Page 1 of Crescent Kingdom

PROLOGUE

AGE NINE

Billy was sad. The teacher should’ve known just by looking at him. The way his head was bent, eyes focused on his hands. How he kept sniffling as he tried to keep the tears at bay. I’d learned to match the way people looked with their feelings. Because if I saw it before I felt it, I could sometimes make my shields stronger. But others, I wasn’t fast enough.

Like now.

I’d been listening to Ms. Meyer talk about molecules, watching her draw them in a rainbow of colors on the whiteboard, and I hadn’t seen it in time. Billy’s sadness reached out with icy claws that tried to shred my chest. His hurt wanted to make a home in me, like I’d called to it in some way.

But my mom always said I couldn’t let it in. That if I took on the world’s pain, it would drown me. So, instead, I hid that I could feel it all.

We hid a lot, Mom and me. Like what our real names were and who we were running from. Like the fact that I was half wolf and half caster. But most of all, that I couldn’t just take on the world’s feelings. I could heal them. Only if I wasn’t careful, that healing might make it so I never woke up again.

“Sarah,” Ms. Meyer began, pulling me out of my thoughts—thoughts that weren’t on her lessons at all. “Can you tell me what part of the atom electrons circle?”

I clenched my hands, my fingernails digging into my palms. The pain helped sometimes. If I could give myself that, it would distract me from the hurt hitting my shields.

But Billy was so sad. I didn’t know why. I never got the why. I just knew the emotion. Sometimes, I could even name it before the person experiencing it did.

My head started to pound, like it always did when there was too much.

“Sarah?” Ms. Meyer asked, crossing to my desk. “Do you have a headache?”

My mom told her I got them, just like she told every teacher I’d ever had. If it got to be too much, I was supposed to ask to go to the nurse. But I’d already missed half a day this week. I didn’t want to miss another.

I took a deep breath and focused on my heartbeat the way Mom had taught me. “My Little Wren, listen to the song inside you. As long as you hear your voice, you’ll always be able to come back to yourself.”

I heard the bah-bump, bah-bump, bah-bump of my heart. I listened to the song that was mine alone. And then the headache and pain in my chest began to ease.

Slowly, I opened my eyes. “The electrons circle the nuclei.”

Ms. Meyer’s lips twitched. “Sometimes, I need to close my eyes to think of the answer, too.”

“Weirdo,” Tara muttered from behind me and to the right.

My shields were already up, so I couldn’t feel her anger and hate. I was used to that coming from her. Knew that I needed to guard and block because ugly feelings lived in her—not just toward others but for herself.

“Tara,” Ms. Meyer warned. “We don’t name-call in this class.”

Tara just let out a huff of air in response.

“All right. Now, who can tell me—?” A knock cut off Ms. Meyer’s words. “Come in.”

The door opened tentatively, and Ms. Alder, the school receptionist, stood in the entryway. Her face was pale, and her eyes were wide. The image said fear, even with my shields up. She swallowed, her throat struggling with the action. “We need Sarah in the office.” Her gaze darted to me and then quickly away again.

Sarah. That was me.

I had to remind myself of the name I was supposed to answer to. It changed so often—every time my mom decided we’d been someplace too long. It was hard to keep up with.

Ms. Meyer nodded, a hint of worry passing over her expression. “Of course. Go on.”

Tara made a snickering sound behind me, but I ignored it. All I could think about was the look on Ms. Alder’s face. Fear. Shock. Those weren’t good emotions. They were the kind that clawed and sliced when I let them in.

I did what I always did. I searched for the reason. I was always trying to find the source. Because if I found that, maybe I could fix the feelings in another way—some way that wouldn’t end with me never waking up.

My worn sneakers squeaked against the linoleum as I wove through the desks to get to Ms. Alder. The moment I reached her, she put a hand on my shoulder.

Comfort.