The One That Lied {Book Two in The One Series}

Chapter One ~ Meet Syrie

MAY

Chapter One

Meet Syrie

            Golden sunlight streamed through the birch forest, but that’s were the beauty ended. The ground was soft with moss, and flowers grew, but it was eerie. No birds sang, the trees didn’t move and not a sound could be heard but Adalyn’s own quick breathing.

She was running, bare feet digging into the moss, looking around wildly; a child was crying somewhere in the distance, and she had to get to her-she had to. Adalyn ran deeper into the forest, and suddenly the forest was no longer beautiful and golden, but dark and dead.

“Momma!” cried the child, her voice echoing off the dead trees, their black leaves drooping and falling slowly to the forest floor.

“Syrie?!” Adalyn cried, turning around frantically; she had to find her baby, she was crying for her and she couldn’t come. “Syrie, love, where are you!?”

“Momma!” the cries grew even more distraught and Adalyn gripped her hair wildly as tears streamed down her cheeks.

“Syrie!!” she screamed, falling to her knees as the same cold voice that had penetrated everyone’s mind during the battle broke through her mental walls, hissing in her ear.

"I know that you are preparing to fight…" The voice hissed "…Your efforts are futile. You cannot fight me. I do not want to kill you. I have great respect for the teachers of Hogwarts. I do not want to spill magical blood…"

Adalyn screamed “No! Leave her alone! Leave everyone alone! Please?!”

"Give me Harry Potter," said Voldemort's voice, "and they shall not be harmed. Give me Harry Potter and I shall leave the school untouched. Give me Harry Potter and you will be rewarded."

“NO!!” Adalyn screamed with all her might, hands gripping hr hair, desperate to rid her mind of the chilling voice of a monster that had been dead for three years.

“Adalyn…” the voice morphed into Lucinda Quinn’s, soft and reassuring “Adalyn, sweetie…”

Tilting her head upwards, Adalyn saw her mother, standing a few feet away wearing the same white gown as she had the last time Adalyn had seen her. “Mum? Mum, help me…he was Syrie…help me…”

“Do not make the same mistakes I did, Adalyn.” She warned, her voice slowly fading “Give Syrie her father…she needs Harry…”

A violent wind took up, shaking the black leaves from the trees, whispering in Voldemort’s voice; telling her just how he was going to torture her little girl. He would take her little neck, wring it until it popped off like a doll and hang it above his mantle. He would take her pretty little fingers and toes and-

Adalyn sat up, gasping for air. Her sheets were tangled around her legs, and a slight whimpering could be heard from the other room. Sighing in relief, she untangled herself and left the room that used to be her mothers for the one that used to be hers, now occupied by her daughter.