Year Two: Rebels - Cara Wylde Page 0,66

were impossibly tall, not to mention the strange symbols that were carved into them.

“I will not move from this place,” I said to myself.

My anxiety must have been at fault because I felt like I couldn’t breathe properly. Like there wasn’t enough oxygen. I also felt like the trees had started to close in on me, which was ridiculous. Trees didn’t move. This wasn’t the Lord of the Rings.

“El?”

I waited for a minute or so, but she didn’t answer. I listened carefully, hoping I’d hear her steps. Nothing. The wind started blowing harder. It seemed to bring sounds and noises from afar on its invisible wings. I thought I heard whispers. I turned on my heels, studying every inch of the forest around me. I couldn’t see very far, since darkness had fallen completely. My eyes had adjusted, though, and it helped that when I dream traveled, all my senses were enhanced. There they were… whispers, again. Someone moaned in the distance, and a chill ran up my spine when I realized it was a moan of pain and distress.

“Please,” they whispered. There were many voices, some sounding young, others old. Men, women, maybe children. “Please.”

I swallowed hard. I took a step in the direction I thought they were coming from, and sure enough, they became louder and clearer.

“Please, I can’t bear this anymore,” a feminine voice pleaded.

“Make it stop,” a man said.

Someone was crying.

I couldn’t stay away. Not when people were suffering, not when they were in pain and I was the only one who could hear them. Maybe I could help them. I made my way between the trees, careful not to trip, hugging the flowers to my chest for dear life. No matter what happened, no matter what I was going to discover, I would not lose them. As I walked, it seemed like the trees were parting before me. I thought it was strange, but then again… I couldn’t see very well, so maybe it was all in my head.

“Help us.”

“Release us.”

“I want to die. Please let me die.”

I was shaking, and not because I was cold. The whispers had turned into loud, clear voices, and the moans and cries rose to the sky and echoed through the forest. I should have turned back. El had specifically told me to ignore anything I might see or hear, but this was impossible to ignore. I couldn’t leave and abandon people who needed my help. I picked up the pace, wanting to get this over with. I couldn’t hear anything but the voices. My head was filled with them. If El had called my name now, I wouldn’t have heard her. There was no going back. I’d already made my decision, and those people who were calling to me knew that. They could sense I was close, because I could swear they were addressing me directly all of a sudden.

“Come closer,” they said. “Closer. Let us see your face, dreamer.”

I stepped into an open clearing. There was light here – green, neon light that came from a mighty three in the middle. I hid my face behind the oversized bouquet of Akkadia Aeterna.

“Dreamer.”

“Dreamer, come closer.”

“Dreamer, run!”

Something clicked in my head when I heard that harsh, deeply masculine voice tell me to run. Blinking fast, trying to adjust to the powerful, fake light, I walked toward the tree, trying to understand where the voices were coming from. And I saw them… Dozens upon dozens of people stuck inside the tree, their limbs like branches, their legs one with the thick trunk, leaves growing out of their torsos. My mouth dropped in awe and terror. They were all crying, pleading, moaning. They were all in excruciating pain. And they were all… human. Or so they seemed. I hadn’t expected to find other humans or hybrids where I knew only the Great Old Ones existed.

“Dreamer, you shouldn’t be here,” the man from earlier said. “Go!”

“Who are you?” I stepped even closer, trying to identify him in the sea of wriggling bodies.

“My name is Gilgamesh, and you have to trust me when I tell you that you need to leave now.”

My eyes widened. I spotted him up in the tree, a few feet above my head. He had long, dark hair that fell in knots and matted strands over his chest. His face was dirty, and his clothes were one with the bark and the leaves. The way his body was angled… I shuddered. He looked like he was crucified.

“Gilgamesh. I thought