Firelight Read Online Free PDF

on strings. Dad helped me hang them after we paint-ed the ceiling blue. He told me it would be like sleeping in the sky.
    A bitter sob scalds the back of my throat. I won’t sleep in this sky ever again, and if Mom has anything to do with it, I won’t fly either.

    Hours later, while the township sleeps, we creep through Nidia’s fog. The very thing that protects us, hides us from the outside world that would harm us, aids in our escape.
    Once we turn off our street and move onto Main, Mom sets the car in neutral. Tamra and I push as she guides the vehicle through the town center. The school and meeting hall sit silently, watching us with darkened windows for eyes. Tires crunch over loose gravel. My calves burn as we push.
    Holding my breath, I wait, listening for the alarm as we approach the green arched entrance of our township. Nidia’s little ivy-covered cottage looms ahead, a guardhouse nestled at one side of the opening. A dull light glows from the large mullioned window of her living room. Surely she will detect us. It’s her job to let nothing in—or out.
    Every pride has at least one shader—a draki who shrouds the village with fog, as well as the mind of any human who should stumble within. Nidia’s fog could make a person forget his own name.
    Her talent surpasses my own. The pride lives in fear of her death…the day our grounds will become exposed, visible to passing aircraft and anyone who travels deep enough into the mountains.
    I hear nothing from her house. Not a sound. Not even when I let the soles of my shoes slide and grind against the gravel a little too loudly, earning a glare from Tamra.
    I shrug. So maybe I want Nidia to catch us. Once we clear the arch, Mom starts the old station wagon. Before I climb in, I take a final look behind me. In the soft glow of Nidia’s living room window, a shadow stands.
    The pulse at my throat skitters wildly. I inhale sharply, certain she will sound the alarm now.

    The shadow moves. My eyes ache from staring so hard.
    Suddenly the light vanishes from the window. I blink and shake my head, bewildered. “No,” I whisper. Why doesn’t she stop us?
    “Jacinda, get in,” Tamra hisses before ducking inside the car.
    Tearing my gaze away from where Nidia once stood, I think about refusing to go. I could do that.
    Here. Now. Dig in my heels and refuse. They couldn’t overpower me. They wouldn’t even try.
    But in the end, I’m just not that selfish. Or brave. Unsure which, I follow.
    Soon we’re whisking down the mountain, rushing into the unknown. I press my palm against the window’s cool glass, hating the thought of never seeing Az again. A sob wells up in my throat. I didn’t even get to tell her good-bye.
    Mom clenches the steering wheel, staring intently out the windshield at the little-traveled road.
    She’s nodding. Nodding as if every bob of her head increases her determination to do this.
    “A fresh start. Just us girls,” she proclaims in an overly cheerful voice. “Long overdue, right?”
    “Right,” Tamra agrees from the back.
    I glance over my shoulder at her. As twins, we’ve always shared a connection, a sense of the other’s thoughts and feelings. But right now I can’t read past my own fear.
    Tamra smiles, staring out the window as if she sees something in all that black night. At least she’s finally getting her wish. Wherever we’re going, she’ll be the normal one. And I’ll be the one struggling to fit in a world not made for me.
    I belong with the pride. Maybe I even belong with Cassian. Even if it breaks Tamra’s heart, maybe it’s right. He’s right. I don’t know. I only know that I can’t live without flight. Without sky and moist, breathing earth. I could never willingly surrender my ability to manifest. I’m not my mother.
    How can I fit in among humans? I’ll become like Tamra, a defunct draki. Only worse. Because I would remember what being a draki felt like.
    I once saw a show about an amputee who lost his