Destiny's Blood by Marie Bilodeau (superbooks4u txt) 📕

unlocked. She had often felt pulls like this, before her instincts had deserted her.

The Dark Knights, and the information I need, must dwell here, she thought as she quietly crossed the shop, open but empty. She did not question where she was going, letting her feet guide her behind the main desk. Without hesitation, she pushed the back door.

Although she barely noticed the actual store, the back storage caught her attention. Maps littered shelves, the floor, old chairs…there were maps of every type, from hand drawn land maps to old three-dimensional charts of star systems.

There must be a map for everything, she thought as she looked at the stacks, maps made of paper, parchment, vinyl, some drawn on hides or chiselled in stone, and some made of materials and written in languages Layela couldn’t even begin to identify.

She heard soft voices and followed them quietly, debating between announcing her presence and scouting things out first. She approached without making a sound. Scouting, it is.

Words were softly spoken and she couldn’t make out any of them, but she thought it was a man speaking to a woman. Between two well-stacked shelves was a small opening, the door half-closed, and she could see from where she stood a man’s hand holding an unfurled map over a small table, his other hand waving emphatically.

From time to time, another hand touched the map, pointing at the large star in the midst of it, with what appeared to be only one planet circling it. Layela had never heard of such a system, and wondered why they spoke of it in such secret.

The hand touched the map again, slender and feminine, and Layela felt drawn to it, so much so that she was pushing the door open before she had realized she was moving. The man holding the map, greying, round and wearing reading glasses, was so stunned when he looked at Layela that his eyes grew larger than his glasses. But it was not on him that Layela’s gaze lingered.

Across the table from him, looking equally surprised and still pointing at the map, she stared at herself, except the eyes looking back at her were of the purest green.

“Yoma?” she whispered, not believing what her own eyes and mind told her to be true.

“Layl?” Yoma’s eyes watered for a moment before she rushed her sister, hugging her hard. Layela bit back a cry of pain, her ribs still bruised, and hugged Yoma just as fiercely.

Yoma pulled back, holding Layela at arm’s length, taking a long look at her. She reached up with her hand. Layela didn’t flinch at the familiar warmth of her sister’s fingers as she touched the nicks Layela had suffered when Sunrise Flowers had fallen.

Instead of asking what happened or showing proper worry, which Layela fully expected, Yoma’s eyes became dark green and she demanded, “What are you doing here?”

The words were softly spoken, but they surprised Layela. Wasn’t it obvious?

“I could ask you the same thing,” Layela replied, not nearly as calmly.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Yoma said, storming past Layela. The map keeper had wisely made himself scarce.

“I know you were just trying to protect me,” Layela said, forcing her voice to remain calm as she came after Yoma. “But it didn’t work. It’s not working, Yoma.” Yoma’s stride didn’t break, and she was almost at the door before Layela shouted after her, panic rising in her. “Sunrise Flowers is gone, Yoma! They destroyed it!”

Yoma stopped but didn’t turn around, only lowering her head — just enough for Layela to see. She felt comforted that her sister cared enough to grieve a bit.

Layela’s voice sounded small and young to her own ears. “Why did they destroy it, Yoma? Why did you leave me?” She wanted to scream, to hang on to her anger, but she could only feel sorrow. She felt like a little girl again, huddled in a damp corner and frightened. She wanted her sister to turn around and tell her everything was all right, maybe that it was even just a bad dream. That her hard work had paid off, and the two of them could work quietly amongst the blooms and be content with a simple life filled with honest work.

Yoma did turn around, but the instant Layela met her eyes, she knew those were not the words that would escape her lips.

“Did Josmere show you?” she asked, green eyes blazing.

Layela felt her fury rising again, against Yoma and Josmere, who refused to let her be a part of what she had helped create. She had been wounded, blood and bones, but not broken. She considered lying to see what Yoma would reveal, but her sister knew her too well.

“No,” she simply replied, thunder welling in her mind.

Yoma nodded, just nodded, and walked out. No explanation, no apology, not even a goodbye.

“Get back here!” Layela shouted as she stormed out of the shop, bumping into Josmere instead. She looked just as stunned to see Yoma.

Josmere opened her mouth, staring at Yoma, but it was Layela she turned to. “They’re here.”

“How do you know?”

“I can sense other Berganda. And I know of no other who would have just arrived.”

“Who’s here?” Yoma asked, darting back and forth between the two, and Layela felt some satisfaction at seeing her sister’s confusion.

She waited a moment, enjoying knowing something Yoma did not. A shot ripped through the quiet neighbourhood and the window beside them exploded into a thousand shards.

“Run!” Josmere screamed, and Layela grabbed her sister by the arm and dragged her along, in case she decided to part ways based on a misguided belief that it would save them. Josmere led the way, the sisters staying close, and at the first alley Yoma darted but Layela held her fast, almost stumbling as she pulled Yoma back.

“We have to separate!” Yoma screamed in short breaths. Another shot was fired, and shards of stone flew from the building onto them.

“No we don’t, Yoma. We never had to!” Yoma didn’t voice any agreement, but didn’t try