Two girls. Two secrets.
Only one can survive.
Years before Nelle Wychthorn plans her escape, Tabitha Catt may unearth something in a Horned God's lair that is the key to freedom.
Desperate to save her beloved aunt from a dark curse, Tabitha is out t...
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Though the night was biting cold, my body was toasty-warm from the long hike through the forest. Fireflies flitted in the darkness along with a swarming cloud of Pix. I swatted at the tiny otherworldly creatures, driving them away with my free hand. A few were stuck in the tangles of my ponytail and I tugged them loose before tossing them into the undergrowth. They let out a shrill squeak as they bounced off fern fronds, only to take to their wings and rejoin their swarm. Apart from their misshapen humanoid faces and the vicious stinger that glowed with a purplish light in the darkness, Pix were much like the Sawyer Beetle with textured black wings and long antennae. They liked the taste of animal blood and the luxury of squirrel hide to fluff their nests, tucked inside the hollowed trunks of decaying trees.
Behind me, my aunt cried out in startlement.
Fear clawed at my chest. I spun around. Unable to react in time and reach her, I could only watch as her arms flailed and feet kicked out beneath her from slipping on a patch of slick damp leaves. She fell with an oomph onto the forest floor.
I quickly hurried over. The crunching sound of skeletal leaves, small twigs, and shed bark underfoot was too loud in the sinister forest. "Are you okay?"
She winced and gingerly rolled a wrist. "I'm fine. Just clumsy," she said, giving me a self-deprecating smile.
I helped her to her feet and she swiped away the dirt and leaves sticking to her tracksuit pants. Straightening, she suddenly clutched my arm tightly. Glancing furtively around the Hemmlok Forest, she seemed to shrink into herself as bewilderment stained her features. "What are we doing out here?"
A horrid sinking feeling fell through me.
My aunt lapsed into confusion and became disoriented when the gloaming descended into the night. I adjusted the canvas strap of my heavy rucksack, painfully digging into my shoulders. This time it carried all the usual things I needed to ease my watch during the night, as well as a telescope and camera. I'd already taken a few pictures as the sun began its descent before we'd slunk into the forest, and I'd take a few more later on when the moon climbed to its apex. Amongst other excuses I used to explain our nighttime adventures, our colleagues believed my aunt and I were amateur astronomers and we liked to detail the moon every month
"There's a place I want to show you," I told Aunt Ellena. Not quite a lie, but it still didn't feel good saying it.
My aunt relaxed, trusting me implicitly. "Oh, well, lead the way."
My torchlight wove ahead of us and guided the way. Mist rose from the damp ground and was buffeted by our movement as we strode quietly through the forest, wading through the undergrowth and around crooked trees. A restless wind scattered dead leaves and dried pine needles, and my breath wisped from my mouth in a cloudy stream.
Everything within the pitch-black canvas of the forest sounded impossibly loud and too close by. And the way the forest eerily murmured to itself and hummed with life, it felt and sounded like a living entity, breathing and watching us with dark intent.
