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But then it is gone again.
And I am in the Whisper Woods. Alone. Where did it go?
I try to find it, but everything is moving out of sync, out of time.
It is night here. The trees are looming above me. It is so cold. I miss that warmth. It wasgood. At least the pain has ended.
I look around the Woods, the world and time finally catching up to each other. There are many paths, but there is no light, not even the moon is shining in the blank dark sky. There is just me, and the darkness. And the beings of the Woods. I shouldn’t be here alone.
It isn’t safe.
I was safe a moment ago.
Where did the warmth go? It was so nice. I’ve never felt like that before.
Someone is calling my name. I can hear them, calling from one of the dark paths. The voice is familiar. Deep and rich and melodious. It feels like itshouldbe safe, but cold tendrils of fear creep up my back, making me shiver.
They are still calling. Deep instinct tells me that whichever way they are calling from, I should go the other. But I do not know which way that is.
I take one step, and can feel the leaves crunching under my bare feet. There is a rustle in the trees. My name is calling louder. Why can’t I place that voice? Irritation tickles the base of my skull, the name on the tip of my tongue. There is a rustle again and I jump.
“There you are, Theo, it’s time to come home.” Roan. It is Roan. Roan issafe. I run towards him, his big, muscular body barely visible in the shadows. I can see the outline of his magnificent horns, the glint of his skin and his outstretched hand. Warmth infuses my bones again, chasing away the chill of my fear and the night of the Woods. It feels as if I am running in place to get to him, my feet burning from being scratched in the leaf litter, the distance seeming to grow the more I try to reach him.
When I finally draw near, he changes shape. It is no longer Roan waiting for me. But someone else.
The voice. Darius.
Tall, slim, his perfectly styled blonde hair and sleek suit at odds with the wild woodland surrounding him.
“There you are, Theo, it’s time to come home.” His voice is kind, and his arm is outstretched. Darius. He is right. It’s time to go home. Darius is always right about these things.
I reach out to take his hand, still missing that warmth that was there only moments ago. Where did it go again? I see my hand reaching out, brushing Darius’ long, elegant fingers.
My hand rests in his for a brief moment before his hands snap around mine like a trap and they transform into something wrong and beastly. At once beautiful and golden, ethereal perfection and ghostly deathlike claws.Marieth.
The grasp on my hand is vicious, tugging me forward. I daren’t look up at the hideous being. She was dead. She wasgone.
“Time to come home, Theo,” her incorporeal voice vibrates through every cell in my body. And I scream.
I awaken with a hard jerk, which is extra uncomfortable because I have somehow wrapped myself up so thoroughly in the sheets that I am completely restrained.
A dull throbbing pulses in my skull with even the smallest movements. It hurts so much I give up. Everything aches, and for a second I relish that my body is in such good alignment with my head. I try to blink my eyes open but they are gritty and swollen, no doubt from the masses of tears I shed last night.
After my time in Marieth’s basement, I doubted I would ever have any tears left, but I have definitely proved myself wrong.
Guess I wasn’t such a genius after all.
I laugh bitterly at my own wit, enjoying the biting slice of self deprecation, but laughing hurts my head so I regret it.
Carefully I try to extricate myself from the sheets that are somehow knotted around one of my thighs. Thankfully, I have lost so much weight from my already too skinny body, I can just slip my leg out.
My mouth feels like cotton, and I lick my parched lips, slowly sitting up, swinging my now free legs over the side of the bed. Sitting upright, the throbbing feels so much stronger, it feelsloud.
I realise a little too late that it’s because itisloud. It’s also not coming from inside my head - someone is pounding at the door. I glance down at my pale body, almost an exact match for the sheets, and then back over my shoulder, towards the door. Whoever is knocking is calling for me now.
The little latch is in place, keeping the outside world securely outthere. And me inhere. Where it’s safe.
Exhaustion overwhelms me, despite not having done much of anything. Maybe I don’t need that water after all. My eyes flick from the door to the now cold, untouched dinner sitting on the tiny table and back to the bed.
