Despite the hazy ground, she spotted the acorns immediately. She’d seen them when they got out of the car and started walking toward the door, and she’d been thinking about those acorns since then. They’d been left for her, she knew they had been. The horned creature had used her idea and left a trail for Haddie to follow.
Haddie stepped tentatively over the pine needles on the ground, following the acorns farther into the woods. At first, they were spaced close together, and then farther apart. Eventually, they tapered off completely and confused and slightly frightened, Haddie turned in a full circle, wondering what she should do.
The mist had risen off the ground and now it whispered through the trees, creating a world that felt both dreamy and strange. Straight ahead, a pair of horns appeared, their outline parting the fog and then being swallowed up once again as the creature moved forward. Haddie gasped, her feet primed to turn and run. But no, she’d come here for answers and she had to be brave.
The horns appeared and then faded into the mist, emerging again seconds later, even easier to follow than a trail of acorns. Haddie gathered all her courage, moving forward, following the creature that had no weight.
Haddie moved through trees, first so thick she had to weave between their massive trunks, and then spaced farther apart. She got caught up on brush, her legs and arms scraped and poked. She followed the thing up, her legs growing weary, and then down, her rainboot-clad feet slipping in the dirt, though she caught herself before she fell.
She followed for a long time, her muscles growing weary, the sky beginning to grow dim, the creature waiting for her, but keeping just far enough ahead that Haddie could never see it clearly.
Where are you leading me?
Follow.
A shiver of excitement raced through Haddie. She’d heard it. Not in words, but in intentions. She’d heard it.
The first glints of starlight appeared, the sky overhead colored in a hundred different shades of blue.
Her mommy was going to be very worried.
Haddie was worried too. But she’d come this far, and she couldn’t turn back now.
The creature wanted to show her something.
It was . . . saying something . . . and she could almost hear like she had before, but not quite.
Through the mist, Haddie spotted a small hut-like house between two tall trees. She stopped, peering at it, wondering if that was what she was meant to see. But no, the creature had passed right by the dwelling and moved somewhere beyond. Haddie took in the weight of the structure, measuring it. It felt light. A peaceful place, though she also felt its emptiness. Someone had lived there once, but not anymore.
Haddie continued on.
The ground grew rockier, large boulders replacing the trees. The creature had disappeared, replaced by the soft pounding of drums from . . . somewhere. Haddie couldn’t tell where the sound came from because it echoed off the rocks and the walls of the canyon ahead, bouncing all around so it was everywhere at once. She could see the edge of the cliff that fell into it stretching around in a giant circle. Though there was no fog out in this wide space, the canyon was so deep, Haddie couldn’t see the bottom from where she stood.
The moon was big here, big and yellow and round. High in the sky, bats circled, their inky wings outlined in moonglow. A bunny hopped out from behind a rock, spotting Haddie and going still, its little nose twitching. He and Haddie measured each other, then satisfied, both turned away, focusing back on their own business.
Haddie eyed the cliff again, lost in uncertainty. What was she supposed to do from here? She glanced down, and that’s when she saw the red-hued rocks, each about the size of her fist. They had been formed in a trail, just like the acorns. Just like her Skittles. Haddie took a step forward, then another, moving to the final reddish stone directly on the edge of the cliff.
Haddie picked it up, holding it in her hand, feeling the very slight warmth in her palm. Warily, she leaned forward, peeking over the edge of the cliff.
Down.
Startled, she looked around, searching for the one who’d said that word. Demanding.
Again, she peeked over the edge. It was very, very far down. Did the thing want to hurt her? Kill her? Her breath came short and she stumbled back, her feet slipping in the gravel and coming out from under her, pitching her forward. With a cry of fear, she threw her body sideways, landing on her stomach, the air knocked out of her lungs.
For several minutes she lay there, gripping the ground and sucking in lungfuls of dusty air. When she’d finally managed to calm herself, she began to push back from the edge, the rocky ground scraping her bare legs.
Something caught her eye on a ledge below. A reddish rock. Haddie stilled, glancing around at the windless night. She scooted herself forward just enough to hang her head over the edge, her hand finding a prickly plant and wrapping around its strong root.
She eyed the reddish rock on the small ledge below, her gaze moving to a similar one on a wider ledge beneath, plants and brush growing near the wall of the cliff.
Haddie’s bones squeezed tight, growing leaden in her body. She cried out softly, her head falling limply over the edge of the cliff, her eyes glued to that second ledge. This place was like that room on the second floor of Lilith House. It had weight. She didn’t know if the weight was bad or sad, it wasn’t like that with places. Places weren’t clear like people. Places held their weight different.
Haddie caught her breath, lifting her head, willing the feel of the weight to leave her bones, but remain in her mind. She’d been practicing that lately, and sometimes it worked. Mostly, it didn’t, but Haddie didn’t want the weight of badness to make it so she couldn’t move.
That scared her, and she didn’t want to be scared. She wanted to be brave.
She peered below the weighty ledge. There were no more rocks beneath.
Haddie paused, lifting her head higher and peering around again. The distant sound of a drumbeat started up again. She couldn’t tell if it was moving closer or farther away.
Haddie looked down again. She knew what she had to do. She knew she had been led here for a reason. Haddie came up on her knees, gathering every ounce of courage in her small, skinny, seven-year-old body. And then Haddie turned around, lowering herself backward over the cliff.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Georgia sat on the couch, legs drawn up, arms linked around them, a scowl on her face that Camden knew hid her hurt. He sat down next to her. “Georgie,” he implored. “Look at me.”
She turned away. “You shouldn’t have told her,” she said. “I can’t believe you told her.”
Mason cleared his throat from where he sat on the easy chair across from the sofa. “He had to, Georgia,” Mason said.
She whipped her head toward him. “Now you’re on her side too?”
He let out a breath. “There don’t always have to be sides,” he said. “What was Camden supposed to do? Deny what she’d already discovered?” He glanced at Camden. “He has feelings for her. He trusted her. And she wants to help.”
“Help, my ass!” Georgia said. “What can she do to help?”
“She can give us complete access to the house,” Camden said. “The property.”
“We could have had complete access to that property ourselves if you’d have let us do whatever it took to get rid of her.”