Black Feather
Nicole Pulinger, Group 3: Fiction, Harrow International School Hong Kong
Prologue
n 220 BC, Qin Shi Huang, the first emperor of China, looked disdainfully at the aged prophet who lay by
his feet. She had matted black hair and was flanked by two imperial guards. “Very well. Let the prisoner
speak,” Said the emperor. The prophet stood up, and without hesitation, screamed, “You must stop! The
wall will unleash hell upon us, for the spirit’s shadow will bring the end of China!” The prophet choked,
and spat blood on the floor with the ferocity of a gunshot. “Please, emperor Qin Shi Huang! Stop now
before it’s too late!” The emperor gave her a bored look. “Take her away,” he said. “No! You must stop!”
Suddenly, the prophet fell to the floor, and her face turned purple. She was choking and retching, and her eyes
swept across the room to the window. A dark shadow crossed the sky, and she knew in her heart that it was too
late, much too late. It had come.
She slumped to the ground, dead.
Chapter 1
The wind blows as I sit here on the Great Wall of China.
How did I get here? I don’t know. I can’t remember anything since Lyra went missing.
I’m Sophia, Lyra’s sister.
We fought that day. Over what, I can’t remember. My mother separated us with a stern look on her
face. “It’s supposed to be a fun trip,” she scolded. “It won’t be fun if you keep arguing.”
It’s hard to believe she’s the same person who scolded us that fateful day. Now she seems so distant.
She won’t eat. Won’t drink. Won’t sleep. But I don’t care, not now, not ever.
Lyra let out an angry hiss, spun around on one foot and stormed off towards a guardhouse. My parents
spoke for a moment, and then went in after her. I didn’t, because I had won the argument. I didn’t have time to
chase after losers.
Just like that, she was gone. My parents searched the guardhouse, calling her name. Screaming her
name. But she was gone. Just gone.
Chapter 2
Running. Racing along this beastly stone dragon that had stolen my sister. Coming out of a guardhouse,
I slip and graze my palm along the floor. I feel no pain. Is it bleeding? I don’t know. I see vultures circling
overhead. “Good idea,” I whisper.
I curl up here and die.
I’m flying now. I arch my dark wings, flying slowly with deep, heavy flaps. I see a pair of male and
female inferiors shouting frantically. “Sophia!” the male yells. I hope they find their Sophia, whatever it is.
Suddenly, a deceased inferior chick catches my eye, with its odd head-feathers the colour of my wings. I lean
towards it, and a name enters my mind. Lyra?
The world is engulfed by blackness.
Chapter 3
With a gasp, my eyes fly open. The vultures give alarmed cries and rise up into the sky. Was it just my
imagination, or did that amber-eyed vulture linger a moment longer than the others? I watch them turn into tiny
specks in the cloudless blue sky. With a grunt, I sit up. I hug my knees and rock back and forth. It was quite
impossible, flying as if I was a vulture myself, and waking to find the vulture I dreamt I was. Suddenly,
realization hits me full on. I scramble to my feet and break into a run. I had seen Lyra in a dream, but now I
knew where she was. How far away was it? A mile? Maybe two? I sprint towards the dazzling sun, sending dirt
flying up as my feet pound against the stone.
How long have I been running? A few minutes? It feels like hours. But as I approach Lyra’s mangled
body, I lose track of time completely. One glimpse of her torn flesh, gouged eyes, her blood-matted hair brings
on a wave of fresh nausea. As I get closer, the smell of decay overpowers me. I killed her. I’ve got no amber
eyes. No wings. No sister. I’m nothing. A speck of nothingness. Out of nowhere, the tears are streaming down
my face. I refuse to wipe them away. As I look away, something catches my eye, and the gentle wind blows in
my face as I approach it. When I realize what it is, fear grips me in its icy claw. A single black feather. A
shadow passes overhead, and I know what it is before I see it. The amber-eyed vulture. Its knowing eyes filled
with hatred. “No,” I think. With an ice-shattering cry, the world disappears beneath me.
Chapter 4
I pummel it with my fists, screeching. I’m engulfed with mind-numbing terror, a whirlwind of feathers
I