Black Stars - The Mors Mortis Trilogy Book 1

Chapter 2 - A Reason To Worry

Know thyself? If I knew myself I'd run away.

- Goethe

The next morning Leah lay in bed, traces of burnt toast filling her nostrils. She could hear Brenton and Alice in the kitchen, working around each other quietly. It had always been that way with her adopted parents; they hovered in an unsteady silence — a hush loaded with tension.

She presumed it'd been different sixteen years ago, before Leah's parents had skipped town and left her on their doorstep. Maybe Brenton didn't drink back then. Either way, Leah made the music these days. Laughter and warm voices with Alice, yells and crashes with Brenton.

She glanced at her desk where last night's clothes hung, the petrol-splattered jacket glaring at her accusingly. She'd have to throw it out now. After what she'd seen she couldn't leave any evidence lying around.

The image still sat on the back of her eyelids, flashing across her vision every time she blinked: the silhouette surrounded by flames, the grotesque parody of a wave. She'd lain in bed all night trying to fight the panic it fed. Whoever that silhouette was, they'd been inside the school, and if they'd recognised her, she was screwed.

A soft knock broke Leah from her thoughts and she sat up. "Come in."

Leah had expected Alice at the door, but found Zarah there instead.

She glanced at the fluorescent 8:30am on her bedside table and then eyed her classmate curiously. "Isn't it a little early for you?"

"Usually," Zarah said, walking in and perching on the corner of the bed. Her gaze moved to the clothes hanging over Leah's desk and narrowed.

The shadows under Zarah's eyes were dark, her mouth set firm, and Leah had a sinking feeling this wasn't a casual visit.

From the day they'd met in pre-school, Leah had practiced reading Zarah's facial expressions. Zarah had been that persistent kid who'd decided, for no obvious reason, to befriend the outcasts.

Her first few attempts at talking to Leah had been met with a barrage of acorns, but after a week of acorn harassment, Leah had become more intrigued than annoyed by her classmate. Somewhere between then and the next year, Leah started having tantrums the days Zarah didn't come.

"Is everything okay?" Leah asked.

Zarah turned to her, dark eyes critical. "Did you set the school on fire last night?"

Leah blinked. "There was a fire at the school?"

"You know there was. You lit it."

Leah shifted off the bed and moved to perch on her desk. She was about to deny it when Zarah caught her eye. Her gaze wasn't questioning, not even curious. It left no room for denial at all. Leah sighed. Zarah was always the hardest to lie to.

"You figured that out quickly."

Zarah groaned. "My God, Leah. Why?"

Leah shrugged with a well-practiced indifference, trying to gauge how angry her friend was. Neither of Zarah's eyes were twitching yet, so Leah figured she was safe for now.

"I don't know. Arelie wanted to."

"Arelie's a psychopath! You're going to be sent to jail if they figure out it was you."

Leah realised she'd been tapping her fingers against the table and pulled her hands away. "I know that."

"What —" Zarah sputtered, her glare fierce. "Well, why the hell did you do it then? We're only a term away from graduation, you're getting out of there soon anyway."