My eyes struggled, my consciousness shifting from wake to sleep, sleep to wake. In the distance, the clamber of hooves—-a stampede of antelope running from a tiger perhaps. Ever louder, the sound quickly grew until it muffled so loud in my ears, I realized I was about to have hundreds of hooves flattening me. I shot up, fully alert. 

The ground thundered. I whipped my head around a little too late as hordes of not Antelopes, but Shadow beasts charged for me. 

I shrieked and curled up armadillo-style into a tight ball, waiting for the crushing impact of hundreds of claws coming down and skinning me to the bone. Within seconds, they stormed all around me, but I surprisingly felt no pain as the beasts, rather than trampling or shredding me . . . phased right through me instead. 

I uncurled from my spot as the last few beasts ran past me, disappearing over the hill. Disbelief furrowed my brow. Before I could ponder, I heard a woman’s voice—“Stop, please, stop.” 

I jerked toward the sound. Etisha stood not far from me, her perilous gaze fixed to the black, writhing crowds beyond. A man wielding a spear snuck up behind her. Etisha didn’t seem to notice. She stared ahead. 

“I didn’t ask for this— I only wanted to help them.” If she were ready to say more, she was cut off by a spear through her chest. 

She gasped, droplets of blood splashing from her mouth.

Just as sudden, the man yanked out the spear, leaving Etisha to collapse onto the ground at his feet. She heaved for breath. “It isn’t finished,” she rasped. “Not until”----shakily, she lifted her head toward the beasts, her eyes soft even as they reduced men to ribbons, huts to rubble—”Not until I…I—” She couldn’t get the last word out. She collapsed and lay still. 

I watched the scene unfold and then vanish as it came to a close. Yet I hadn’t the slightest clue on what I’d just witnessed. 

Then, a voice—Etisha’s voice— spoke behind me.“Not until I save at least one.”

I hastened to look behind me and was right. There she loomed, her dark hair flowing in a vacant breeze. Her bright lips twisted into something sort of like a smile. “What bothers you, did you see a ghost? Ah, right, right.” 

My hackles raised. The words bursted out of me before I had much time to think. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be dead!”

Etisha’s expression softened. In some way, she looked almost disheartened. She shrugged. “I am. You will be, too, soon.” 

My blood icened. Any words of protest died as I remembered hollow-yellow eyes and the point of a spear through my chest, covered in my own blood. Suddenly weak, my legs trembled beneath me. 

 “No, you’re lying.” My voice came thin. I glanced back at a beast stomping on what was left of a smashed hut, before returning the look back to Etisha. “You should be one of them!” I pointed. 

“Should I?” She tipped her head to one side, the tips of her mouth tugging upward. “I died determined, yes, but not angry. Never angry.” 

I frowned; I didn’t understand. My expression must’ve given that away— Etisha laughed before continuing, "emotion is what ties our bodies to this world. To die indifferent means to return as a wildebeest or as a simple squirrel, even.” Just then, she gestured toward a squirrel as it scurried up a tree. “To die wanting more from life is to be reborn into another form in a different time, to have another chance at life. To die at peace, is to move on beyond the material plane and ascend to greater heights. And then to die angry, hateful even. . . “ Etisha’s words trailed, her expression turning mournful, perhaps regretful. She sighed. “I never meant for this to happen. I only ever wanted to help them. But it looks like even after death, my destiny is merely to wreak havoc.” 

My lips thinned into a tight line. It was a lot to take in, but if I understood. . . did this mean there was a way to save Sang from his beastly shell after all? 

I hoped so.

“Is that why you’re still here, then?” I said, "because you want to save one?”

Etisha nodded. “Yes, but all my other counterparts were as good as dead whenever they realized they had powers. Each and every one of them died quickly and angrily.” She held my gaze. “You’re the only one I’ve had the honor of speaking with.” She took a deep breath before adding, “Feba, please, if you can, don’t die hating this world.” She settled her hands on my shoulders. “You’re the only hope there is of breaking the cycle. If you manage to save him—”

“The curse will be broken,” I finished for her. 

Eyes shimmering, Etisha smiled and gave a laugh. “Exactly.”

I returned the smile, but it vanished just as fast. “But how do I save him?” 

Etisha nudged my chin up, her eyes meeting again meeting mine. “Let your voice reach him, and with each dying breath, let him know that it’s okay to let go of that anger he’s been holding onto.” 

Before I could reply, light flooded my vision.