Daimona surged through the woods, shoving her way past tree trunks and branches to catapult herself further and further. In the distance, she could hear shouting, the sound of fighting and gunshots overpowering the serenity of the forest.

  But that was all behind Daimona. Racing ahead, she was alone, leaping over bushes of purple flowers and thorny berries, trouncing through trickling streams of water framed by rich, dark dirt. The air was as cold and crisp as the day she and Norok escaped the white-walled confines of their birthplace. She took it in greedy inhales, savoring the taste of her freedom.

  A blue bolt of fire shot down from the sky. It sheathed itself in the dirt just before Daimona’s feet. She startled, the reverie broken as it came to a halt.

  Flying high above her was Zia, the bandaged tragedy. From her back sprung two, blazing wings of fire, carrying her as she soared down. Daimona ducked, rolling over to avoid the trailing paths of fire Zia left in her wake.

  “Stop!” Daimona shouted, shielding her face from another blue bolt. The collision seared her arms. Zia slung another, forcing Daimona backwards.

  “I said stop,” Daimona repeated, focusing all of her energy on Zia’s form. But she could feel her magic sizzling away, unable to penetrate Zia’s stark white facade.

  Zia tilted her head. A bolt remained poised in her hand, teetering on the palm of her gauntlet. Daimona could feel those cold eyes surveying her from behind the mask.

  “Oh,” the dry, hoarse voice uttered. “You're not actually asking, are you? You're trying to make me.” Zia hurled the bolt down, piercing Daimona’s shin. Daimona dropped to one knee as the fire vanished, leaving a perfect burn mark in her uniform pants.

  “Zia, w-w-wait!” Daimona's mouth fell open as she imitated Bash’s voice. She locked the sound to a knotted branch behind Zia, hoping to distract her enemy long enough to close the distance between them.

  The bolt in Zia’s hand fizzled, but she didn’t turn around. Instead, she stepped closer to Daimona, the slow careful movement of a predator closing in. Daimona tried to stand, but her vision began to tilt and waiver as Zia came closer. Her whole body felt like it was melting from the inside, the heat inside her rocking back and forth like the waves of the sea. Zia stretched her hand out, and as Daimona looked down, she could see something emerging from her chest.

  “It’s okay,” Zia said softly, and her tone was so genuine, Daimona felt inclined to believe her. “I won’t hurt you anymore.”

  She reached down, pulling the bolt from Daimona’s chest. There was no pain to the motion. It was like falling asleep; all of the momentum, the adrenaline pumping through her to win this race, was suddenly pulled from her. Zia cupped the back of her head, pulling it into her chest.

  “I won’t let you…” Daimona murmured. Her nose was flooded with the scent of daffodils and linen, a soothing warmth resonating from Zia’s body to her own.

  “I’ll tell them you did very well,” Zia replied, hovering over Daimona as she drifted off.

  In the dark behind her eyelids, Daimona’s thoughts stirred. She pictured herself being carried, someone’s arms cradling her close. She was small now, a child with ratty pink hair and a growling stomach. She whined, her fingers digging into the shirt of her caretaker.

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  “Shh,” a boy’s voice came from above. “It’s alright, I’ve got you.”

  She wanted to push him away, walk with her own two feet, but the exhaustion overwhelmed her. The boy drew her closer, squeezing her tight.

  “Mona, you have to wake up now. This is really important,” he said.

  “Don’t tell me what to do,” Daimona grumbled back. The boy chuckled.

  “Stubborn as always… Listen to my voice. Hear the sound I make,” he said. The boy began to hum a familiar tune. The melody wrapped around Daimona, rushing through her ears and melding with her bones. Her eyelashes began to flutter open.

  “...Norok?” she asked, throat sore with sleep. But the mirage disappeared, and she was looking back at Zia’s mask. Zia’s arm tensed under her.

  “How did you--”

  Daimona cut Zia off, brutally toppling the smaller girl with her strength. She shoved Zia to the ground, ramming her knee into Zia’s chest as they both rolled over. Daimona slammed her head into Zia’s, the mask cracking at the impact. Sparks of fire began to shoot off from her fingertips. Before she could move, Daimona punched her in the jaw, causing a loud snap.

  Zia lay motionless under her. Daimona scooted down, placing her ear against Zia’s chest. The heartbeat beneath was low, but undeniably present. Not that Judith had banned killing.

  The thought began to spiral inside Daimona’s mind. She could kill Zia. Would anyone stop her? She looked around. Closing her eyes, she could hear footsteps not too far off. Five, ten minutes behind maybe. That was more than enough time.

  Looking down at Zia’s unconscious form, something bubbled inside her. Before, yes, she was hungry, for bears and rabbits and weaklings. But this hunger was ancient, a bellow from the deepest parts of her soul.

  “You’ve been hungry since before you were born,” Norok once joked. Now, Daimona was sure that was true. She crouched over, pushing Zia’s head to the side. Her fingernails began to transform before her eyes, growing and sharpening to a visceral point. Fascinated, she used them to cut the bandages covering Zia’s throat. The fabric sliced cleanly. Carefully, she tucked a lock of pink hair behind her right ear, and leaned over Zia. The pounding in her mind came to a climactic swell, when suddenly--

  “Daimona? Are you okay?”

  It was Will, silver-soaked baton in hand. Daimona was breathing heavily, eyes darting from Will to Zia and back again. He waived the baton at her impatiently.

  “Hello? You all good there?”

  “Uh--” Daimona scrambled. Her mind was sobered now, the ancient hunger subsiding. “Yeah, yeah.”

  “Were you about to bite her?” Will asked, eyes wide. “That’s--”

  “Going above and beyond orders,” Norok finished, frantically shoving past Will. “A model private really.”

  Norok jogged past Daimona, narrowly avoiding a rock-spear emerging from the ground. “Can we go? They’re really close.”

  Will snapped to attention, bolting forward. He shouted over his shoulder, “Get going, Daimona, we don’t have time for you to be back here!!”

  Daimona picked herself up, glancing one more time at Zia before sprinting on.