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I woke up choking on smoke that wasn't there.
My lungs burned like I'd been breathing ash, but the air in my crappy studio apartment was just stale and cold. The heater never worked right. I sat up too fast and my head spun, stomach twisting into knots. Something was wrong. Something was—
"You need to stay down."
I froze.
The voice came from inside my skull. Not my thoughts. Deeper than that. Like someone whispering directly into the space behind my ribs.
"What the hell," I said out loud. My voice cracked.
No answer.
I pressed my palms against my eyes until I saw stars. Maybe I was still dreaming. Maybe the soultaker had scrambled my brain before Cole—
Cole.
I remembered the black fire. The way it had punched through my chest and burrowed in like a living thing. The stone creeping up his neck. Marcus standing over him, talking about assets like Cole was already dead.
I'd left him there.
My hands were shaking. I shoved them under my thighs and tried to breathe. In through the nose. Out through the mouth. The guild medic had taught me that after my first patrol went sideways and I'd puked in the armory. Didn't help now.
"You did what you had to." The voice again. Quiet. Steady. "They would've locked you up."
"Stop it," I whispered. "Stop talking."
"I'm not trying to."
That made it worse somehow. I stood up and paced to the window. Outside, the street was empty except for a guy walking his dog. Normal. Boring. The kind of normal I used to hate because it meant another shift scrubbing blood off guild floors.
Now I wanted it back.
"Who are you?" I asked.
Silence. Then: "Cole."
"Bullshit." I turned away from the window. "Cole's voice doesn't sound like—"
I stopped.
Because it didn't sound like Cole. It sounded like my mother.
Not exactly. Close enough that my throat closed up and I had to sit down on the edge of the bed before my knees gave out. I hadn't heard her voice in ten years. Shouldn't even remember it clearly. But this was her cadence. Her way of pausing before she said something important.
"It's not my voice," the voice said. "I know. I can hear it too."
"That's not possible."
"None of this is possible." A pause. "But here we are."
I wanted to scream. Wanted to rip the black fire out of my chest with my bare hands. Instead I just sat there, staring at the water stain on my ceiling that looked like a bird with broken wings.
"What did you do to me?" I asked.
"Kept you alive."
"By putting your soul inside me?"
"Part of it." He sounded tired. "The part that was already burning out."
I rubbed my face. My hands still smelled like antiseptic from the warehouse. "So what. You're just gonna live in my head now?"
"I don't know."
At least he was honest.
I pulled my knees up to my chest. The locket was still around my neck. I could feel it, cold against my skin. Cole had called me Clover. My mom's nickname for me. The one she'd only used when we were alone, when she was braiding my hair or reading to me before bed.
How did he know that.
"You knew her," I said. Not a question.
"Yes."
"How."
Another pause. Longer this time. "I can't tell you that yet."
"Can't or won't?"
"Both."
I wanted to throw something. Settled for digging my nails into my palms. "You said she told you to give me the locket. When?"
"Ten years ago."
The year she died.
My chest hurt. Not from the black fire. Just the regular kind of hurt that never really went away. "What else did she tell you?"
"To keep you safe."
"Great job with that."
"You're alive."
"Barely." I stood up again. Couldn't sit still. "And now Marcus thinks I'm some kind of asset. What does that even mean?"
"It means he knows what you're carrying."
I grabbed the locket. It was warm now. Warmer than it should be. "This? It's just—"
"It's not just anything." His voice—her voice—got harder. "That seal is older than the guild. Older than the war. And if Marcus gets his hands on it, a lot of people are going to die."
My mouth went dry. "What kind of seal?"
"The kind your mother died trying to keep hidden."
I sat back down.
Outside, a car alarm went off. Someone shouted at someone else to shut it off. Normal sounds. Normal night. Except nothing was normal and I was talking to a dead man wearing my dead mother's voice.
"I need to see you," I said. "The real you. Not this—" I gestured vaguely at my own head. "Not this."
"I'm in the guild med bay. Assuming Marcus hasn't moved me."
"They'll arrest me if I go back."
"Probably."
"So what am I supposed to do?"
No answer.
I waited. Counted to thirty. Nothing.
"Cole?"
Still nothing.
Panic flared in my chest. "Hey. Don't you dare go quiet on me now. Cole?"
"I'm here." He sounded farther away. "But I can't hold on much longer. The seal I used—it wasn't meant to last."
"What does that mean?"
"It means I'm fading. And when I'm gone, whatever I put inside you fades too."
"Good," I said. Didn't mean it.
"Ivy." He said my real name for the first time. "You need to find out what's in that locket before Marcus does. Your mother didn't die for nothing."
"She died in a training accident. That's what the guild said."
"The guild lied."
I wanted to argue. Wanted to tell him he was wrong, that my mother had been careless, that she'd pushed too hard and paid for it. That's what they'd told me. That's what I'd believed for ten years.
But I'd also believed Cole was just a useless night guard.
"Go to sleep," Cole said. "I'll show you."
"Show me what?"
"Where she died. Who killed her."
My hands were shaking again. "I don't want to see that."
"You need to."
"Why?"
"Because the same people are coming for you."
I stood up and walked to the window again. The dog walker was gone. The street was empty. But I could feel it now. The weight of being watched. The prickle on the back of my neck that meant someone had eyes on me.
I stepped away from the window.
"If I fall asleep," I said slowly, "and you show me whatever you're talking about—how do I know I'll wake up?"
"You don't."
Great.
I looked at my bed. Looked at the door. I could run. Pack a bag and disappear. Change my name. The guild had enough problems without chasing one grunt apprentice halfway across the country.
But they'd chased my mother.
And they'd found her.
"Fine," I said. "But if I die in my sleep, I'm haunting you."
"I'll be dead too. So that works out."
I almost laughed. Didn't.
I laid down on top of the covers, still fully dressed. Boots and all. The locket was a hot coal against my collarbone. I closed my eyes.
Nothing happened.
I waited. Tried to relax. Couldn't. My mind kept spinning, chasing the same questions in circles. How did Cole know my mother. Why did Marcus want the locket. What was in the damn thing anyway.
"Stop thinking," Cole said.
"Can't."
"Try."
I focused on my breathing. In through the nose. Out through the mouth. In. Out. The mattress was lumpy under my spine. The radiator clanked. Someone upstairs was playing music too loud.
In. Out.
The sounds faded.
I fell into darkness so fast I didn't even feel it happen.
---
When I opened my eyes, I was standing in a field.
Not a real field. The grass was too black. The sky was the color of a bruise, purple and green and sick-looking. And everything was on fire.
Not normal fire. The same black flames that had come out of Cole's chest. They ate through the grass without making smoke, just heat that pressed down on me like a hand.
"Where are we?" I asked.
Cole was standing next to me. Not the half-stone version from the warehouse. The real him. Tall. Dark hair pulled back. Face too sharp to be handsome but close enough. And his eyes were wrong. Gray. Empty. Like looking into fog.
"My memory," he said. "From ten years ago."
His mouth moved but the voice was still my mother's. Seeing it happen made my stomach turn.
"Can you fix that?" I pointed at his face. "The voice thing."
"No." He looked away. "I told you. I'm not controlling it."
I wanted to push. Wanted to make him explain how a man could talk in a dead woman's voice. But the fire was spreading. Crawling closer. I could feel the heat on my skin.
"What am I supposed to see?" I asked.
Cole pointed.
At the far end of the field, someone was walking through the flames. They didn't burn. The fire bent around them like water around a stone. I couldn't make out details. Just a silhouette. Human-shaped. Moving toward us.
"Who is that?" I asked.
Cole's face went blank. "The target."
"Target?"
"The person I was sent to kill."
The figure got closer. The fire got hotter. I could see details now. Long coat. Hair tied back. Something in their hand. A blade maybe. Or—
No.
A locket.
The same locket hanging around my neck.
The figure stepped out of the flames.
It was my mother.
She looked exactly like I remembered. Exactly like the photo I kept hidden in my drawer. Same sharp eyes. Same half-smile like she knew a joke no one else did.
She looked at Cole. Then at me.
"Hello, Clover," she said.
I couldn't breathe.
Cole grabbed my arm. His hand was freezing. "Don't answer her."
"Why not?"
"Because she's already dead. And if you talk to her, you won't wake up."
My mother tilted her head. Still smiling. "Is that what he told you?"
Her voice was exactly right. Exactly how I remembered it. Warm. Safe. The voice that used to read me bedtime stories and promise everything would be okay.
"Ivy," Cole said. "Look at me."
I couldn't.
My mother took a step closer. The black fire followed her. "You've grown up so much. I barely recognized you."
"Mom," I whispered.
"Don't," Cole said.
But it was too late.
My mother smiled wider.
And the field started to burn.