Kira's POV
Blood. So much blood.
Neteyam's chest won't stop bleeding. I press my hands harder, but the red just keeps coming, warm and sticky between my fingers. His eyes find mine—scared, confused, dying.
"Kira," he whispers. "Don't let them—"
Then he's gone.
I scream and wake up gasping in the dark.
My hands shake as I check them. No blood. Just my own sweat making my palms wet. But my heart won't slow down. It never does after the nightmares.
Three months. It's been three whole months since Neteyam really died, and I still can't escape it.
A small body crawls into my hammock. Tuk's warm arms wrap around me tight.
"The whispers again?" my little sister asks softly.
I nod, not trusting my voice yet. Tuk doesn't need to know that the whispers are getting worse. That Eywa's voice—the Great Mother who's supposed to guide us—doesn't sound gentle anymore. Now she sounds urgent. Demanding.
Find the flame. Seek the forsaken.
I don't know what it means. I never know what Eywa's visions mean until it's too late.
Like with Neteyam.
I saw his death two weeks before it happened. I saw blood and ash and Sky People weapons. But I couldn't understand the vision clearly enough to warn him. To save him.
What good is being blessed by Eywa if I can't protect the people I love?
"It's okay," Tuk whispers, patting my arm like I'm the little sister. "You're safe now."
But we're not safe. None of us are.
I look out the window at our temporary shelter—just another borrowed space from another clan that's afraid to keep us too long. The Sky People hunt my father because he used to be one of them. They hunt all of us because we're his family.
"Kira?" Tuk's voice gets smaller. "Are we ever going to have a real home again?"
Before I can answer, voices rise from the main room below. Dad's voice, tight with worry. Mom's voice, sharp with anger.
"—can't keep doing this to them, Jake!"
"You think I don't know that? But where else can we go?"
I slide out of the hammock carefully, pulling Tuk with me. We creep to the ladder and peek down.
Dad paces like a caged animal. Mom stands with her arms crossed, looking ready to fight. Lo'ak, my other brother, leans against the wall with that angry expression he always wears now. Spider, our human friend, sits quietly in the corner.
Everyone looks exhausted. Broken.
This is what running does to a family.
"The Ash People sent word," Dad says finally. "They're offering us shelter."
The room goes silent.
"The Ash People?" Mom's voice turns dangerous. "The ones who reject Eywa? Who worship fire instead of the Great Mother? You want to take our children there?"
"I don't want to," Dad says. "But we're out of options, Neytiri."
My heart pounds. The Ash People. The whispers said something about seeking the forsaken.
Are the Ash People the forsaken?
"It could be a trap," Lo'ak says.
"Everything's a trap now," Dad shoots back.
As they argue, the whispers start again in my head. But this time, they're different. Stronger. They feel like fingers pressing into my skull.
The flame waits. The forsaken call. You must answer, daughter. You must go.
I grab the ladder to steady myself. Tuk looks at me with wide eyes.
"Kira? You're glowing."
I look down. My bioluminescent freckles are lighting up brighter than they ever have before, pulsing like a heartbeat. Like Eywa is trying to send a message through my own skin.
Everyone in the room turns to stare.
"Kira?" Dad moves toward me. "What's happening?"
I open my mouth to answer, but the words that come out aren't mine:
"She must go to the ash. She must find what was lost. The seed must be planted where faith burned away."
My own voice speaking Eywa's words. It's never happened like this before.
Mom gasps. Dad looks terrified. Lo'ak and Spider exchange worried glances.
But before anyone can speak, a horn blares outside—the warning signal.
"Sky People!" someone shouts. "They found us! Everyone run!"
Explosions rock the shelter. Screaming fills the air. Dad grabs his weapon. Mom pulls Tuk close.
And through the chaos, through the fear, Eywa's voice pounds in my head like thunder:
The flame is waiting. And if you don't find him soon, everyone you love will burn.
Him?
Who is HE?
But there's no time to ask. Dad is shouting orders. Mom is dragging Tuk toward the exit. Lo'ak grabs my arm.
"Move, Kira! NOW!"
As we run into the night with fire and bullets chasing us, one thought burns in my mind brighter than my glowing freckles:
Eywa is sending me to the Ash People. To someone in the ash.
To find a boy made of flame.
And somehow, I know with absolute certainty—finding him will either save my family or destroy us all.