doesnât come to that.â
A memory appears in my mindâs eye. Iâm nine years old, sitting on our old ratty couch back in Lower Purgatory. Far-off explosions and screams rip through the night air. I curl into Momâs shoulder, my entire body trembling with fear. Walker sits in the armchair across from us, his colorless face set into grim lines. If the mobs reach our street, heâs here to portal us away to safety. Outside our living room window, the night skyâs horizon is lined with shifting shades of red. Purgatory is burning.
Mom guesses my thoughts and worries. âDonât get too concerned about rioting for now,â she says soothingly. âYou two focus on working with Walker and getting things going again. Just, you know, quickly. Like a few days. Maybe a week, tops.â
âSure, Mom. Weâll do the best weââ
All of a sudden, the sound of ethereal singing fills my head. Itâs high-pitched, childlike and lovely. I press my fingertips to my temples. This shouldnât be happening now. I didnât summon any igni.
Still, the music continues. My brain fills with sweet voices that only I can hear. These are the light igni, the power that draws souls to Heaven. Evidently, theyâve decided that now is a good time to converse via somewhat-sappy music inside my brain. I exhale a slow breath. At least, unlike the dark igni, I can listen to their singing without wanting to scream.
Lincoln gives my hand a gentle squeeze. âWhatâs going on?â
âThe igni have a message for me. Theyâre singing, right now, inside my head.â
Mom leans across the table, her eyes widening. âWhat are they saying?â
I close my eyes to better focus. âTheyâre are saying something about the Furor. A Furor necklace. And the Furor Empress, too. Itâs her amulet. They want me to find it. I think the dark igni were singing about this before.â I open my eyes, and the music fades from my mind. âDoes anyone know what theyâre talking about?â
Mom shakes her head. âNever heard of it.â
Dadâs face becomes still as stone. âWhat do you know about the Furor?â
âNot much. All I learned in High School was sucking up to ghouls.â
âFuror have magic casters,â explains Dad. âTheyâre a tribe called the Hexenwings. They create enchanted stones; no one really knows how they manage it. Royalty have specific stones associated with them, to give them special powers. Rubies for the Emperor, Opal for the first-born daughter, Obsidian for the first-born Princeâ¦â
I can see where this is going, and I donât like the destination one bit. A tension headache crawls around my temples. âAnd the Empress?â
âBloodstone.â
My world freezes for a moment. Donât panic, Myla. It could be a coincidence.
Mom lets out a soft gasp. âI heard about this thing called the Bloodstone Curse. It sucks away a Scalaâs powers and gives it to someone else. Are the Curse and this necklace related?â
âIâm afraid so,â says Dad.
Okay, time to panic. My heart starts pumping a mile a minute. The igni asked me to find something associated with the Bloodstone Curse. Is this their way of telling me that I have it? Could they possibly be giving my powers to someone else?
âThe last time a Scala couldnât move souls, I was there,â explains Dad. âIâve a broad knowledge of demon lore, so whenever someoneâs stuck with a mystery ailment, they call me in. We didnât know what was wrong until we borrowed the Bloodstone Amulet. Itâs unique. Shows the Empress the status of her powers. We tried it with the patient and discovered that his igni were slipping away, moving to the Scala Heir on their own. That was, oh, two thousand years ago now. Today, most people probably remember the Curse and not how it got its