The Disappearance of Ember Crow Read Free

in strange scratchings that I couldn’t understand. Words. They were words. I’d forgotten how to read. I glared at the note until the scratchings finally made sense.
Do you remember the story of the girl who wanted to die?
    “Do you know what she means?” Georgie asked.
    “I think so. Give me a minute, okay?”
    I edged back, leaning against the tree and staring at the note. Ember loved her stories. She’d told me, once, about a girl who wanted to die, until someone spoke six words to her that made her want to live instead. I was such an idiot; it had taken me an embarrassingly long time to realise Ember was talking about herself.
    When Georgie and I had arrived in the Firstwood four and a half years ago, Ember was already here. A runaway, the same as the rest of us. Only she’d run with her dad, and he’d died on the way to the forest. I thought back to that first conversation, trying to remember exactly what I’d said that had made such a difference to Ember. She’d been heartbroken over losing her dad. And I’d known what it was like to be knocked out by grief, because my little sister had died right before I left Gull City. The difference was that I’d had someone who needed me to get back up again. I’d had Georgie.
    And, suddenly, I knew the six words that had made Ember want to live.
    I needed space to breathe for this. I glanced at the others, my gaze skittering past Connor to rest somewhere between Georgie and Daniel. “Can you all move away a bit?”
    Everyone stepped back and then, when I kept staring, stepped back further still. I slid to the ground, the rock in my hands. The earth was damp, but there was no point in trying to stay on my feet. The memory would be overwhelming; they always were.
    Pack Leader padded over and lay down beside me.
I am here
. I wanted to reach out and ruffle his fur. I didn’t. He wasn’t a pet. Instead I nodded at him, and he gave me a toothsome grin in return.
    I held the rock up to my mouth, cupping it between my hands.
    “You’re not alone,” I whispered. “You’ve got us.”
    Energy emanated from the stone, buzzing into my hands, up my arms and spreading through my head.
    And I was yanked into a moment in Ember’s life.

THE MESSAGE
    I placed the mirror on the ground and sat cross-legged in front of it. The solar lamp to the right of the glass cast enough light through the gloomy interior of the storage unit for me to see my reflection – short red curls, mismatched eyes and a worried expression. This was how Ash would see me when she accessed this memory. I attempted a smile, only rather than making me look less anxious, it made me seem slightly crazed.
    Giving up on the smile, I spoke instead. “Hi, Ash. This memory is a message. From me to you. I’m going to give it to Nicky – that’s the dog – to take to you, and it’s to show you … I mean, to tell you …”
    My words were tangled, like my emotions and thoughts. I took a moment to unravel some of the knottiness that was twisting my stomach and tried again. “I know you’ve experienced someone else’s memories before, but that was different. The last time you saw small snapshots of Connor’s life. This is … more. You’ll understand every second of what I’m thinking and feeling.”
    There, that was better. An explanation. I was good at explanations. I went on in a more confident tone, “It’s like this, Ash. You and I both know that there is no rebel Illegal who calls himself the Serpent, except someone claiming to be that person is appearing at rallies against the Citizenship Accords. And from the descriptions we’ve heard of him, I might know who he is.”
    Had I said too much? I didn’t think so, but I was walking a very fine line. If I ran into – I jerked my thoughts away from names. If I ran into certain people, I wanted to be able to say that I hadn’t told Ashala anything about them. Because it was difficult to lie to them. Not impossible, but not easy, and I didn’t want