crooked and half falling down. She tapped her on the back and she jumped, laughing as she spun around to see Haddie standing there. “You okay, baby? You didn’t hear what I said, did you?”
“Yes, Mommy.”
“Oh. Well. Don’t repeat those words, okay?”
“I won’t. Can I play outside?”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea. It rained earlier. The grass is all wet . . .”
“I’ll wear my rain boots.”
Her mommy looked at her for a minute before sighing. “Okay, but promise me you’ll stay in the yard, only to the edge of the woods, okay?”
Haddie nodded, her fingers crossed behind her back. She hated to lie to her mommy, but this was important.
“Okay.” She glanced at the piece of falling-down wallpaper. “I’ll probably leave this to Mason’s crew before I waste any more of this expensive wallpaper. I think I should stick to baking.” She smiled. “I’ll be in the kitchen working on the computer and I’ll leave my headphones off and the window open. If you stay out back, I’ll hear you if you need me, all right?”
“Yes, Mommy.”
Ten minutes later, wearing her green dress with the tiny white flowers, and a pair of yellow rain boots, Haddie exited Lilith House through the back door. The air felt steamy from the rain, a soft mist rising from the ground, growing thicker at the edge of the woods, curling toward her like reaching hands. Haddie glanced at the open kitchen window, checking to make sure her mommy wasn’t looking as she ducked into the cover of trees, allowing the cool, misty fingers to swirl around her limbs.
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.