ZIELLE
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Arieth freezes. "What… was that?"
"I'm scared, Arieth!" Lyla gasps. "Someone's here—"
"Shut up!" Arieth snaps, but her voice wavers now. Like the bravery is slipping out of her and fear creeping in.
From my hiding place, I whisper, low and barely audible—just enough for the echo to carry:
"You don't belong here."
My voice sounds scary even to me. Especially in the dark aisle and the howling wind that comes out of nowhere. It's like the magic book is doing me a favour.
This place truly knows how to stand on the truth's side.
The shadows deepen. A book falls from a shelf across the aisle with a loud thud like someone just smacked it down.
Arieth lets out a sharp scream.
"I-I think we should go," Lyla stammers.
"No, wait—"
Another shelf groans, wood creaking unnaturally. A second gust blows past them like someone rushing by, except no one is there.
"Leave," I whisper again, low and deep, voice curling around them like mist. "Now."
