Page 52 of Find My Way Down to You

I stare intently at the fields of gold. Elysium. I wonder ifthatis where London is, warm, happy, and safe. “Can we go?”

“No,” Cary says flatly.

My eyes widen, mouth open. He shakes his head. “I cannot take you there.”

“Why not?” The question comes out strongly, aggressively.

Cary’s eyebrows droop into that familiar scowl. “It is sacred. Forbidden for anyone other than the Deathless or the souls granted passage.”

Anger crests in my chest. London could be just on the other side of that river, but Cary refuses to take me. For a second, I consider ignoring him. I can see a path to the other meadow. I could leave him and his ridiculous laws behind.

The rules of Aides aren’tmyrules.

One look in his inky eyes freezes me. A request instead of a demand treads the perimeter of his irises:

Do not make me do this.

I hate everything about this place. All the barriers and rules that keep me from London. I hate how much I need Cary’s help to get to him. But it’s the one thing that simmers the fight in me. I force out a smile.

Quietly, I say, “Okay.”

The wind ruffles Cary’s hair. Loose curls fall around his temples, framing him in that boyish look again. I imagine him much younger. Coming to the Meadows to sit in the grass and pluck asphodel petals, staring up at the sky. Wondering what’s next.

Was he ever that way? Curious and hopeful? Or has he always been an impassive ferrier?

“How old are you?” I ask him.

A knot forms between his eyebrows. “Come again?”

“You talk like you belong in a movie where everyone wears top hats and travels by horseback and no one’s ever heard of the internet.”

He glowers.

I laugh so loud, more souls turn to watch.

“Time works differently here. Much slower,” he explains through his teeth. “My existence has no true mortal equivalent.”

“So, what—seventy thousand–ish?”

A flush colors the tops of his cheekbones. It fades quicker than it came. “Once we accept our role, we become ageless,” he grits out.

My head cocks. “Accept your…role?”

“Enough questions.”

His glare crackles with fire. I don’t know why that excites me. Like maybe he’s capable of an emotion other than boredom. Or annoyance. At least it’s an improvement.

My mind stumbles back to my first time here. Wrestling with Cary on the beach. His hands pinning my wrists to the sand.

Him on top of me…

Before my thoughts have a chance to continue, Cary grunts, “We are leaving.”

He stomps back the way we came.

“Wait for me!”

I start to chase after him, sparing one more glance over my shoulder. To Elysium. Longing churns restlessly in my stomach. It’s like a hunger I can’t ignore. A persistent ache.