Chapter 3

Broad white patches still obscured my vision after the last light went out, and the applause seemed to go on forever.

The host announced Mia’s name, praising her work and the “unexpected touch” the blind wolf had brought to the final scene.

As the actors hurried past without stopping, I crouched to feel for my cane, but all my fingers found was water.

“Keller?”

“Mom, I’m here.”

Voices mingled with the rumble of scenery being moved. Nora just managed to pick out my family’s scents on the other side of the stage.

I heard Mom say happily, “That’s my girl.”

Dad asked Mia when the places at the Northern Academy would be announced. Keller seemed to take a few steps in my direction, but Mia called him back at once.

“Keller, our teacher wants a group photo. Could you take it?”

The footsteps stopped. Holding on to the base of the Moon Goddess statue, I inched onto a dry patch of floor, my eyes still streaming and gritty with pain whenever I tried to open them.

“Where’s Ivy?” Mom asked, remembering me at last.

“I’ll get her,” Keller said.

“She just told me she wanted to be alone for a bit,” Mia replied. “I left her sitting in the wings. I took her glasses over too.”

I touched my bare face, knowing she hadn’t brought my glasses or even come to find me.

“Is she upset again?” Dad sighed.

“I’ll talk to her,” Mom said uncertainly.

Mia sniffled. “She doesn’t want to see me. If you go over there, she’ll just bring it all up again. My teacher’s waiting for us. Can’t we eat first? I’ll apologize to Ivy afterward.”

Keller was silent for a moment.

“I’ll drive you over, then come back for her. We’ll ask the server to save her some of her favorite soup.”

“Don’t leave it too long,” Mom said. “She still needs her medicine tonight.”

They remembered my soup and my medicine, yet somehow forgot that I was still stranded on an unfamiliar stage. Desperate to follow their voices, I hurried forward until my toe caught the raised edge of a panel. Mistaking it for a step off the stage, I put my weight on it, and the entire trapdoor swung down beneath me. I was falling before I could finish calling Keller’s name. A sharp coldness struck my chest, followed by searing pain.

I had fallen into the prop storage room beneath the stage, knocking over a row of racks. A silver spear stored upright on one of them drove through my back, pinning me to the fallen wooden frame. The smell of silver caught in my throat. The old ceremonial weapon, borrowed for the first half of the show, had just been lowered into storage through the lift opening without its protective cover. Its exposed point now protruded from my chest. Nora fought desperately to take control of our body, but the edges of the wound showed no sign of healing.

“Don’t move, Ivy. Don’t move…”

Her voice was shaking worse than mine. Scenery scraped across the floor above me, cutting off the light filtering through the gap. I tried to call out, but all that came up was bloody froth. My pain battered the closed links again and again without getting through. I tried to reach the other wolves at the academy, but the silver was steadily smothering Nora’s strength. I couldn’t even get through to my own family, let alone forge a new connection with a stranger.

I felt around in my pocket for my phone and held down the side button, using the shortcut Keller had set up to call his number. When he failed to answer, I tried Mom and then Dad, but neither of them picked up.

The voice assistant still worked. I forced out the words “Call for help,” but it told me it hadn’t understood.

I swallowed blood and tried again, but my next breath came with a wet, broken rattle. I held the screen close to my eyes. All I could see through the white patches was a wavering glow. I tried to find the emergency-call option from memory, but my blood-slick fingers kept hitting the wrong places. In the end, I found my way back to the shortcut I knew best and called Keller again. He had promised to be my eyes.

When the phone finally vibrated, I used every scrap of strength I had to press it to my ear, only to hear a notification from our family group chat.

The read-aloud feature announced Mia’s message: “One very happy family today.”

A photo followed, and although I couldn’t make out their faces, I knew they were sitting in a warm restaurant. Perhaps the bowl of soup they had saved for me was already on the table. Dad sent a voice message.

“Ivy, you’re still upset because we asked you to do one little scene? Your sister’s already said she’ll make it up to you. Come on. We’ll take another family picture when you get here.”

My lips moved, trying to form the words: Dad, it’s not that I won’t come. I can’t get out. By the time the low-battery warning sounded, I could barely hold the phone.

“Ivy, I’m so cold,” Nora murmured, nuzzling gently against my consciousness.

She had said my name just as tentatively when she first appeared, the year I turned eighteen. I had promised to take her through the forests of Duskwood territory, all the way north to see the snow that never melted. Now I couldn’t even keep her warm.

“I’m sorry, Nora.”

The phone slipped from my palm and struck the wooden rack.

Before it went dark for good, I heard Mom add, “Put your coat on. Keller will be there soon.”

At last, I closed my eyes. This time, I wasn’t waiting for him.