The Reluctant Sacrifice

1

A U G U S T

Dread raced up my spine as Mom dragged me into a photo booth and pulled the curtains shut. Digging through her gray backpack, she pulled out a wad of wrinkled cash and stuffed it into my hand.

"Here," she said. "I don't think they saw us, but you'll need it if our luck runs out."

I shoved the cash into the front pocket of my sweatshirt. "How many hunters did Dad send?"

Mom huffed irritably. "I was too busy trying to find you to count."

Even through a curtain of straggly white hair, Mom's muddy brown eyes caused the hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end. I took a step back, but the booth's bench pressed against the back of my legs and stopped my retreat. "Sorry, I got distracted."

"To hell with your sorry," Mom said. "How many times must I tell you there isn't enough magic in these parts to hide us." She grabbed my hand with cold fingers and brought it to her nose. "See! Your flesh reeks of Jumping."

I wriggled my hand free and sniffed it. It smelled human, as human as the shoppers roaming the market outside did, but beneath the smell of flesh and blood was a whiff of something heavy and sweet. Magic.

"Scoot back," Mom said. "I need to see how many hunters we're up against."

"I'll do it." She shot me a dark look, but I squared my shoulders. "I know how to count just fine."

She inclined her head. Feigning a courage I did not feel, I twisted around in the small space. Mom whispered a curse as my backpack poked her in the chest. Ignoring her, I opened the curtains and poked my head outside. Shoppers roamed the market, moving between stalls to haggle with farmers over the prices of summer fruits and vegetables. Most wore hats and glasses to shield their faces from the wicked glare of the afternoon sun. None seemed to notice the kettle of hawks in the pearl-blue sky.

Panic swelled and crashed like a wave inside me as I counted the hawks. Powerful wings carried their feathery bodies, making them look like inkblots against the sky. A silky hawk wearing a crystal-embedded gold medallion in the crook of its neck, led them in V formation. An ache unfurled inside me, starting at the crown of my head and moving to the tips of my toes.

Oh, Joshua.

Mom tugged on my jacket. "How many?"

I did a quick re-count and closed the curtains. "Fifteen."

"Who leads the hunt?"

"Joshua," I said, hating the way his name made my heart swell.

Mom arched a brow. "Do I need to say it?"

"No," I said. "I know he's not here for a reunion."

"Then dry your eyes," she said, savagely. "Tears are for the weak."

Biting my tongue, I dabbed at my eyes. Mom hated me, at least that's what her eyes screamed when she bothered to look at me. I didn't blame her, though. I knew she wanted to love me. It was just that she had lost herself. Jumping bodies had its consequences. One could not rip the soul apart and put it back together without losing precious pieces.

How many Jumps before my soul stopped mending itself? Would I become a stranger like Mom had? The thought of becoming like Mom made my lungs cling to its air. Punching mirrors; screaming at the sight of my own face; spacing out...

I yelped, startled by the appearance of Mom's snapping fingers in my face. "Aubrey, are you listening to me?" she demanded.

"Yes, yes. Of course."