The group instantly reached the room where Lydiana hid her body, and Destery was disappointed in Kasey for his lack of imagination. The two of them hid all the time during their missions. An empty room with a closed wardrobe was obviously going to be one of the first places to search.

They swept their way into the bedroom and found the old man sitting placidly on the broken bed with Lydia's unconscious body beside him, one arm blanketed by a blue flame.

Anyone would wake up screaming in agony if their body was on fire, but not Lydia. That was only a shell of Lydia.

"Welcome," the Volucres smiled, eyes narrowing on the girl in Kasey's arm. "It is nice to see you again, Lydiana. Although I did expect our departure not to be so early."

Lydiana scowled. "I did not...say...yes."

The man shrugged. "But you would. I know you would. I would have made certain of it."

"Can you stop burning her arm?" Kasey demanded.

The enemy snapped his fingers and the blue fire instantly extinguished itself, showing no burn marks.

"I would never truly hurt Lydiana's body. It is too important."

"Why is she important?" Kasey inquired.

The man cackled.

"You cannot tell? Just by looking at her?"

"Well, certainly the spirit detachment is-"

"Idiots." The Volucres beckoned Kasey over. "Bring her to me. Slowly. Gently."

Begrudgingly, Kasey brought Lydia towards their enemy and placed her on top of her body. The three Volucres' watched in amazement as Lydia's spirit sunk into her body like falling into a lake.

Lydiana opened her silver-blue eyes and sat up instantly, scrambling away from the man beside her.

Kasey and Destery attempted to reach for her but the dark suited Volucres held one fireball at them in warning.

"Careful. She is mine."

Destery and his partner squared their shoulders. "We don't think so."

With no warning, Kasey was on the ground, a small flame sphere driven through his torso.

It happened unnaturally fast, and Destery could finally understand why the enemy was so proud of being older and warned them to walk away.

"Kasey!" Destery knelt to him immediately, hearing Lydia cry out in surprise.

The look on Kasey's face was pure frustration. No pain, no fear, just anger at the possibility of yet another failure.

"Dester..." Then, as anticipated, Kasey burst into thousands of small, flickering, blistering hot ashes.

Destery looked at a sickly pale faced Lydiana stumble backwards and press herself against the opposite wall, confused and frightened.

Of course she would be. She just saw Kasey turn into a pile of ash. Any normal human would be petrified-even ones as abnormal as her.

Defenseless and on his knees, Destery cursed himself and waited to be dusted as well.

But he remained alive, and he dared to look up into the widened eyes of the other Volucres. Then Destery realized he wasn't looking at him, but at the broken window reflection behind Destery.

"Lydiana," the enemy began slowly, "what are you doing?"

"What...is going on?" she demanded, holding a shard of mirror glass against her neck. "Why did he turn into ash? Why am I so important to you? Who are you, really?"

"These are excellent questions that I will certainly answer once you put down that shard," the Charcoal cooed.

Lydia flicked her eyes to Destery, telepathically sending him a message he did not understand.

Reluctantly, Lydiana dropped the shard.

"Good girl. Now, go stand over here," the evil captor gently ordered.

As she moved towards the door, she silently slid the piece of glass towards Destery with a slight kick of her foot.

Destery knew the Volucres wouldn't hesitate, and neither should he. Destery would hate himself for what he was about to do, but if Lydia really was so important to the man, then there was only one way to win.

It is for me and Kasey. For what we sacrifice our lives for.

Destery's only regret was that an innocent person had to be a part of this.

The Volucres lashed out with one of his fireballs and Destery could feel the heat burn against his gut.

"No!" Lydia cried, rushing towards Destery with desperation he wish he had not seen for what he was about to do.

As she leaned over Destery, calling his name, apologizing rapidly, telling him it would be alright, he wanted to say that he already knew that. It was always alright on his side of life.

But Destery was not positive it would be the same for her.

Destery yanked up the piece of broken glass she had secretly passed him, knowing that she intended for him to use it on their enemy.

But that couldn't kill the Charcoal. Not unless Destery hit him in the right place, and his suit was too thick to penetrate. There was only one other person that it could kill in this room, and that would be the downfall of that damn Volucres.

Destery may not know his scheme for capturing Lydia right now, but he would eventually. His Illuminos would show him.

Destery's hand that grasped the glass drove right into Lydiana's heart, and he could feel it slow, saw her desperation turn to stunned betrayal. The boy who had attempted to save her life had also ended it.

I am so sorry, Lydiana. Truly.

The dark Volucres howled an ugly gurgling sound.

It was the last thing Destery heard as he blew up into ash and died...again.

...

When Lydia had threatened to kill herself, she was bluffing. She did not want to die-no one should want to die. But when Kasey mysteriously exploded into ash, she could not help but panic.

What was she getting herself into? Fireballs, boys that could move extraordinarily fast and could turn into ash and...her? What about Lydia?

Lydiana did not want to see more people die and she knew if she stayed with Mr. Fisherman, she was guaranteed a lifetime of misery.

Which is why she secretly passed the shard glass to Destery. She thought if anyone could kill Fisherman, it would be him. Destery would avenge his friend, they would escape safely, and both attempt to go on with their tragic, pathetic lives.

But then he was burned. Lydia could not bear to see him turn into ash like Kasey, so she collapsed on top of him and told him the words all dying people like to hear, as if that could prevent the process.

Especially the words: "You will be all right." Even if it was a lie, and they both knew that, it was the concern that made the dying happy. Lydia knew that if she was dying, she would want someone to tell her that it would be all right, that she would be okay.

As if Lydiana had jinxed herself, or perhaps Destery read her mind and was eager to give her a taste of her own medicine, he drove the shard straight into her chest.

Cold overcame Lydia. Any emotion of caring for others was washed away by arctic water.

Destery? Who is Destery? Someone died? Oh well.

She could hear Mr. Fisherman scream in outrage-and that was the only split second of joy she had.

Then Lydiana realized: "Ah, Destery killed me to make Mr. Fisherman pay. To make him suffer." But what about me? Why were my feelings not taken into consideration?

She wanted someone to tell her that it would be all right, that she would be fine, but Destery burst into ash instead.

Then she felt her whole body quake with unbearable scorching heat and watched as her fingers began to unravel like black sand, blending into Destery's remains.

Ash? Am I shedding...ash?

Maybe the fear of dying was too much. Maybe Lydia was hallucinating that she was dying like one of them, too.

But Mr. Fisherman did say she was important. She was so unfortunately, cursedly, important.

As she burst into a pile of black sand, the last thing she felt was Mr. Fisherman's clammy hands try to capture her one last time.