Book 8: It's Already Begun

Ella

Dim lighting casts the space in a strange, unnerving glow. 

I pace along the wall, running my fingers over the strange carvings that seem lost to time and make little sense to me, despite over two decades of learning every custom and legend about Eastonia and its dark history. 

Even Amanda’s not sure what these murals and carvings mean or depict, but we’re in agreement that we’re deep underground in the ruins of some old temple to some lost god. 

Amanda rushes out a breath and slumps into a dusty armchair, which looks out of place in the sitting room where we’ve spent the last two days. Maybe it’s been two days. I haven’t seen the sun since before the eclipse began and everything absolutely unraveled. 

“I can’t shift,” she breathes, closing her eyes. “My powers are shot.”

“Me neither,” I grumble, tucking my filthy, dust covered fingers in the pockets of the simple dark cotton pants I’d been wearing the nig