

  “Yes.”

  Erador felt like he was lying every time he said it. They only kept lurkers away from the windows and made Erador fell more comfortable to go into the realm. Lurkers could only slip through cracks or under doors not penetrate objects.

  Aminria spun around on her heels. “Why did you need to come here to see her?”

  “Shade is basically absorbing images from our world and relaying them as silhouettes. Right now, a person could walk through him into the realm. If he did it the other way, lurkers might be pulled through. It’s what Loma told me.”

  “Aren’t the chains and black paint on the windows meant to keep them out?”

  Erador bit his cheek. “It’s to prevent me from seeing them and keep it dark, but I don’t...”

  “Trust them?” Aminria crossed her arms. “Thanks for bringing me into this death world.”

  “You wanted to come. I don’t trust not seeing what’s on the other side, so it’s why I came here. I don’t want to give lurkers an access point to our world.”

  A voice drifted through the window. Erador froze. Aminria’s head whipped toward the window. “Is that... them?”

  He gave a shaky nod. From the melodic singing, he knew it wasn’t any lurker. His scars burned.

  “Are you... are you sure it won’t come in?”

  “Uh- huh,” he uttered in a high pitch and rubbed his scarred wrist.

  Aminria rushed to his side and sat close to him, eyes plastered on the window. “You don’t sound sure.”

  “They can’t if the window is closed.” He dug his fingers into his throbbing wrist and clenched his jaw.

  She reached out and tried to remove his hand but he squeezed tighter. Her fingers caressed the scars on his jaw and he flinched. “That thing did this to you. It stalks you like the well lurker.”

  He turned his face away. “We should go. Yuni’s not doing anything.”

  “You don’t have to be afraid.” She scooted closer, pressing her warm thigh against his leg. “I won’t tell anyone.”

  She reached for his collarbone and hesitated before her fingers trailed over the scars. The sympathy in her eyes and light touch weakened his defenses and dared him to expose the truth. But his heart squeezed and he choked on his words that wanted to tell her it didn’t affect him. Part of him wanted to melt into her nurturing demeanor, and tell her how he felt about it. But would she care? She would pacify him, so she wouldn't have to connect with him on a deeper level he yearned for.

  His glossy eyes trailed to her bracelet, where a silver sunflower dangled from a loop. Erador turned another charm to find a raven. More pain. He reached for the next, praying it wasn’t another reminder of Lucrethia. It was a music note and the next a songbird. These pieces belonged to her.

  The hibiscus he didn’t know why she had it and the golden eagle was likely for her kingdom. Another was a moon—the color of her eyes that shined like the crystals in the night sky; a place he wished to discover answers but he was afraid of what he might find.

  Now, he knew why Aminria was distant not only to him, but everyone. These charms were stories she had yet to tell. Maybe he couldn’t confide in her because she would be unwilling to be vulnerable.

  He flicked the white crystal charm as a vision came to him. Little hands reached for the same jewelry piece dangling from a man’s hand in a glove. A white wide-brimmed hat shadowed his face. The girl wore a pink one too large for her head that allowed only a peek at her smile. It trickled warmth through Erador’s gut, but he fought the feeling when a red and black moth landed on the man’s hand.

  When Erador blinked, Aminria came into focus, and he pretended that vision didn’t happen as he lowered her hand to see an anchor—the last charm. She pulled away and aimlessly scratched below her ear. “I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable.”

  Erador peeled apart his lips. “It’s... fine.”

  She caressed a loop on her bracelet without a charm. A frown consumed her again. It was the same expression she had at the festival, and when she talked about her brother at the well.

  Erador leaned closer. “I feel sorry for you.”

  Water pooled in Aminria’s eyes. “I've made it this far. At least I knew how to cope with loss when Lucrethia fell.”

  “Yes, but you don’t deserve that.”

  “And you deserved yours?”

  “Maybe.” Erador rubbed his scar. “This...” he lifted his wrist, “was my fault. I didn’t listen and now I have to come through on my own.”

  Aminria caressed his arm. “You don't have to do it alone.”

  “Neither do you.”

  “I’m not ready.” She moved away. His body left cold from where her touch had been. “Not now.”

  The pain gripped him like a barbed fishing hook that would be more painful to remove than going in. Somehow, it was harder to deal with her emotions than his own. This wasn’t her: the sad face, her voice cracking, and the distance in her crystal-like eyes. But he appreciated the links he made with her, even if it wasn’t as much as he liked—because he hardly had a chance to be vulnerable with anyone.