Page 50 of Find My Way Down to You

I flash him a toothy grin that hides my growing need to shove him right into the black ocean.

Cary spins away from me. “This way.” He doesn’t wait to see if I’m behind him. I’m forced to jog to catch up.

“You know, for a guide, you could be a lot friendlier!” I huff.

“And for aguest, you could talk less.”

My jaw clicks shut. But not because of his comment. Because I’m too distracted watching him step into the inky waters, effortlessly lifting the bridge from their depths.

We walk in silence to the gates. Instead of opening them, Cary leads me to a winding path along the side. Stone steps melt into a smooth dirt path.

“Is this a secret passage?” I ask.

He sighs. “More questions? How very un-August of you.”

Despite myself, I snort. “Come on. Do you really expect me to be quiet the whole time?”

“One can only dream.”

When his eyes meet mine, a tiny flicker of gold snakes around his midnight irises. It disappears as we come to a large field of rich green grass. The blades list with the breeze. Tall flowers sprout from the ground. Instantly, I recognize their spiky white petals.

I lean down to sniff. Sweet like honeysuckle.

“Asphodel,” Cary says.

“Where are we?”

He looks out to the cypress trees in the far distance. His mouth loosens into a rare smile. “The Meadows.”

I turn to take it all in. Land unfurling infinitely. Beautiful plants I can’t name dotting the terrain. Sea salt and soil and that heady scent that follows thunderstorms thick in the air. To my left, I hear a noise, something moving in the grass.

No, not something.People.Walking and talking and even dancing under the pinkish-purple sky.

“Are they…?”

“Souls,” Cary tells me.

After a moment, some stop to stare at us. At me.

My pulse rattles. “Like the ones from the beach?”

The thought of them makes me slink closer to Cary. A muted laugh vibrates in his throat. “No,” he says, amused. “They are harmless. Ordinary.”

I wouldn’t call themordinary. These souls don’t have that filmy gray fog around them like the others did. Instead, they glow bluish like desert bluebells. And they look in no hurry to leave this place.

“How’d they get here?” I wonder aloud.

Hesitation shifts over Cary’s expression. He still doesn’t trust me. I let him study my face, openly, until his suspicion dims.

Eventually, he says, “My brother decides. Milos, the—”

“Final judge of souls,” I echo what Henri said. A lump forms in my throat. “So then, he decides where every soul in Aides goes?”

Cary gives me a quick nod.

I make a note to ask more about that later. My eyes are caught on the souls not far from us. I search through the faces, but it’s hard to get a clear look at everyone. There are so many. What if London is one of them?

When I try to get a better view, fingers wrap around my forearm. “Not too close,” Cary warns.