To The Forest - Part Seventeen
This episode is part of a larger story, Soft Touch. If you haven’t yet, you can go back and read it from the beginning right here.
We all gaze up at Thorn gratefully. Seeing our expressions, he has to take a solemn moment to compose himself. He slowly sweeps his hollow eyes over our faces, watching us with a new, fierce protectiveness.
“Then let us begin,” murmurs his whispering voice. “First, what should I know?”
“We think we’ll probably have to do this over a few camping trips,” I explain, then add hopefully - “You’ll come meet up with us again when we come back, right?”
Thorn brightens at this.
Yes, small fauna. I will do that. He tilts his horned head to one side, his eyes turned to two smiling, upturned crescents. How strange. To think that there are human folk who are pleased to see me, and would like to see me again. That does not often happen. I am designed to scare, you know.
“Yeah, that’s definitely part of why we’d way rather have you on our side,” Aiden says, his deep voice full of relief. “But mostly we could really use your knowledge, Thorn. Anything you can tell us about the other five illusions-”
Four, Thorn amends. There are four others.
Aiden, Kasey, and I stare up at him in blank confusion.
“Rose made six,” I remind him.
Yes, once we were six, Thorn answers sadly. But one illusion has already been destroyed.
There’s only total silence from Team Ghost Office following this staggering revelation. Thorn closes his eyes again, looking like he desperately wishes he could explain. He’s obviously struggling with his memory, trying to pull the scraps of it together.
Struck with a sudden idea, I go back into the tent and find Aiden’s backpack. I rejoin the group a minute later with the other five framed pieces of stitchwork magic bundled in my arms. I don’t want to put them on the wet ground, so I spread out my flannel and carefully set them on top of it.
Thorn leans down to examine the pieces as I lay them out before him.
I would tell you all about my brethren, if only I still knew. The whispering rustle of his voice is even softer than it was before. His eyes travel very slowly over Rose’s threadwork. Alas, I can tell you only very little. I have not seen any of the others for a very long time, and my memories are almost faded away. I did not even know my own name, before you returned it to me. But I believe… this illusion… this one is no more.
He points to one of the illusions we hadn’t identified yet. The piece of magic is done in black and chocolate brown thread, with slashing lines of silver. We don’t even know what it was, and it’s already gone.
“What happened to it?” I ask gently, hearing the old sorrow in Thorn’s voice.
Thorn bows his head, winding one hand around his mossy staff.
As I said, it has long been time for us to move on. Some of the magical energy that we, the six, were formed from - it has stayed here long enough to… lose its light. To lose its way.
His pale wooden hand moves slowly to spread over the Sorcerer’s piece of magic.
You must be very, very careful when you meet this one, Thorn’s whispering voice warns us. He has forgotten everything. He will not listen to you. And he has twice the power any of the rest of us do.
Team Ghost Office thinks about that for a second, and then everyone sits back at once, shocked by our simultaneous realization.
One of the illusions was destroyed, and one of the others has double the power that its counterparts do. Almost as if…
“No way,” Aiden whispers, his eyes widening with alarm.
“The Sorcerer destroyed one of the other illusions and stole all of its power?” I ask Thorn, aghast. “Are you serious? He can do that?”
He, too, has had time to grow beyond what he was. And he is a worker of magic by nature. There are many things he can do. Thorn looks at Aiden very seriously. Do not face him until you are sure you’re ready, child. Try to find the others first.
“Cool,” Aiden says faintly. “Sounds good.”
The rest of us will not even cross his swath of the woodlands. I have been cut off from half of the forest by his presence, all this time. This is part of why I do not know how the others fare. I cannot get to them.
“Because you’re afraid to run into the Sorcerer?” Kasey manages.
I would be defenseless against him, little spirit, for I will not hurt him. Thorn meets Kasey’s gaze steadily. He is the most lost of us all, but he is one of us. He wants to go free, just as we all do. But that desire has consumed him, and driven him to darkness.
“Okay,” Aiden rumbles, after another long moment. “Well, that doesn’t sound great. Can’t I just charge you up with my power, Thorn? Send you to go round everyone up for us?”
Thorn points his mossy wooden staff at Aiden’s face, so that it’s only an inch away from his nose.
Now, now, he says, his whispering voice growing stern. I do not think Fate would thank me for fostering impertinence in her son! I’m sure she has her hands full with you already, mischievous one!
Aiden blinks in surprise and confusion, but Thorn keeps going before he can ask any questions.
You cannot simply flood me with your magic, fateling. I am woven from delicate threads, the magic of another. To infuse me with your power would have unknown effects.
“Oh.” Aiden shrugs his shoulders, his blue eyes a little sheepish. “Yeah, that’s probably true.”
And I do not know where to find my remaining brethren. In truth, I cannot picture them, or even name them. I do not know what they have grown into, over time. Thorn bows his head again, closing his huge eyes against the fluttering rain. Even the one you call the Sorcerer, I cannot envision him. My memory diminishes with my power. I wish I could tell you more, little ones. I wish I knew that the others were safe.
Aiden, Kasey, and I all glance at each other, then turn back to Thorn.
“We’ll find them, Thorn,” Aiden promises, his deep voice very serious.
Thank you, fateling, Thorn murmurs, his whispering answer full of earnest gratitude. I am much comforted by that.
“Will you come with us?” Kasey asks.
That would cost me energy, and I should conserve what power I have left if I am to guide you. Besides, with my reserves so low, I do not know that I could leave my section of the forest. He looks like he’s trying to silently apologize to us. But I will strive to keep an eye on you, my little ones, and to aid you as best I can. I may not always be visible to you. Every little bit of power matters, now. I must hold onto what’s left to me.
“Oh, we understand!” I answer, rushing to reassure him. “Hey, even if you’re not with us all the time, you’re still part of the team! Assuming you want to be, that is.”
Yes, Thorn answers, a little shyly. I would like that. Thank you.
“Strange but merry band we make,” Kasey laughs, throwing her arms out wide to gesture to us all.
Thorn smiles brightly with his hollow eyes. I am glad to be part of it.
“Anything else you can tell us before we go looking for the others?” I jump in hopefully. “Anything at all?”
Thorn falls silent. His gaze drops to the pieces of art and magic that the six illusions came from, laid out in two rows on my flannel. His violet-lit eyes narrow as he thinks hard, struggling to remember.
Perhaps… he begins haltingly. This one - stirs some memory…
His hand hovers over the blue and green piece of magic we named the Sea Creature. He stares hard at it for a long moment, then sighs and runs a hand over his lichen beard.
I cannot recall, little souls. I am sorry. I shall think on it more. What I can tell you is that when Rose’s Tree fell, we the six still felt compelled to protect the sacred grove. The others will still try to trick you or frighten you off. They may not recognize you for what you are, or listen to you. As I said, I do not know what they have become. You must be careful. You must be wary.
“We’ll try,” I promise, even though my heartbeat is hammering anxiously in my ears.
“Might be able to navigate better without a huge thorny plant blocking our every move and getting us lost,” Aiden grumbles, with a half-affectionate, half-accusatory glance at Thorn.
Ah, Thorn says, faintly embarrassed. Apologies for that, little one. It is in my nature. I must say, you made it quite difficult. Your sense of direction is not easy to confuse.
Aiden blinks, then breaks into a giant grin. He whips around to face me and Kasey, pointing to Thorn.
“Did you guys hear that? Consider me vindicated!”
“Again, babe, no one accused you of getting us lost-”
“It wasn’t because of my sense of direction, that’s what he said. Bet I can get us back to the coastline today no problem!”
The coastline… no, you must go the other way, comes Thorn’s whispering voice. Deeper into the forest. You are already on the boundaries of my territory. If you move deeper into the woods, you should move into another’s. I would advise you to make it there, find someplace you feel safe, and set up camp well before darkness falls. We illusions are much more effective at night.
Aiden gives him a nervous nod, listening attentively. I can tell that the news about the scope of the Sorcerer’s powers has him worried, so I slip my hand into his.
“We’ll be okay, Sugar Maple. We’ve got a friend in the forest now.”
Aiden bites his lip, then looks anxiously up at the massive forest spirit. “Do you think I can do this, Thorn?”
My growing affection for Thorn soars at his answer.
Of course you can, fateling. Be strong. Be brave. Fate is on your side, and so am I.
~~~~
It was strangely sad to pack up our campsite and leave Thorn behind. We said our goodbyes, then watched him melt out of visibility. He promised to keep an eye on us as best he can, but we’ll be leaving his swath of the forest soon, and he told us he probably can’t follow us beyond it.
Even though we can’t see Thorn anymore, his presence is felt. His part of the wood seems brighter, more open to us, more welcoming. We hike up natural ferny lanes, listening to the birdsong spilling down from the soaring canopy. The rain, which trails off as the day warms up, has activated the rich summer fragrance of the forest. The last of the twinkling droplets cling to the small-footed sedges and lichen-encrusted snags around us.
The day is crisp and bright, with wispy clouds scudding across the sky wherever there’s a break in the canopy. And this time we’re having very little trouble with navigating.
It’s a good time for Aiden and me to fill Kasey in on what she missed from the first part of our conversation with Thorn. She listens in disbelief, every now and then letting out a dazed sputter of laughter. Our voices echo up into the boughs of the trees, the noise of our hiking boots made gentle by the soft tread of the forest floor.
But eventually there’s a gradual shift in the landscape. I’m hit with the sudden feeling that the warm, protective presence that was at our backs isn’t there anymore. I couldn’t say when it happened, exactly, but somehow I’m sure that we’ve crossed out of Thorn’s territory.
This part of the wood is much darker, with trees that plummet so high into the sky that their peaks are lost to the misty clouds. The hush deepens, as does the sense of stillness, as if time itself is standing still. At the same time, it somehow feels windy, or colder, or - something. I don’t know, but it sends a chill down my back. The bands of shadow thrown by the trees seem deeper and darker in this place.
I’m not sure I like this part of the forest. It makes me feel all cold and uneasy inside. Not like something is watching us, the way I felt in Thorn’s part of the forest. This is more like… the breathless anxiety and fluttering heartbeat of knowing that I’m trespassing, and I’m going to be in big, big trouble if I get caught.
The feeling only worsens the farther we go into the woods, until I have a frightened iciness in my chest that seems like an overreaction even to me.
Nothing has even happened, I scold myself. You’re letting a tiny bad feeling explode and run away with you for no reason. Of course it gets darker and colder the deeper into the forest we go, that makes perfect sense. Just calm down.
But the sensation in my chest grows and grows. Until I’m silently and anxiously chewing my lip, twisting the heist ring around my finger.
Aiden is walking a little ahead, but Kasey is at my side, and I’m getting the sense that she’s feeling the same way. She’s fallen quiet, and her eyes are roving the trees carefully, her inky hair swinging around her jawline as she turns her head to check over her shoulder. I know she can’t get cold, but I notice she’s let her jacket rematerialize. She’d happily flung it away in Thorn’s sunny part of the woods, so - maybe this place feels different to her, too. Even in her ghostly form.
I break my eyes away from her in surprise as I nearly walk right into Aiden’s back. He’s stopped suddenly, his powerful shoulders tensed up.
“This…” he murmurs, letting his gaze rove over our surroundings. “This place is setting my hair on end. Don’t like the feeling I’m getting right now at all. Thorn was right. We must be in a part of the forest guarded by someone else.”
Kasey and I look at each other sharply. My heart does a frightened little stutter, and I instinctively draw closer to Aiden.
“Are you scared, Jamie?” Kasey whispers.
“No! No, I’m totally fine.”
“Shifting from foot to foot, staring at the ground instead of making eye contact, voice trembling - ten out of ten lie, Jamie. Perfectly executed.”
“Do love to watch him try, though,” Aiden rumbles, trying not to laugh.
I scowl indignantly, and he smooths a hand over my hair adoringly, then catches my arm and draws me closer to him. Kasey comes closer, too, and we all huddle up together, peering around at the dark woodland in wary silence.
“Does - does anyone else get the feeling that we just wandered right into the Sorcerer’s territory?” I whisper.
Aiden hesitates before he answers. When he does, his deep voice is dropped to a whisper, too.
“My every instinct is telling me that we should get the fuck out of here, so - yeah, I think we might have.”
Kasey and I stare at Aiden in dismay, our eyes widening.
“Shit!” Kasey hisses. Her bright, glowing ghost-light darkens, as if she’s trying to hide herself. “Thorn tells us to keep the Sorcerer for last, and we go strolling right into his territory? That wasn’t the plan - that’s the opposite of the plan, you guys!”
“Thorn said he’s been cut off from half the forest by the Sorcerer, so it makes sense that the Sorcerer’s territory would border part of his!” I press myself up against Aiden as I talk, as if that’ll protect me somehow. “It’s not our fault!”
“Okay, none of this matters right now,” Aiden cuts in, keeping his voice to an urgent whisper. “What matters is that we need to keep moving. The Sorcerer hasn’t noticed us yet, and Thorn said that the illusions are more powerful at night. So I think it’s in our best interest to get out of here while we’ve still got daylight, right?”
Kasey and I nod silently, and Aiden gives his head a beckoning toss.
“Then let’s go.”
We fall into a line of three, keeping to a tight formation, our watchful eyes flicking back and forth between the moss-draped trees and the rocky forest floor.
The bird calls don’t reach here, somehow. I haven’t caught sight of a single animal or butterfly, or heard any of their little noises. The silence settles down heavily over us like a fog, along with actual fog, which obscures our sightlines at every turn.
For a long, long time, we walk in complete silence. The sun moves across the sky without any of us having said a word. Not that we saw it do that. The crowns at the canopy are so dense and tangled here that only the barest slivers of sky show themselves.
Aiden walks on with determined calm and confidence, but I sense that he’s poised to respond if something happens. Every now and then his eyes glitter, as if his magic is waiting just beneath the surface if he needs to call on it.
Finally, after way too much time has passed by this way - something breaks through the smothering silence. The bright, bubbling sound of a stream in movement. Its little song is immediate, infinite relief. Without meaning to, we strike out right for it.
We come across the stream shortly after. It’s a beautiful, splashing ribbon of water, winding insistently through the jagged landscape, bedded with smooth and mossy stones. Miniature waterfalls spill over its crumbling ledges, and a dragonfly skims just above the surface. A fairy forest of fungi is sprouting on the logs along the banks, nourished by the flowing water.
The land beyond the stream looks more forgiving. The sloping hills of the forest floor ease gently into each other. Sunlight filters down through the canopy, mango-golden in color, suggesting that the sun is beginning to go down.
“Oh, thank god,” Kasey sighs, planting her hands on her hips and bending over.
Aiden and I glance at each other, the relief in Kasey’s voice reflected in our eyes. It’s impossible to say for sure, but the woodland across the stream looks like it belongs to someone else.
Aiden catches my hand and leads me down towards the stream, Kasey hurrying along right behind us.
The dark swath of forest seems to watch us go, as if waiting.
Biding its time.
~~~~
This part of the forest, the place where we found refuge - it’s just beautiful.
The stream we found turned out to be part of a much larger network of waterways. Streams and bubbling creeks crisscross each other, filling the air with their gentle rush, flooding some areas. We walk alongside lush, natural sunken gardens, with flowers swimming just beneath the surface.
It’s absolutely stunning at sunset, when the fiery light glows on every wet surface.
This stretch of forest is almost like fen country, and it takes us some time to find a place dry enough to set up camp. But Aiden finds us a high, grassy slope that flattens out with enough room to be comfortable. The thick blanket of grass here is only damp from the mist, but beneath the ridge, the landscape is glimmering with hidden water.
Little splashes and the distant rush of a waterfall fill my ears as I build the campfire. The lilypads drift lazily in the ponds, swaying gently with the breeze. In some places the water is clear as glass, and in others, a lush, almost tropical blue. Everything else is infinitely soft with fuzzy moss, sweet-smelling and overgrown. The land on the slope of our little hill is terraced with ferns, misted with a spray of pale wildflowers. They bob their tiny heads in the breeze.
Our fire is burning brightly by the time night falls, sending up fluttering molten sparks at the stars beginning to show themselves overhead.
Kasey went home right after we picked our campsite. She needs to be careful not to burn through all of her energy, because then she’ll need to do a major recharge.
I miss her glowing presence. She brightens up the camp. But so long as Aiden is with me, I’m okay.
While he puts out the fire after dinner, I crawl into the tent and sink gratefully down onto my sleeping bag. I stretch my sore legs, exhaling a deep, drowsy sigh. I probably won’t be awake for much longer. I’m completely tired out from a full day of hiking, and our tent is peaceful, even though I already miss our house.
I can’t help it. I love our house more and more all the time. I loved it before we even moved in, but now I can look through the rooms and find all the little things that have come to mean so much to me.
The window shutters that Aiden repainted. The rows of my house plants, settled into the deep window sills, some of them beginning to climb the walls. The framed photo that Ralph gave me and the framed drawing that Ripley gave Aiden, hanging up on the wall. Noah’s lights in the green passageway, Raj’s table in the coffee room. The new cat bed Aiden brought home as a surprise for Luna. Pitchers full of blossoms from our garden. The kitchen faucet we had to replace after the old one went wild, memorably sending a geyser of freezing water right up into mine and Aiden’s faces when we were both bent over it, trying to figure out if it was really broken.
The house just feels more and more like ours. I get a rush of pure happiness every time I step inside, and I miss it every time we’re gone.
But Aiden has made even the tent feel warm and cozy. His fireflies drift softly through the air, casting their glow on the slanted walls, making me sleepy with their low light. I watch them move, full of appreciation for them, full of love for Aiden.
He’s what really makes our house so special to me. It’s all him. That’s why I can feel at home even here, out in the enchanted wild.
I sit up and drowsily unzip Aiden’s backpack. The toothpaste tablets are in there somewhere, and I need to grab one before I accidentally fall asleep.
Two books are at the top of Aiden’s backpack, and I mechanically take them out to set them aside. Then I stop and do a double-take, waking up a little more.
Aiden brought two slim volumes with him on our camping trip. The first is titled Caring for Collectibles: New Tips for the Advanced Archivist. My archivist has already dog-eared a few pages.
The second one is what really gave me pause, though. It's a book of poetry, written by Walt Whitman. That’s quite a discovery, because… I love Whitman’s poetry, and I’ve told Aiden so before. I said that to him so briefly, in passing, forever ago. On the night we kissed for the very first time, sheltered beneath the Guardian Tree.
I slowly break into a dazed smile, then trail my thumb over the cover of the book, my heart aching with love. Does Aiden never forget anything I say to him? I’m seriously starting to wonder if, archivist that he is, he lovingly and carefully files my every word away.
I ease the poetry book open and gently turn through the pages, stopping on a poem that Aiden dog-eared. I sweep my curious eyes over the printed words, then stop and read the poem again, much more slowly. I just noticed that Aiden underlined part of it. Four lines.
Among the men the women the multitude,
I perceive one picking me out by secret and divine signs,
Acknowledging none else, not parent, wife, husband, brother, child, any nearer than I am,
Some are baffled, but that one is not - that one knows me.
I stare silently at the underlined part of the poem, then give a little jolt when Aiden slips into the tent on his knees.
“Hi,” he begins, then stops immediately when he sees me with the book.
He blushes, busted reading a book by a poet who I mentioned in passing like a year ago. I could pretend I don’t remember and let it slide, but, you know -
I break into a giant grin, holding up the book. “Digging into gay poets I’ve recommended, babe?”
“Ha, ha.” Aiden sits down and gathers me into his lap with one arm, using his other hand to take the book back. “I actually think Whitman was bi, after reading this. You were right, though, something very gay was definitely going on there. D’you see this part?”
Aiden flips to a different poem and reads a few lines out loud.
“But the expression of a well-made man appears not only in his face / It is in his limbs and joints also, it is curiously in the joints of his hips and wrists / It is in his walk, in the carriage of his neck, the flex of his waist and knees, dress does not hide him / The strong sweet quality he has strikes through the cotton and broadcloth / To see him pass conveys as much as the best poem, perhaps more.…” Aiden looks up, his mouth dropping open in a scandalized grin. “I mean - Walt!”
“No, I know,” I laugh, affectionately winding my arms around Aiden’s neck. “Pretty sure he got lost in the sauce halfway through writing that one.”
Aiden breathes out a huff of soft laughter, setting the book aside so he can hold me with both hands. “Why are you looking at me like that, Keane?”
“I like your walk, and the carriage of your neck, and the flex of your waist and knees.”
Aiden tilts his head back, his warm laughter dancing in his eyes. “Strangely enough that didn’t sound like a lie, but it also didn’t sound like the answer to the question I asked. Why, really?”
“Because…” I shrug my shoulders sheepishly. “Because of the books you had on you. I don’t know. They were both just very - you. And I love you.”
Aiden blinks up at me, then blushes again. He lowers his gaze, smiling to himself.
“God, what - what a day,” he rumbles, hurriedly changing the subject. “I can’t believe anything that’s happened in the last forty-eight hours. We met a forest spirit, right?”
“We did.”
“Had breakfast with it. Then we accidentally strolled through the realm of a dangerous sorcerer, and escaped into territory held by some unknown magical being that has yet to show itself.”
“Mhm, yes.”
“And I am sober, right? I didn’t fuck that up somehow?”
I let out a helpless laugh, pressing my forehead against Aiden’s. “You are sober, yes. But after what we’ve been through, I can understand why you’d be wondering about that. You left off the part where Thorn bowed to you, by the way. What was that about?”
“Ugh - please, dude, I don’t want to talk about it.” Aiden presses a finger over my lips, looking at me with imploring eyes. “Can we just forget it ever happened? It was nothing. Thorn said himself that he’s all mixed up. And speaking of things we should never speak of again - the way we screamed and ran like children the first time we met Thorn? Yeah, delete that from your memory.”
“God, agreed.” I blush deeply with lingering embarrassment. “I’m glad that my dignity died a long time ago. It wouldn’t want to live to see stuff like that.”
Aiden breathes out a helpless laugh, then slips his fingers beneath the collar of my shirt to trace my tattoo. “This whole thing has been chaos. Don’t know why I’m surprised.”
“We’ll be okay. Just make sure you’re ready to fight in case any bears approach the tent.”
“Ready to fight?” Aiden eases me onto my back on the sleeping bags. He straddles me and sits down lightly on top of me, his warm eyes like two beds of blue velvet. “You want me to smash up a bear in a bare-knuckle brawl? My bloodthirsty boyfriend.”
“Yeah, bloodthirsty, that’s totally the right word to describe me,” I laugh, my toes flexing as a little shiver races up my body. I run my hands up Aiden’s thighs, stroking him softly as I gaze up at him with a wounded expression. “As if asking your boyfriend to protect you from dangerous predators is the worst thing you can do.”
The huffing rumble of his laughter vibrates through my body. “Relax, Linden.”
“Okay, what am I supposed to do, not constantly worry about possible bears? Don’t be stupid.”
Aiden spreads his hands on my chest, his blue eyes twinkling softly in the low light of his fireflies.
“I could take your mind off of it,” he purrs, leaning down to put the tip of his nose to mine. “If only you changed your opinion on me getting you messy when there’s nowhere to shower.”
“I will not,” I tell him firmly, even though the feverish heat coursing through my body is begging me to reconsider. “You can give me one kiss - one - mmm - Aiden - one, I said one!”
Aiden’s graceful body shakes with teasing laughter as he sits back. He’s left me frustratingly, achingly turned on, and he knows it. I let out a helpless whimper, then shove him off of me, trying not to laugh.
“That was only one,” he points out, dropping down onto his sleeping bag next to me.
I run a dazed hand over my face. “Felt - felt like five in one!”
“You’re not thinking about grizzlies now, though, are you?”
“Cool, I’m gonna have a really easy time falling asleep tonight,” I complain, getting to my knees so I can zip up the tent. “Now I’m totally calm and chill. Especially knowing that we’re in the territory of some unidentified illusion who’s gonna want to scare us away from the sacred grove. You said you’ve been sensing magic, didn’t you?”
“Definitely, but I can’t tell where it’s coming from.” Aiden glances around, as if looking at something I can’t see. “Seems like it’s all around us.”
“Okay, so who knows what might happen-?”
I break off, falling back sharply to sit on my ankles, leaving the tent only halfway zipped up. I blink hard, rub my eyes, then stare out of the tent at the forest again.
“What happened?” Aiden murmurs, reaching over to tweak one of my red curls.
I stare hard at the clearing, but it all looks the way it was before. The glowing moonlit waters unfolding beneath the ridge our tent is planted on, the trees with their icing of green mold and mushrooms.
“I… nothing.” I run a hand over my stubble beard, then zip up the tent, sealing us inside. “My eyes adjusted weirdly to the light, I think. For a second everything out there looked different to me.”
Aiden sits up, his brow knitted with worry. “Different how?”
“I don’t know, it - it was only for a second.” I bite my lip uncertainly. “Why, was that…?”
“I don’t know.” Aiden catches my wrist and draws me back to him. “Let’s just stay in the tent until morning. Especially since we’re down a flashlight. Someone basically exploded our old one trying to prove he could turn it into some kind of power beam. I won’t say who was responsible for that disaster, because I don’t want to embarrass Noah.”
“Of course,” I groan-laugh, snuggling up into Aiden’s embrace. “You would never do that.”
He wraps his arms protectively around me, then buries a drowsy kiss in my hair.
“Seriously, no going anywhere alone,” he murmurs. “You and I, we stick together.”
~~~~
I wake up with a jolt, then sit up quickly, looking around with wild, unfocused eyes.
My first thought is that I had a nightmare, because I’m panting in a still-dark tent. Somehow I can sense that it’s still the middle of the night, nowhere near dawn.
Some internal voice is crying out in alarm, warning me that something is very wrong. Not in a nightmare, but here, in the real world.
My hands automatically feel across the blankets towards Aiden, and - come up empty.
The last traces of sleep fall away faster than they would have if I had taken an arctic cold plunge. I stare with enormous eyes at Aiden’s empty sleeping bag, then twist around to face forward. I let out a soft gasp, my fingers flying up to my mouth.
The front of our tent is unzipped, hanging wide open.
“Oh, shit,” I whisper.
Without a second thought, I stagger to my feet, seize the flashlight, and rush out into the dark forest after Aiden.
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