“Him?” Lil smiled.
“Yeah, he was called Eliffant.” It meant “elephant” in Welsh. Kiran’s mum was born in a village a few miles from Porthpridd. “Dad said he should have been Haathee, because they don’t have elephants in Wales, only in India.” Kiran’s dad was born in Birmingham after Kiran’s grandparents had emigrated from India.
Kiran drew a short breath. “Wow. I haven’t thought about those stories in a long time.” He sighed. “I guess it was just stuff. Not her, not really. It just felt weird having it go to someone else. Like now there’s someone else wandering around in my mum’s clothes, in her shoes. You know. Mind you, she would have hated the idea of Dad just chucking it away. ‘Not more landfill, Dev!’ she would have shouted. She hated waste. Her and my dad’s mum had that in common. She never throws anything out. Her house in Birmingham is full of old junk. She would kill me if she heard me call it that! But she’s even got a load of my dad’s old rompers. And his baby teeth!”
“Ew!” Lil wrinkled her nose.
“Yeah! Gross, huh.” Kiran hesitated and then said softly, “What was she like? Mella. You don’t talk about her much.”
“Talking about her doesn’t change anything.” That sounded more bitter than Lil had meant it to, and it wasn’t true, either. “It’s painful, remembering; even saying her name sometimes hurts. I think about her all the time.”
Kiran nodded like he understood.
“She was loud.” Lil smiled. “So loud. And funny. And this amazing artist. Seriously. Mells was so talented.” She paused. She wanted to say that Mella was the best, because she was, but that wasn’t the whole truth, not really, and Lil wanted to tell someone the truth. “Sometimes she just drove me crazy.” The words tumbled out. “I just wanted one day, one occasion, you know, when it wasn’t . . .” Lil caught herself. She’d been about to say when it wasn’t all about her. Instead she said, “When things were quieter, when she wasn’t crazy robot dancing and falling over and breaking her ankle.”
“Did that really happen?” Kiran raised an eyebrow.
“Yes, my sixth birthday! On my seventh she started this tradition of making croissants, only she forgot about them and set fire to the kitchen. We needed to call the fire brigade.” Lil laughed at the memory, but there was a tinge of something else to it. A stain that had grown over time.
Lil talked quickly. She didn’t want to let that thought take up residence in her brain. “Then on my twelfth she got so drunk on peach schnapps that she threw up all over the hallway. And then on the morning after my sixteenth”—the sadness rushed in—“she left, and we haven’t seen her since.”
Lil gazed into the distance. Tears came so readily now that she didn’t realize her eyes were full of them until the world fractured. “I shouldn’t talk about her like this. She was great. Just . . .” She turned to Kiran. “Sometimes she was . . . she could be too much.” How could she even think that? It made it sound like she’d wanted Mella gone, and she hadn’t. She hadn’t. Just sometimes for her to be a bit less Mella, but then . . . Mella was Mella. Lil sighed. “Hey, maybe if she’d been around that day in the kayaking club, she would have taken you kayaking and we wouldn’t have met at all.” Was that what Lil really thought? No. Yes. Maybe.
“We would have met. It was meant to be,” Kiran said, the words so quiet they were barely a whisper, but they rolled around Lil’s head as loud as a cry. Her heart rose up like a balloon to meet them, before it deflated again. Her head was too full of thoughts and she couldn’t make sense of any of them.
Lil and Kiran lay in silence for a while.
“When Mum died,” Kiran said, “that was it. It was over. At least you have hope. Right?”
Hope. The trouble with hope was you didn’t know when it would be fulfilled, and that meant jumping every time the phone rang, or someone knocked on the door, or you saw a girl on the street with curly brown hair. Sometimes hope felt very close to despair, because despite fighting with everything you had to deny it, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe she wasn’t coming home . . . if maybe something had happened to her.
Lil shut off that thought. “Yes,” she said so suddenly that Kiran jumped. “Mella’s coming home. Yes, definitely.”
“Of course she is,” Kiran said, and he looked at her pensively, not because he thought she was delusional, but because he somehow seemed to realize that she hadn’t really been talking to him. He went to touch her hand and then hesitated. They both watched the hand travel toward Lil’s and then stop. It hung there a moment and then dropped back to his side. Lil wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed.
“Things were bad for Mella at the end,” Lil said after a minute. “I mean before she left. She and Mum were fighting. About Cai. About homework. Mella was in trouble. A lot. She’d never been great at school. But then at college it was like she just gave up, even with her art coursework. And I was so angry with her. She wouldn’t let anyone help her.”
“Hmm. Sounds like someone else I know,” Kiran said.
“What do you mean?” Lil was surprised.
Kiran shifted uncomfortably. “Just that . . . sometimes you are kind of shut off.”
“Shut off?”
“Distant. Like, I don’t know. It’s hard to talk to you.”
Lil was hurt. Aside from Rhiannon, Kiran was her only confidant. “I don’t mean to be difficult,” she said.
“No!” Kiran said. “I’m saying this wrong. I mean you’re Lil: You’re funny and smart and . . .” He ruffled his hair, something he always did when he was nervous or uncomfortable. “It’s just you don’t talk about stuff, like proper stuff, ever. If I bring anything up, you change the subject. And . . .” He paused. “Rhiannon says you don’t talk to her much now either.”
“You’ve been talking to Rhia about me?” Lil was annoyed, but mostly she was embarrassed. She’d been mean to Rhia, and Rhia deserved better. Selfishly, she didn’t want Kiran to know about it.
“No. Just . . . I bumped into her the other week. She was in Porthpridd. I assumed you would be with her, but she said she didn’t see you much now. Or at all, actually.”
Lil fiddled with the zipper on her sleeping bag.
“It’s none of my business,” Kiran said. “I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”
The feelings warred inside Lil for a minute. She was defensive and hurt, but then she sighed. “It’s hard to think about stuff. Talk about stuff. There’s so much to do with the social media stuff for Mella, the Find Mella website has to be updated every day, and Mum needs me. I guess I don’t have time to just hang out like I used to.” But that wasn’t the truth, not really.
After a long moment Lil said quietly, “I can’t talk to Rhia. I want to, but I can’t. Her family is so perfect. It makes mine seem . . . And then I get . . . embarrassed.” And angry, and jealous. And I hate myself for it, because do I really want someone else to be unhappy in order to make me feel better?
Lil tugged at the zipper again, then looked up at Kiran. “Me and Rhia are okay. We will be okay. I just need . . . Mella needs to come home and then everything will be fine.” She had to turn away then because Kiran’s eyes were too raw, as if reflecting Lil’s own. It hurt too much to look at all that empathy. More than that, Kiran’s eyes said, What if she doesn’t come home? Lil wasn’t ready to think about that yet. She would never be ready to think about that. Because Mella was definitely coming home. She had to.
“I have to be there for Mum,” Lil said. “That’s the most important thing. I have to keep it together for her.”
“You’re amazing,” Kiran said softly. “I mean, I think you are. To stay strong and sane . . .”
Lil wondered if he would still think that if she told him she heard her sister’s voice in her head.
“After Mum—” He was cut off by a noise from Seven, and they both looked over. Kiran half sat up to peer through the gloom.
“Is she awake?” Lil asked.
“Seven?” Kiran called. There was n
o response. “No, I don’t think so.” He settled back down in the sleeping bag and blankets. He didn’t finish whatever he was going to say about his mum, and Lil didn’t want to press him. He was so quiet and still that she was sure he’d fallen asleep.
Lil yawned but couldn’t drop off. She stared at the ceiling a long time, listening to the silent house. She jolted when he spoke again and very quietly said, “The fact that I don’t ask about Mella doesn’t mean I don’t care. I just figured you’d tell me if you wanted to.” He turned toward her, his face so close that she could see the shadow of his eyelashes on his cheek and feel his warm breath on her neck. If she turned her own head, their lips would be touching. Heat coursed through Lil like a flame, because she wanted to turn her head, she wanted to kiss Kiran. No, no, no. No. No.
With an effort of will, she lay still, head flat on her own pillow, thinking icy thoughts to calm the heat coursing through her veins. “Good night, Kiran,” she said softly, gently, but it came out like good-bye.
Beside her, Kiran let out a breath slowly, steadily, and it sounded like disappointment.
May the Light bring you peace.
—THE BOOK
Look at the flame,” Moon commanded, her indigo eyes flickering in the firelight, her hair redder than ever.
All the sisters had gathered in the clearing in the woods, for the Refulgence, their nightly communion with the Light, at midnight, when the Dark was at its strongest. The shadows were long over the grass, but they were beaten back by the roaring bonfire. Brilliance could feel its heat on her face, and not just any heat, she thought with a thrill, the Light’s heat. Moon kept the Sun’s flame burning in an orb in her room, and it was transferred here every evening by Evanescence, the first Alpha, Moon’s second-in-command. Then it was shared with the Sisterhood, so they might all be cleansed by it.
Tonight’s communion was even more special. It was the last one before the Illumination.
“The Sun’s flame is not fire, but water that soothes as it touches, cleansing you,” Moon said, “freeing you from your pain, your fear, freeing you from yourself and from the Dark.” She wore her red tunic tonight: red for the Light’s intensity. Sleeves rolled up, arms stretched out, the fire catching in her hair and flickering on her white skin, she looked like a goddess. “Only when we are entirely without self can we be free,” she went on. “It is only by stripping your soul to its barest state that you can enter the Brightness.” Moon threw her arms up, voice carrying to the sky, driven up by the fingers of fire, smoke rising in tatters, and Brilliance was reminded of that Turner painting: the one of the burning ship.
“I want you to stare into the Sun’s flame,” Moon continued. “Imagine yourselves reaching out to touch it. Feel the flame’s heat cleansing you, taking away your Darkness, leaving behind only Light, only happiness, only Brightness.” Moon was as mesmerizing as the fire. “Breathe in. Take the Light inside you!”
Moon’s voice was a crescendo now: as loud as a shout but also as gentle as a whisper. She caught Brilliance’s eye and it seemed she was talking only to her. “Take the Light, my sister. Make it yours.”
Brilliance breathed in. The smoke mixed with the headier smell of the incense burning in the seven stakes around them, and she felt herself slipping into the flame. Further and further, until its power surrounded her. The thousand thoughts pushing at her brain evaporated in its smoke. She drew another long breath and the flame became a part of her: Its pulse was her pulse; its breath was her breath as she drew in more of the cloying air into her lungs.
There was nothing but the Light. Not the Darkness. Not the smell of the rain after the earlier storm. Not the sound of the owl, or the fox sniffing in the undergrowth. Just Light. Pure, pure Light. Dancing in a kaleidoscope in front of her. Touching everything. The leaves, the branches, the grass, and farther, too. A shaft of it struck the bay. Brilliance could see more than ever before. She could see the whole world, and it was magnificent. And she was a part of it. A part of this Light. A part of this shining new world.
Slowly, many hours or maybe only seconds later, Brilliance began to come back to herself, as though waking from a deep sleep. She hung for a while in that moment between sleeping and waking, when everything was in perfect balance. She was aware of her toes, her fingers, how they connected to the muscles, to the tendons, how the blood flowed through her in an intricate maze of hidden veins. The peacefulness still clung to her. She could still remember the union of Light and Earth and self. She didn’t want to shake that off yet, to swap its softness for the harsh edge of the world. Not yet.
She drew a deep breath, and somewhere nearby an owl hooted.
Brilliance felt at peace.
“May the Light always protect you,” Moon said.
Brilliance opened her eyes, blinking, and the world was dark compared with the Light’s fire. She wanted to go back immediately into that other place. That feeling, that beauty was a drug and she wanted more, more, more, and she didn’t care what she must do to get it.
She walked back to the house in a daze, following the other sisters but barely concentrating, her mind still on fire with the Light. She was so out of it that it took her a moment to register the sounds of confusion up ahead. It was Moon’s voice, raised in a shout, which finally brought her back to herself. She was surprised to see fear and horror on the faces of everyone around her.
“Wh-what’s happened?” she asked, but no one answered. She followed their gaze to where Moon stood with Dazzle, the youngest of the sisters. Even from a distance Brilliance could see the panic in Dazzle’s eyes.
“I . . . don’t know,” Dazzle said, shaking her head. “I don’t know.”
Moon’s hand snapped out like a snake, gripping Dazzle’s face tight; her nails dug crescent shapes into the girl’s jaw. “Well, think,” she said, shaking Dazzle as she spoke. Anger pooled like spittle in her words. “Think harder! When did you last see the Light’s Gift? When exactly?”
The violence of it took Brilliance’s breath away. She was too surprised to react.
Dazzle flinched in pain, but she forced the words out. “I . . . last night. . . .”
Moon turned her eyes on the rest of the group, and Brilliance shrank back from their glare. It was like being caught in a laser. “Have any of you seen her since then?” Moon’s voice was almost unrecognizable and her face twisted into a mask of anger.
There was a general murmuring of no. Everyone looked at the ground. No one wanted to attract her attention.
“The . . . the gate . . . was open. The keys are gone.” Dazzle’s voice was barely a whisper.
Moon let go of Dazzle so quickly that she stumbled backward. One of the sisters, Luster, the Alpha who had been Brilliance’s guide, caught her and steadied her.
Moon turned to Evanescence. “Find her,” she screamed. “FIND HER NOW! Find my gift!” Her eyes were as black as the sea in a storm. Her words reverberated around the wood.
CHAPTER NINE
Mella was standing in Lil’s bedroom, playing with one of the prisms on Lil’s dream catcher.
“You’re back!” Lil gasped.
Her sister turned slowly. She smiled, but despite being so happy to see Mella, Lil couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. Then Lil realized what it was. Lil’s hair had changed color three times since Mella had left. Mella hadn’t changed at all. Dark hair pulled back in a high ponytail. Candy-floss lip gloss. Pale-blue minidress with white polka dots, Lil’s Converse trainers. She looked exactly the same as the last time Lil saw her, the night of Lil’s sixteenth birthday. “You ignored me,” Mella said. “I needed you and you ignored me.”
Lil blinked, and when she opened her eyes again, her sister was gone. All that remained was a dark shadow on the carpet where she’d been standing.
Lil sat up, her face wet with tears. It was still night and the room was dark. Lil could just make out the shape of Kiran lying next to her and Seven curled up under the bundle of blankets in her bed. She didn’t
know what had woken her until she heard the banging coming from downstairs.
“Wh-what?” Kiran asked groggily, rubbing his eyes and rolling over.
Realization flooded Lil’s brain. “It’s someone knocking on the front door.” She flicked on the bedside lamp. “It’s okay. It’ll be my aunt. She must have decided to come up and check on us.” She was glad. Her dream still clung to her, and she wanted to see her aunt’s warm, loving face.
“At three a.m.?” Kiran asked, looking at his watch.
Sabrina must have been worried and driven out here to make sure they were okay. It was amazing that she’d made it in this weather, but Lil was just relieved they weren’t on their own anymore. Then she glanced across at the spot where Seven had been sleeping. It was empty. Kiran noticed at the same time. Lil’s bedroom door was open just enough for a tiny girl to squeeze out and into the hallway beyond.
There was another knock. They both jumped.
“It’s my aunt,” Lil said. Who else could it be? “Or maybe Seven went out for some fresh air and the door shut behind her.” Even as Lil said it, she knew it was ridiculous. “She’s gone, hasn’t she?”
“Probably.”
Lil swore under her breath. “We should have expected this. We’re going to have to find her.” Her heart sank at the thought of going out into the storm, but what choice did they have? Luckily, if Sabrina was here, searching in the dark would be a thousand times better with her. If it was Sabrina at the front door.
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