The pull started on the fourth night.
I woke from another round of spirit attacks, my mark burning and my body exhausted. But underneath the pain was something else. A tug. A compulsion. Like a string tied around my ribs, pulling me toward something.
Toward the Pool.
I tried to ignore it. Tried to tell myself it was just exhaustion, just trauma from drowning, just my mind playing tricks after too many nights of blood light and hungry spirits.
But the pull grew stronger. More insistent. Until I couldn't think about anything else.
I sat up in my alcove. Dawn was still hours away. The others slept fitfully. Astro's breathing was labored from another night of fighting off spirits. He'd need rest. They all did.
I stood quietly, moving toward the door of the White Den.
"Don't." Astro's voice cut through the darkness. "Whatever you're thinking, don't."
I turned to find him sitting up, his silver eyes catching the dim light from my mark.
