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“Maybe.” I’m not convinced though, she’s never let herself into any of our rooms before. It’s just not like her.
“She can’t have left, can she?” Cove asks, frowning.
“Highly unlikely. She’d have to climb over your balcony and drop down onto the sand below.” As I’m speaking, I cross the space and look out of the window. “Doesn’t look like she’s done that.”
“So she’s still here somewhere.”
“Must be.”
“Malia!” Cove calls, much louder than I did. She doesn’t answer. “If she’s here, why isn’t she answering us?”
“Maybe she went down to the basement and we just missed her. I’ll go and look. You go ask the others to help find her.”
“Fine.”
As I make my way down to the basement, my mind starts racing with all the possibilities. What if Malia is hurt? What if she’s sick? Or worse, what if she’s running away from something? I shake my head, trying to clear the negative thoughts. It’s better to stay calm until we find her.
The basement is dark and eerie, and I have to fumble for the light switch. When the lights come on, there’s no sign of Malia, so I head back upstairs.
“She’s not in the basement,” I tell the others once I’m in the kitchen.
“We’ll each go and check our rooms just in case. Maybe she’s in my office,” the professor suggests.
“I’ll check it, and your room too so you don’t have to deal with the stairs.”
He nods his thanks and I take off, pausing only when something occurs to me. “Check small spaces,” I call to the others, recalling Malia telling me that her parents once locked her in a cupboard for days on end as punishment for some slight or other, and that, rather than becoming afraid of small spaces after that, she embraced them and made them her safe space.
I don’t know what may have triggered her, but if she hasn’t left the house, she has to be here somewhere, and I get the feeling that this memory might be the key to finding her and discovering what’s wrong.
“Found her!” I sag in relief when the cry goes up a few minutes later and I race upstairs to see where Malia was hiding. It was Cove who shouted, so I head for his room even though we already checked it.
The door to his room is open and he’s standing in the doorway to his closet, his silhouette lit up in a blazing blue.
“Shit,” I hiss.
“Malia? I’m going to come in, okay? Don’t move.”
That blue light can only mean one thing, Malia has found – and somehow activated – one of Cove’s weapons. The mystery is how? She shouldn’t be able to see the blades that we carry, much less activate their magic.
This can’t be good.
“What’s going on?” the prof calls from downstairs.
“Bhodi, go and keep him in the kitchen. Tell him we’ll be down in a minute. I want to check Malia’s okay.”
Bhodi gives me a nod and leaves.
“Here, Cove. Let me,” I say, gently moving him to one side and pushing my way into the doorway.
I take a deep breath and step into Cove’s closet. As soon as I enter, I’m hit with the scent of Malia’s fear. She’s huddled in the corner, her eyes wide with terror as she clutches something to her chest.
“Malia, it’s me,” I say softly, trying to keep my tone calm and reassuring. “Can you tell me what happened?”
She shakes her head frantically, but I can see the tears streaming down her face.
“It’s okay,” I try again, taking a step closer. “You’re safe now. Let me help you.”
That’s when I see what she’s holding. It’s one of Cove’s knives, the blue light still pulsing around the blade. She must have stumbled upon it in his closet and tried to pick it up, never realising the power it held.
