Page 36 of The Shadow Sanctum

I shake my head but don’t pause my counting to respond.

“Sawyer, it’s gonna rain. We need to get moving.”

I hold up a finger. I just need ten minutes tops.

I glance up at the sky, then back at the stick. A slow inhale. A slow exhale. The wind cuts through my jacket, but I stay still. The shadow moves, just slightly. Not enough.

Angel exhales sharply. “We don’t have a lot of time.”

“Luna said no one has ever survived this challenge. There’s a reason why… Just trust me.”

I crouch, watching the shadow intently as I count. When I get to six hundred seconds, I mark the shadow once more, line my feet up at both ends, and close my eyes against the chill that whips through me.

That woman is such a clever little bitch.

“In dense forests with consistent shade, moss tends to grow more on the north side because it gets the least sunlight.” A strange smile tugs at my lips.

For about half a second, I stop being mad at her.

I turn myself about seventy degrees and jab a finger toward the opposite direction of where we were heading. Uphill and toward the road. We’re gonna have to cross it, go over the hill, and we should find the Shadow Sanctum somewhere on the other side. “It’s that way.”

CHAPTER 13

LUNA

Ifind Father in the common room of the Hearth.

He’s sitting in a chair, lost in a story as he gestures with his hands to the twelve little girls crowding the floor in front of him.

As I hover in the doorway yet to be seen, I let my eyes roam the faces of my father’s audience. The girls at the front stare up at him in wonder, one with eyes so wide her irises get lost in a sea of white. Persephone’s sister is in the back with a melancholic gaze pointed toward the window and her chin resting on her fist.

Somehow, I didn’t think about the impact Persephone’s disappearance would have on her family.

A coo draws my attention to a Nurturer rocking a toddler in a chair to my left, content to merely observe as I am. She must feel my gaze because she glances up at me with a start. The flinch only lasts a moment, but her body remains stiff as iron as she nods. She looks away before I return the greeting, her body angling away as she tries to resume rocking.

This catches the toddler's attention. She fidgets on the Nurturer’s lap and tips her tiny chin up at the woman. She’s rewarded with a tap on the nose.

Motherhood has never had much appeal, so the pang in my chest as the child’s lips bloom with a grin doesn’t quite make sense. But it hits so hard, it’s impossible to look away, like witnessing something holy. Or at least pure.

The smile dwindles as the toddler notices me watching. A ringlet of orange hair slips down her temple as she tilts her head, and for a moment, I stand perfectly still. My lips curve upward as I give a little wave.

Her face contorts. Pink covers the expanse of her milky skin. And she lets out a cry so sharp it draws all the eyes in the room.

“Luna,” my father calls lightly. “You’ve come to join us.”

A dozen little girls turn at once. The girl with the wide eyes retreats into her shoulders and looks away.

I shake my head. “No, I… I can wait.”

With a friendly smile on his face, Father turns back to the girls and rubs his palms together. “Who's excited to hear what happened to Hansel and Gretal?”

Eleven hands shoot up. Only Persephone’s sister doesn’t bother.

“Good.” Father claps and stands. “When I get back, I want to hear your theories. For now, my darling daughter needs to speak with me.”

He crosses the room with an unhurried ease, every movement gentle and deliberate. It’s so performative, I question if he isn’t still stuck in his own storybook.

When Father reaches me, he places a hand on my shoulder and steers me gently but unmistakably out of the room. “Come, love,” he says, just loud enough for his audience to hear. “Let’s find something for you to eat. You look sickly.”