Chapter Text
The Abernant sisters used to get along. Adaine knows that because she remembers, however faintly, the moments where her older sister would actually partake in and enjoy the trivial games she made up for the two of them. Or the nights when it would storm, and Aelwyn would find Adaine crying in her room and distract her with games until the lightning passed. Adaine had always been afraid of the storms, but she knew there was no point in going to their mother for comfort, even as young as she was. Still, Aelwyn had been nice, then.
Hearing Aelwyn’s sneer from above, Adaine looks up at her from a corridor of the Metropolitan Museum floor and wonders at what moment their paths diverged.
“Now really, Adaine, this is just unbecoming of you.”
“What do you want?” Adaine murmurs, perhaps too brusquely, but not quite having the mental strength to dial her energy back. She sees her sister’s gaze flicker with annoyance, but Aelwyn is quick to collect herself, throwing her long blonde hair over her shoulders.
“ I’m here because you stormed out of the restaurant unannounced. And you wouldn’t want mother to find out that you’ve been, what, having another breakdown in the middle of nowhere like a child?”
“Oh, mother already thinks I’m a child. If anything, I think you’re the one who’s more embarrassed, judging by how you’re looking around like someone you know is about to turn the corner.” She looks up at Aelwyn smugly, hoping that if she starts an argument, her legs will finally stop feeling like jelly.
“Yes, they might, because Hudol students actually can afford to take trips to places outside of the middle of Bumfuck, nowhere. Oh, wait — isn’t that where your school is based?”
Adaine bites back an insult valiantly, but her anger still comes simmering up. “Just because I failed the entrance exam to Hudol, it doesn’t mean you just get to lord it over me—”
“Oh, I think I very much do. Now come on, ” Aelwyn says, pulling her with enough force that Adaine stumbles into a standing position. “See? You can stand.” Her tone drips with condescension, and not for the first time, Adaine considers punching her in the face.
She yanks her arm out of her sister’s grip. “You act much too condescending for someone who’s spent half of this holiday sneaking out to very illegal parties run by that girl you met — Penelope, was it?”
Aelwyn’s eyes flare with something angry, and outside, the sound of the storm intensifies. Strange, considering it’s the middle of July, but Adaine isn’t one to question the New York weather. “Mother will never believe you.”
“Maybe not — but it’ll certainly make her keep an eye on both of us, won’t it?” With that, Adaine turns to walk off shakily, only making it into the next section of exhibits before Aelwyn grabs her arm again, this time with significantly more force. They're in the Ancient Greek section; it’s nearly empty this time of day, with the exception of a few couples on dates, an older woman with a cooking apron on shuffling about, and a young teen not looking up from a pile of homework, it’s empty.
“Let go of me—”
“Only if you listen,” Aelwyn says, throwing up her hands in exasperation. “God, you’re insolent; what will it take to get you to come back to the restaurant?”
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe my sister not acting like a total bitch and sending me into a panic attack?” Adaine can’t help it; her voice grows louder, and behind her, a thunderclap sounds so loud it makes her flinch reflexively, turning to see the flash of light — it’s got to be close by, judging by how spaced apart the strikes have been.
When she turns back, Aelwyn is still arguing, but for once, Adaine doesn't hear her. Her focus, instead, is on that older woman she saw before — still staring intently at the two sisters.
“—think you’re coming from, but it was not my fault—”
“Shut up.”
“ Excuse me?”
Adaine clamps a hand over her sister’s mouth to shut her up. “Shut up,” she hisses, pulling her sister aside and nodding her head over to the pillar that the woman was nodding against. “We’re being watched.”
Aelwyn just pushes Adaine’s hand away. “Oh please, you’re being paranoid again.” But as she says that, Adaine turns to look at the pillar. The woman is gone.
“—Do you mind if I ask you two dears a few questions?” A hand clamps down on Adaine’s shoulder and she jumps out of her skin. The woman’s face is smiling, though it doesn’t look like it fits her right — there’s something uncanny about it, though Adaine can’t place a finger on what. Her nails are long, and while Adaine shrugs it off quickly, she doesn’t imagine the way they dig in.”
Of course, Aelwyn just sighs. “What kind of questions?” She pauses. “Hang on, were you the buffet server from earlier?”
The woman smiles again, and Adaine takes in the gauntness of her expression, tilting her head to the side slightly. “Some people call me Doreen, though that’s only my middle name.”
“Well, Doreen, my sister and I should really be getting back to our mother—”
“Your mother,” the woman says, still smiling. “And I presume your father is…”
“Out of the picture.” Adaine glares at Aelwyn for giving so much information up at the drop of a hat, but Aelwyn tastefully chooses to ignore her. “But really,” she says, pulling Adaine away (this time, Adaine doesn’t complain). “We should be going, thank you!”
Turning her back on the woman, Aelwyn leans in, whispering to Adaine. “Okay, maybe you were right to be paranoid this time. But it was still very rude to shrug her off like that.”
“Like you weren’t—”
The minute Adaine and Aelwyn turn the corridor, though, they see Doreen standing there again; only this time, something unfurls from her back that at first, Adaine thinks is a tangled version of her kitchen apron — except no kitchen apron shapes itself so perfectly into jagged, leathery wings.
“You know,” Doreen says, her words coming out as more of a shriek. “I’ve always had a particular fondness for those with sisters — reminds me of my own two. It’s a shame they aren’t here — then this would be much more entertaining.”
This time, it’s Aelwyn who freezes, and Adaine who has the common sense to pull her aside as Doreen — or whatever demonic version of her is transforming before their eyes — launches straight at the two of them.
Adaine’s fear kicks in, though thankfully, she doesn’t have the processing capabilities for it to send her into a panic attack. “ What the hell?” Aelwyn yells as the woman — monster? Dinner lady? — curls her fingernails, now growing into talons, barely missing Aelwyn’s shoulder. And Adaine may hate her sister’s guts and be very lost as to what is happening, but she knows one thing. “Follow me,” she whispers, and takes off running.
“Adaine, hold on—”
Tearing across the museum, Adaine stumbles into the other exhibition hall, her breaths coming shallow as she glances around. Most of the people still lingering around scatter with her, pointing at something behind Adaine, running madly and shrieking. She hears someone yell something about getting down on the floor — but that can’t be the right reaction to an evil bat woman, can it?
Aelwyn, fortunately, is still following her. Unfortunately, Doreen is close behind. Adaine’s eyes widen, her fingers twitching for something to distract her. Glancing around the exhibit, she lands on an emergency ‘IN CASE OF FIRE’ glass case right past the statue of a god she recognises distantly — Dionysus, maybe? It doesn’t matter. For a moment, ignoring every aspect of museum etiquette, she runs through the red-rope section and smashes the glass. Pain shoots through her hands. But she fumbles with the inside, ignoring the rivulets of red starting to run down her fingers, and throws the hammer as hard as she can in the direction of the woman.
It hits the completely opposite wall. Alright, not the best plan, Adaine thinks as Doreen’s head — now what she can sufficiently cal l non-human, with her irises flashing red and mouth curling into a hiss — snaps towards her.
Aelwyn and her do the only thing they can and make for the corridors. It’s more running than Adaine is used to. Her sister, of course, is on practically every sports team that would befit a young woman of her status, and far outpaces Adaine, who has always opted to walk the mile on track. This time, though, Aelwyn can’t help but keep glancing back, and yelling some variation of “What the fuck is going on?”
“You think I know?” Adaine yells, her words coming out through gasps. “I didn’t expect your argument to attract a literal demon!” Whether it’s Adaine’s anxiety finally catching up with her instincts or the fact that she’s out of practice, as they turn yet another corner, Adaine is panting so hard she barely recognises the exit to the Met, some ten metres or so away.
They get about an inch into the main hall before a small, gloved hand yanks both sisters out of the way.
“—What the Hades do you think you two are doing?” Eyes adjusting to a very small storage room, Adaine finds herself face-to-face with a familiar figure. Considering the demon dinner lady that just attacked them, the fact that it’s the teen from before shouldn’t surprise her. It does.
The teen is short enough to be younger than Adaine, but there’s a hard glint in his eyes, and he looks like he’s dressed for a business meeting, so she settles for somewhere in the middle. The second surprising thing is—
“What am I — why do you have a gun?” Aelwyn shouts as the kid pulls a pistol out of his previously-slightly dorky briefcase. Though Adaine’s heart threatens to give up on her once again, her mind’s focused on a different question.
“Did you say what the Hades?”
“Oh, gods,” the kid says, clearly realising something as he pinches the bridge of his nose. Gods, plural. “Look, we don’t have time, but that thing? Back there? What do you two see?”
“Some… old lady? Demon? Dinner lady? I don’t know! She wasn’t human, that was for sure,” Aelwyn says, crossing her arms. “Now can you explain why you dragged us into this closet?”
“Because you two,” he says, “clearly have a death wish. Bringing one of the Great Old Ones to a public space? Really?”
While the word Great Old Ones holds no meaning for Adaine, the way he delivers it is enough to send a tremor down her back, where it settles in the pit of her stomach. She opens her mouth to ask, but in that moment, an unholy screeching sounds from outside the closet door. Her heart crawls up to her throat, but the kid just curses under his breath. “You two need to follow me.”
“ Absolutely not, thank you,” Aelwyn says, readying herself to drag Adaine out of there, though the younger sister feels a twinge of uncertainty — or maybe it’s just curiosity. “I don’t need some nerdy kid lecturing me on whatever a Great Old One is, we’ll be just fine.”
Turning on her heel, Aelwyn bursts through the doors — and immediately finds herself face-to-face with Doreen. “That was a nasty trick, dearie!” she grins, before pulling out a long whip from behind her back. “But no worries. My king doesn’t want you dead just yet!”
Aelwyn tries to dodge, but Adaine’s whole body runs cold as she watches the figure lean over Aelwyn (and the Abernants have always been pretty tall, so that’s saying something). And Adaine hasn’t been scared of the dark, or of storms, for a very long time.
But when Doreen digs her claws into her sister and lifts her into the air by her neck, that fear rushes back in a flood. She rushes forwards, but the other kid holds her back. “Normal weapons won’t work ,” he says, before cocking his gun and lifting it up at Doreen with precision. He holds it there for a moment, as though trying to aim, then: “Shit — can’t get a clear shot with all this movement.”
“Then what the hell am I supposed to do?”
The crowds are parting around them en masse, all rushing for the exits. Now would be her chance to run, find her mother, although the idea of explaining why her ‘nice’ outfit is so torn up sounds like hell. But Adaine can’t leave Aelwyn, as cruel as her sister can be.
“Cause a distraction!”
Right. Adaine’s never been a person who draws any attention, but right now, the adrenaline rushing through her veins is enough to persuade her that maybe, she just could be. “ Doreen!” she yells, putting as much confidence into her voice as possible. It comes out as more of an awkward squeak. When it doesn’t get the demon-woman’s attention, she sighs. “ Great Old One!”
That title, at the very least, gets Doreen to snap around. Worse still, it dredges up an old memory from Adaine’s mind. It’s still obscured in fog, of course; but she knows where that title comes from, and has the faintest idea of what’s unfolding in front of them. With the woman’s eyes, yellow and wide, on her, though, Adaine freezes. “Uh — let my sister go!”
“You’re doing a brilliant job, Adaine,” Aelwyn drawls, though her words come out choked. “Brilliant stuff.” Adaine seriously considers leaving her, but then Doreen flies straight towards Adaine, and she barely has a split second to think. Left or right? Her brain supplies.
Her body, meanwhile, chooses the most stupid decision Adaine’s made all day.
Running straight at it.
Clearly, neither Doreen nor Adaine were expecting this, as the force of both barrelling into each other is enough to knock the monster to the side, and one of her many kitchen utensils onto the ground a few feet away. Aelwyn is dropped with an indignant scream which Adaine would absolutely tease her for, were she not instantly hit with what feels like the force of a bus. Blindly, she fumbles for something to hold onto as she lands on the floor. Her hands close around metal, and Adaine lifts the dropped ladle into the air. Not a weapon.
The older woman slashes at Adaine’s shirt, and Adaine winces, fighting back reflexive tears as sharp talons graze her skin. She’s down on the floor with nothing but a ladle — but as Doreen throws herself forwards, she still raises the ladle, a last-ditch attempt.
Several things happen in an instant. The first is Adaine bracing herself for impact, only to hear a loud, metallic clang — and the crash of thunder so loud she can feel the tremors in the ground. The second is opening her eyes to see her sister, eyes wide as the other teen steps practically out of nowhere and, hands shaking, pulls the trigger.
The third is Doreen shrieking as the bullet pierces one of her wings — and Adaine watches several feathers disintegrate.
Ears still ringing from the force of being shoved to the ground, Adaine rolls. Her sister grabs her, helping her up. She’s so stunned by both the rare display of support and the general…mayhem, that she can barely manage to mutter a ‘thank you’. “ Now do you believe me when I say we have to go?” the teen says. “We don’t have much time. Do you want to live?”
Aelwyn looks ready to protest, but Adaine stops her. “Yes— but only if you explain what’s going on. And what was in that gun.”
“Celestial bronze bullets,” the kid says, like any of those words would be familiar to Adaine. “And I’ll explain when we get out of here!”
“Good that everyone’s getting to know each other, but can we do this somewhere else?” Aelwyn shouts, and just as Doreen crawls up from the ground, the three of them burst onto the streets of New York City. It’s raining hard, and between the rush of people and the steady sound of sirens approaching, they slip through unnoticed.
“Won’t we get caught?” Adaine asks. “The police can’t let something like this slide.”
“The police don’t see as much as you think,” the kid says, his expression tinged with something unreadable. “Trust me. The only thing you have to worry about is back in that building.” On cue, another scream sounds from within the Metropolitan, and they pick up the pace of their running.
It’s no effort to hail a taxi here, which is a nice change of speed from what Adaine and Aelwyn are used to. The minute one pulls up, the three of them scramble in. “Long Island South,” the teen says, breathless. “Camp Half-Blood.” He exchanges money with the driver, and, when pressed about where their parents are, the three stammer a response until Aelwyn shoves some more money in his hand and tells him to hit the gas.
Adaine raises an eyebrow in intrigue, but all Aelwyn mutters as they’re all thrown against the back of the seats is “If this is a kidnapping, it’s a very elaborate one. And I am never forgiving you for dragging us into this mess,” she says, jabbing a finger at Adaine.
“Oh, don’t act like you didn’t have a part to play—”
“Actually,” the briefcase kid pipes up, “I think both of you did.” They snap around; he just opens his briefcase to put his pistol back in and comments, “Your arguing was audible to every mortal in a fifty-mile radius, let alone to someone like her.”
Mortal. The way the kid says the words, as though he is… not. The way he excludes himself from that category.
“Who even are you?” Aelwyn says, in that tone she always uses to be condescending. Still, her voice breaks on the last word. Clearly, Adaine isn’t the only one wondering if the label mortal is being applied to them, too.
“Riz Gukgak,” the kid says, stretching out a hand that Adaine takes. “Private Investigator and halfblood — I, uh, normally have business cards, but I… didn’t think I’d be needing to bring them with me to the museum.” Now that they’re in the taxi, he seems much more twitchy, and can’t avoid glancing behind them a couple of times. It doesn’t do anything for Adaine’s nerves.
“Adaine Abernant,” Adaine responds, politeness overriding her questions until it doesn’t. “...I have no idea what a halfblood is.”
“Who’s your parent?”
It’s the second time Adaine’s been asked that question in the last half hour. It hasn’t gotten any less concerning. “Our mother’s an investor,” Adaine murmurs.
“—And she’ll be very mad to find out we ran off on a whim,” Aelwyn can’t help but add.
“Your other parent, ” Riz just says, like it’s the simplest thing in the world.
A familiar jolt of electricity runs down her spine, the way it always does when people bring up her father. She glances over to Aelwyn, but her sister’s face is unreadable. Both were much too young to remember much of him. Both were left to piece together what they knew of him from their mother.
None of it was good .
“Riz,” Adaine says, slowly. It’s mostly not to scare herself, at this point, because her brain is churning a thousand miles an hour and none of the possibilities are good. “Act like I know nothing at all about what you’re telling us—”
“Because you don’t,” Aelwyn interjected.
“—Shut up. Riz, you said the people back there were mortal. So clearly, you don’t consider yourself a part of that group.” Or us, she thinks, but can’t voice that out loud.
“In a way,” Riz says. “I’m half mortal — I can still get hurt, get sick, die. But I also attract monsters.”
“Like Doreen?”
Riz winces. “No. Great Old Ones don’t appear for anyone , and when they do…” He trails off, and Adaine can see the stress baked into his face, as young as he is. “Let’s just say that it sucks, big time.”
“Half mortal, half…” Adaine trails off. Monster.
“God."
There’s silence in the back of the car. Then — “Oh, you have to be messing with us. Adaine, there’s no way you actually believe this.”
“Haven’t you noticed anything off in your childhood?” Riz just asks. “People that follow you around, turn out to be monsters in disguise?” A memory comes to Adaine, unbidden — a primary school bully who Adaine had sworn had one eye, and the subsequent disbelief of everyone she had told. Except that years later, when she asked Aelwyn about it, her sister had admitted that she had checked their primary school yearbooks, and no such student was registered. “Your brain moves too fast for you to catch up with? Letters scramble on the page? They’re all halfblood instincts — training you to survive something like that .”
Outside the window, the busy streets of NYC had started to fade into greener landscapes; Aelwyn had been right to tip the driver that extra wad of cash, because they were going so fast that even the lightning strikes went past them in a blur. “So, what, we’re all the second coming of Christ now? Who’s your father?”
“My father’s a city detective,” Riz replies. “And I’m not talking about god, singular — I’m referring to the Greek Gods.”
Though the words are so absurd that even thinking them makes Adaine want to stifle a delirious laugh, something about the sincerity with which Riz says the words stops her.
Maybe it’s just the storm outside, scaring her like how it did when she was a child. Or maybe it’s the fact that the only subject Adaine has ever met her mother’s expectations in is Classics — and she remembers the old, ancient women with bats’ wings and a whip at their side. “...Doreen's a Fury?”
With enough force to make all three of them jump, another thunderclap sounds just a few miles out, and Riz slams the briefcase closed.
“Don’t say their names!” he blurts out, and Adaine flinches. “Sorry, it’s — do you know how much power saying a monster’s name can have?”
“So Adaine was right?” Aelwyn asks, voice skeptical. “What does it mean, then, if she showed up for us ?”
“Nothing, I hope,” Riz murmurs. He looks like he’s already making their funeral preparations.
“So. You’re saying not only that the Greek gods are real, but that our father was one of them, and we -" she gestured to herself and Adaine - "are their... descendants. Children."
“Exactly!”
“Yeah, I don’t buy it.” Aelwyn leans back in her seat. “What would the gods be doing back in London — scratch that, what would they do in New York City ?”
Riz bristles slightly, and Adaine once again wants to apologise for her sister, but thankfully, he doesn’t say anything, just launches into another explanation. “Look. I’m a halfblood — demigod, either title works. What was one of the most common things the gods did, back in the day?”
“Have children?” Aelwyn supplies, reluctant.
Riz nods. “Well, even after Ancient Greece collapsed, the gods never went away. They became a part of Rome — and later, a part of the western world.” When Adaine and Aelwyn stared at him blankly, he continued: “Think about how many statues there were in that exhibit, or how many paintings reference these stories. You think that’s not a form of worship?”
“So the gods are real. And they have kids,” Adaine summarises succinctly. “Who’s your mom, then?”
“It’s... too complicated an explanation to give in the next five minutes,” Riz says. “Either way, demigods, and monsters, run rampant in New York City. I don’t know how you two managed to evade capture for so long,” he says, pulling a pen and a notebook out and waving it at them, “but judging by the fact that a Great Old One was sent after you, I’d say you both reek of demigod.”
“I don’t smell!” Adaine protests, despite herself. Maybe her sister is rubbing off on her.
“Not to a human, no — but to a monster? Absolutely.”
“Well, isn’t that pleasant,” Aelwyn says, risking a glance out of the window. “Where are we going, anyways?”
“Right!” Riz brightens, like he actually knows how to explain this. “Camp Half-Blood — it’s a place for demigods to lay low, since it’s protected by a barrier from mortals and monsters alike. I normally get away with only a few monster attacks during the year, so I only go for the summer, but you two… well, let’s just say that some have to stay year-round.”
“ Year-round?”
“I’m not saying you’ll have to!” Riz says, throwing up his hands, “just… it’s the easiest way to get Doreen off our backs. We’ll go from there.”
“What if she catches us before we get to camp?”
“Oh, then we’ll all die horribly.” Riz’s tone is much too cheerful.
“Does that often happen?” Adaine asks, voice rising in pitch.
Riz shifts in his seat, and does a vague hand-wave that could really mean anything. “Eh. The more powerful the demigod, the more danger they tend to attract. And considering there were three of us in one museum, I’m not surprised that something came after us.”
Abruptly, the taxi rolls to a stop. “You sure this is the place?” the driver asks, and Adaine looks out of the window, squinting past the rain to see… rows and rows of strawberry fields.
“Oh, we’re absolutely being kidnapped,” Aelwyn whispers under her breath, and Adaine kicks her foot to shut her up.
“This is it, thank you!” Riz just says, hurrying to pack away his notebook (which Adaine notices has filled quite significantly in the last few minutes) and other supplies, but placing the gun into his pocket. “Come on, we don’t have much time—”
“No need to rush us,” Aelwyn mutters, climbing out of the taxi last and wrinkling her nose at the rain that immediately batters them. Adaine’s standing there already soaked through as her sister steps onto the side of the road, rubbing the water droplets off of her glasses only for them to immediately be covered again. “Ugh, I did not wear the right clothes for this weather.”
“We’re running for our lives, and that’s your problem?” Adaine can’t stop herself from biting back. “Can you focus on the situation at hand for one minute?”
“Well, I’m sorry that I actually try to put some effort into how I look, instead of wearing the same old lady dress every day—”
“Because that’s the only outfit you and mother let me wear!” Adaine snaps, her frustration coming to a peak.
Aelwyn looks just about ready to bite back a retort when, in the distance, the steady flap of wings causes all of them to freeze. Riz’s eyes widen. “Get down.”
The three of them drop just as Doreen swoops overhead. Landing with a tumble into a ditch off the side of the road, Adaine pushes herself off the ground, only to see the dinner lady — the fury — turn around on them. Riz fires another shot from his pistol, cursing as it misses. “Alright, we’re about a mile from the camp boundary,” he says, scrambling up. “When I say run, we run, okay?”
Adaine nods, her face pale as Doreen turns around to face them, a screeching noise bubbling up from her throat. She lunges—
Riz gives the shout, and the three of them run.
The distance closes much too slowly for Adaine’s liking. It helps that the land is uneven, allowing them to duck out of sight, but it also means Adaine can’t stop herself from stumbling. The third time, she trips on a loose branch, and collides head-first with the ground. She tries to breathe, but it’s hard to do so with everything swimming before her eyes. That is, until an arm wraps around hers. Adaine looks up to see her sister — and for the first time in her life, sees Aelwyn look genuinely stricken. “It’s not much further,” she murmurs, and Adaine nods, swallowing the fear in her chest.
Through the rain and the storm, she can just about make out a line of trees up a hill, and beyond that, blinking lights. There’s shouting ahead. Riz calls something out to them, but if there’s any response, Adaine doesn’t hear it.
She’s too distracted by the Fury barrelling towards them.
It’s inaccurate to say that time slows. Time slowing would, at the very least, give Adaine time to process; instead, she feels the full force of a body crashing into her at the exact same time as two more pistol shots ring out. But she feels neither the force of being carried into the air, or the sharp sting of claws in her skin.
Adaine looks up to find her sister standing over her, holding the ladle from before — and the moment before she leaps at Doreen, she just drops the ladle into Adaine’s hands and mutters, “Don’t say a word to mother about this.”
A scream bubbles out of Adaine’s throat as her sister’s face hardens.
She doesn’t even process that she isn’t alone anymore — Riz drags her up but she can’t help but stare in horror as Aelwyn fights her, feeling as though she’s unable to draw herself away from watching a car crash. If anyone can fight her way out of this, it’s her sister, Adaine reminds herself. She’s stubborn.
She’s always been stubborn. She manages to tear herself away once Riz and her start running back up. Her ankle hurts like hell, and she’s absolutely torn something — Riz tries to take another shot, but the pistol just clicks, empty. “Shit. I’m out of bullets—”
“Do something!” Adaine screams, and lightning flashes, allowing her to see her sister’s face illuminated clearly. Aelwyn’s brow creases, the same way it always does when she’s irritated over her homework, or chastising Adaine for a mistake she’s made. It’s fascinating, to see that emotion reflected at someone else — especially when it’s mixed so plainly with fear.
She stumbles again, looking back at her sister, but this time, no one catches her. Her eyes are focused on one sight, and one sight only.
The fury tries to wrench her sister into a position where she can slash at her, but Aelwyn manages to get the upper hand for just a moment, and Doreen lets out a shriek as Aelwyn wrenches a couple of feathers from her wings. Blood dripping on the side of her face, her sister grins —
Doreen’s hands close around her throat, squeezing her claws in. Adaine calls out, but it’s too late. Her sister freezes, eyes widening—
Lightning strikes the two of them, and the two of them disappear. She distantly registers Riz pulling her to stand, and yells from just ahead, but she doesn’t notice, her eyes glued on the spot where her sister just was. She should’ve run. She should’ve—
Adaine sways, and, as the storm comes to a peak, her eyes fall on the spot where her sister stood, only to find it empty. Head spinning, she can't stop her legs from giving out. Her head hits the ground, hard.
“—Gods, the Ball, is she dead?”
“How did you even find her—”
The last thing she sees is a blurry image of two figures leaning over her with a frown, one in a blur of orange, the other in a leather jacket. Oh, good. More people to watch me make a fool of myself, Adaine thinks weakly, before she passes out.