The Echoed Realm by A. J. Vrana

Author:A. J. Vrana [Vrana, A. J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781953539861
Publisher: The Parliament House
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

25

Miya raked her nails against the cobblestones and pushed herself to her feet. Wiping her bleary eyes, she sucked in a shaky breath and turned to the doctor slumped against the wall. His eyes were blank, bloodied half-moons that shone no light. Yet amid the stillness, she felt a faint thrum.

Miya pushed aside the folds of Mason’s jacket until she felt three pointed edges prodding through a mesh interior pocket. Her fingers trailed the rough line where the object had been broken.

It was the missing half of the dream stone.

Inverting the pocket, Miya retrieved the stray fragment. Her heart squeezed behind her ribs as the stone’s magic saturated her fingers. The dream stone was a part of her—a splinter of the Dreamwalker that cradled her power in its iridescent glow. As Miya slanted the labradorite, black veins and a streak of shimmering gold cut through the undulating violet and emerald gleam, barely discernable in the dour alleyway. The dream stone was a totem, a tether, and so much more.

Fishing out the pendant that seethed against her breastbone, Miya pressed the two broken edges together and watched the fissure disappear. They fit like star-crossed lovers.

It was as though the two pieces had never parted.

Miya too felt more whole. A delicate seed had sprouted in her mind, and one day, it would grow into the sturdy belief that she was enough—with or without Kai. The conviction had already taken root; it simply needed to be nourished.

But Miya’s newfound valour hadn’t been imparted by a piece of rock. On the contrary, it never would’ve called to her had she not proffered some resolve. Ama’s strident words had rattled the doubt from Miya’s mind, forcing her to dig under the rubble of her insecurities and to find something more, something not-so-easily broken. The dream stone was just a compliment—a jewel to embellish the crown.

Mason shuddered and grasped at his left arm. Turning his wrist over, Miya traded glances with Ama, who sidled up to her and examined the markings seared into the doctor’s skin: two crescents that mirrored one another, and a line that sliced straight through their centers, dividing the arcs into four perfect quarters.

“Truth demon,” said Ama.

Miya peeked at the white wolf. “How’d you know?”

Ama nodded towards Mason’s marred forearm. “That symbol—a cord tying two minds together. The curves represent separate consciousnesses—opposed but alike, one reflecting the other. One is for the demon, the other for the victim. The line that cuts through them is the cord, binding them together. It appears last, when the victim finally succumbs to the demon.”

“I have to go back in,” said Miya. “I need to untangle him from this…thing.”

“No.” Ama clutched her shoulder. “This isn’t something you can just untangle like a knotted shoelace.”

“Then I’ll sever the damn cord!”

Ama’s fingers dug in hard. “Killing a truth demon isn’t easy, and there’s always a price for it. It’s their defense mechanism. Whatever you do to the demon, it’ll come back to you.”

“I know,” came Miya’s mousy response. “But I can’t get away unscathed every time, and I can’t leave Mason like this.

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