Change of Darkness (The Change Series Book 3) by Jacinta Jade (best new books to read txt) 📕

was stalking towards them both. ‘We can’t Change—we’re sharing a mind three ways, remember? Not one of us has enough strength over the others to do that—not without one of us dying first!’

Siraay’s body seemed to go cold. ‘Then there’s no way to beat her,’ she breathed.

‘Just figuring that out, are you?’ snapped old Siray.

This is it, Siraay thought. We’re both going to die in here, at the hands of this broken thing that looks just like us. And when the Lost One wakes in my body … She grimaced, her chin sinking into her chest.

And then it sprang back up again as a final, desperate option occurred to her. ‘She wants control, right?’ she said abruptly to her former self.

‘Umm, yes …?’ Old Siray sounded like she wondered if Siraay had been paying attention at all.

‘Then she wants to live—or the parts of her that are us want to live, yes?’ Siraay’s voice was stronger now, but her other self was frowning.

‘Again, yes?’

‘Then let me show her what will happen if she wins.’ And Siraay left her former self standing there as she strode purposefully forwards.

As the Lost One spied her advancing, the female paused and tilted her head, her smile growing again as she watched Siraay’s approach.

Just like an animal, Siraay thought. And like an animal, she was sure that this broken creature would carefully weigh any options to be sure she won at minimal cost to herself.

Siraay stopped just a few paces away, easily within reach of the lightning-fast female, and close enough to make the Lost One frown at the apparently poorly considered tactic. ‘Even if you win here,’ Siraay said, gesturing to the small space and the darkness swirling at its edges, ‘you won’t win up there.’ She pointed upwards, to emphasise her meaning.

Broken Siray’s head tilted the other way, considering the words. ‘If I win, then I win,’ she said, smiling again. Then she casually reached out and slapped Siraay.

Siraay’s head snapped around from the blow, and she fell to the ground, her whole head going numb due to the strength that had been channelled into that effortless strike. Her ears were ringing, and although she was on all fours, she still wasn’t quite sure which way was up.

Then a pair of hands thrust at her side, sending Siraay reeling onto her back, and those same hands were swift to wrap around her throat.

‘Pretty, pretty, die, die,’ came the chant from above her.

Siraay’s vision finally focused, allowing her to see the body she could feel sitting perched on her chest, pinning her to the ground, and the face above it that grinned down feverishly.

‘Bye, bye,’ sang the broken version of herself.

‘N-n-no,’ Siraay managed to get out, but the unbalanced face above her merely squeezed tighter and kept smiling. ‘L-lo-ook … at … m-my … eyes …’ Siraay gasped out, and in a last desperate attempt to save herself, she released her ineffectual grip on the hands at her throat and instead reached upwards to grab on to the broken one’s chin, forcing her to look down and lock eyes.

As blue eyes stared down into blue, whatever passed for time in that place of darkness and light seemed to slow as the memory of what Siraay had seen in her room flickered before her eyes before it was projected out to encompass her and the other two females, the images of figures and the sounds they had made much fainter, as if those from the real world were now the ghosts.

Siraay didn’t know how it had happened and didn’t much care. But when the Lost One released her grip on Siraay’s neck to stand and eye the slightly transparent people milling about them, Siraay heaved in a great deal of air, coughing as she rolled onto her side.

Soft running steps. ‘What did you do?’

Siraay’s former self had squatted down next to her, whispering as she placed a hesitant hand on Siraay’s shoulder, even as they both kept their eyes on the broken one.

‘I don’t know,’ Siraay replied hoarsely. ‘I just … focused on the memory. Focused on sharing it with her.’

Siraay struggled to her feet—for what felt to her like the tenth time in this place—with assistance from her other self, and together they watched the broken one stand in the middle of the figures as the memory played out around them, her head tilting this way and that as she considered each person.

Then the faint figure that was Chezran said the words they all needed to hear.

‘Guards.’

Once more, two pairs of feet were heard, striding over a stone floor that didn’t actually exist in this place.

Siraay watched as Chezran turned, the Lost One also pivoting to observe him.

‘Stay here until she wakes. If the news is good, fetch me immediately. If it isn’t … then end her quickly.’ The lord stepped away, disappearing into the darkness that swirled around the edges of the memory.

The broken one’s head tilted once more, and Siraay could see her processing what she had just seen as the memory continued to play out around her.

Loce, Atalia, Renhed, Pyron, and Trelar were staring at each other when the broken one held up her hand.

‘Stop.’

And the memory paused.

Siraay’s eyes widened in amazement, her other self’s hand dropping from her shoulder in stunned silence.

Broken Siray stalked through the frozen memory, looking keenly into the faces of each of the people remaining in the room, her head swaying back and forth.

When the Lost One stood before Atalia and Renhed, she paused a bit longer before swivelling away. ‘Watch out for that one,’ she sang, moving across the space. She was about to pass by Pyron’s form when her steps slowed, then stopped.

Siraay saw the broken one’s body tense.

‘This one … is interesting,’ remarked the unkempt female, her eyes squinting hard at something only she could see in Pyron’s face.

Siraay exchanged a look with her other self.

‘What’s going on?’ the old Siray asked in a low voice, barely moving her lips.

Siraay didn’t answer but