Enemy Fire | J. Saltzman - Legacies [3]

T H I R T Y - O N E

Rushing into her room, Josie isn't surprised when the dark version of herself appears when she picks up the crystal. "Thought you didn't want to talk to me."

"I don't but this is Sanskrit. I took one class on it last year, but I've forgotten everything," Josie says.

"Sorry, um, why should I care?"

"Because I said I've forgotten. I'm sure my subconscious hasn't."

"Again," her double grins, continuing to push her to places she refuses to be pushed. "Why should I care?"

"Because I do!"

"Now you're starting to get it." Taking the parchment, the dark version of herself translates. "It says, 'To stop someone from becoming a Berbalang, you need a pearl-bladed weapon."

"Perfect, Dad has a dagger like that in his study. He uses it to open bottles—"

"Ah-ah-ah! Not so fast. The weapon needs to be imbued with an enchantment." Her double arches a playful brow. Flaming anger courses through Josie's veins. "And there's no witch here to cast a spell like this, and Lizzie's not back yet, and fae magic just won't cut it."

"I know what you're trying to do," Josie snaps. "I'm not gonna take back my magic just so you take me over."

"For the last time, I don't need to take you over." Her double tilts her head and narrows her eyes. "And I was never controlling you. I already live right here."

Josie swipes the apparition away from touching her forehead. Her hand freezes for a moment as if she were submerged in ice water, making the following warmth ten times more welcoming. "You're about to be evicted."

"There's the girl I know. The tough bitch that buried the hatchet in me. The one that said she was both strong and good."

Looking back, Josie cringes at how cheesy the words sound. Stella may very well have laughed if she ever heard those words leave Josie's mouth.

Her double's grin softens as thoughts of Stella almost consume her whole. The panic she has pushed aside all day brims along her mind, ready to implode around her. Her soul quivers and lies in wait as if begging to be completed—begging for the magic, for Stella.

"Look, kid, you've known for a while that this is not what made you dark. You are not what went dark," her double says. "Nyx made you dark. And you saw what happened to Nyx. No matter how hard Stella tried, she still lies there on that altar, waiting for a slip-up. You think I'm trying to manipulate you? I'm doing what Nyx did to Stella. I'm trying to save your ass."

Josie glances away, trying to push down her fear that snakes itself around her heart and squeezes. "I never want to be you again," she whispers.

"That's all up to you." Her double settles back on Lizzie's bed and crosses her legs. "Ticktock, Jo. What are you going to do?"

Her eyes drift to where her coin would be. With only a second of hesitation, Josie takes the small copper piece into her hands and races away to imbue the dagger.

By the time she finishes, she can already hear a commotion. The fear rises in her throat, growing with each passing step, but as she comes up to the room, the fear simmers down. A warm phantom hand grips hers as she thinks: What would Stella do?

Create a bit of drama and kick ass.

"Liar!" She hears Hope shout, her voice rough and warped.

"I didn't know Berbalangs were so judgey," Josie quips as she steps into view with the doors to the school behind her. The perfect position to dramatize the situation. As she holds up her coin, taking the last bit of her magic back, the fire in the fire pit erupts, the flames licking up the sides of the chimney with the deep reds and even hidden blues expanding and growing as a flame should. "You want something to eat? Eat this."