The Last Fallen Star by Graci Kim (ebook reader with highlighter .txt) 📕

is clear. Tackle the man, grab Hattie’s heart, find Emmett, and get out of here. And do it pronto. As adrenaline burns through my body, I let out a Xena-esque battle cry and spring up, lunging headfirst at the man.

“Ow!” My head bonks into something cold and hard, and I fall back onto my butt with a heavy thud.

The man stands unfazed.

I look around me, confused. There’s nothing to be seen in the air, and yet I could have sworn my head hit something solid. I tentatively raise my hand, only for my fingers to feel long vertical bars in front of my face. I frantically follow the invisible beams and find they surround me on all four sides and a few feet above me, too. I’m boxed in.

“Why have you trapped me in here? Magically imprisoning a minor without parental consent is against the gifted council’s code of conduct,” I warn, pushing through the quiver in my voice. “If you don’t let me go this instant and tell me where you’re holding my friend, I will report you—and I’ll have you know, my auntie is an elder on the council!” I really wish I could stand up to make these threats.

The man cocks his head slightly as he studies me. Then one side of his mouth quirks upward.

“You think this is funny?” I spit out the words, feeling my emotions unravel like a ball of yarn. “This is a matter of life and death! That heart you’re holding belongs to my sister, and if I don’t find what I’ve promised to find, I will lose her forever. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

A weird heat flares in my gut. And for a moment, I feel like I’ve caught on fire. As if my four elemental fires have been switched on. “I’m not messing around, Mr. Fancy Suit. I’m going to ask you one last time. Release me, and tell me where you’re holding my friend, or else!”

Something changes in the man’s face. His features soften, and he looks at me with an expression that seems kind of like recognition, or maybe even…respect. As the heart vial hangs down from his fingers, he opens the copy of The Loyal Tales of the Haetae.

“Have you read the story about how the Haetae came to wield time-manipulation powers?”

I stare at him in disbelief. Does he really think this is the time to be making small talk?

He continues. “The Haetae once helped the six goddesses commit a crime. He then became so guilt-ridden that he condemned himself to relive his mistake over and over again, because he believed that was the punishment he deserved. Although he was never able to rewrite history, his return to the past granted him the ability to manipulate time. And with his new power, he was able to help many people in need.” He strokes his beard and looks me right in the eye. “To find that which you seek, you must also turn back your clock. You must return to the very beginning—to where you first started. Because, like a coin, there are always two sides to every story. Without the two sides, it cannot be whole.”

I scowl like I’ve never scowled before. “I didn’t ask for a lecture,” I start, channeling my inner Boss Hattie. “I asked you to let me go!”

He nods simply. “As you wish.”

The bearded man carefully places Hattie’s heart vial on the floor between his feet. Then he removes a marble from his pants pocket and throws it down in front of me. He starts chanting, and clouds of blue and purple smoke start rising from the ground.

I cover my face. Ugh, I will not be knocked unconscious twice.

I hold my breath for as long as I can, and when I feel myself getting light-headed, I sneak a peek between my fingers. The man is gone. And with him, the strange fog.

I take the opportunity to reach for Hattie’s heart, still on the ground in front of me. Thank Mago, the invisible bars are gone. I grab the vial with a triumphant grunt, only to break into a frown. The glass feels colder to the touch now. I’m not sure if I’m imagining it, but I think the heart is pumping slower than it was before, too.

I pick myself up and loop the black cord over my head. This isn’t good. We need to move faster. “Emmett! Where are you?”

I turn toward the elevator, prepared to search every floor of this temple if that’s what it’ll take to find my best friend. But as I’m moving, I see something out of the corner of my eye. I swivel around to find Emmett’s body curled up on the floor next to the detergent vending machine. Boris is there too, folded neatly next to him.

“Em!” I scream, and I run over and fall to my knees. His chest is moving up and down, and it doesn’t look like he’s bleeding or has broken any bones. But he remains unconscious. “Wake up, Em. Get up!”

His face is pale, his lips blue. He looks so little lying there, and suddenly I flash back to when we were in elementary school.

Emmett was way smaller than the other boys, and he got teased a lot for it. When we had parent visiting days, he would pretend his absent mom was a wildlife photographer on assignment in Africa, and kids would write LIAR on his locker. The worse the bullying got, the more he raised walls around himself and retreated within them. Sometimes I think he likes the fact that his dad is so strict. It’s easier to lay low when there are rules to hide behind.

But he was different with me. One time in third grade, I was in the library, eating lunch by myself. Jennie Byun had told me I couldn’t come to her birthday party—it was for “real” gifted kids only—and as usual, I’d burst into tears and run away. I was sitting in the corner,