Page 35 of The Shadow Sanctum

My eyes close for a moment. Only a moment. But Angel hears the hesitation, because it’s true—he knows me. As much as I’ve lied, as much as I’ve tinkered with his psyche over the years, I am myself with no one except him.

With Angel, I am me.

With Luna…

Don’t finish that thought.

I turn with what I hope is an olive branch in my expression but is probably more like resolve. “Every step we take only brings us further into the unknown… The clearing is point A. The compound is point B. If we put aside our bullshit for a minute, we can figure out the line between them and go from there… I promise, our pride can withstand being wrong.”

No response, but I can feel his reluctance. He decided a year ago I was his enemy, and Angel is not quick to change his mind.

“I want to get out of here alive, just like you.”

Angel looks down at his boot and nudges the snow as if he stepped on something foul. He looks at his watchless wrist, a habit he hasn’t shaken. He used to do that in meetings when he was considering someone’s offer. It usually meant he was going to take it.

He sighs, lowering his arm. “How do we figure out the line?”

Cold air nips my lungs as I fill them to the brim. My chin falls a centimeter when they empty.

Great question.

“Okay…” I nod as my mind churns. “First things first: let’s rule out the paths we shouldn’t take.”

“Up,” Angel offers like a smartass.

My lips twitch, but he still looks stone cold, so I don’t comment. “There’s a town south of the compound.” I try to picture the outskirts, any identifying detail in case we get too close. All I catalogued was the path from the rundown barn to the Shadow Sanctum. “We’ll have to be certain we don’t miss the compound, otherwise we’ll run right into it.”

Or far more likely, be blown up in the process.

I wave to my left in the general direction of where the four-wheelers left. “I don’t know how far back the road is, but it’s definitely off limits.”

“‘Kay. So we should veer right and down.”

Right and down. What is ‘right and down’?

We don’t even know what direction we’re facing.

My attention moves to the expanse of pine and hemlock surrounding us, their branches heavy with snow. Walking a little farther to my right, I dart my eyes around, breathing in the wintery scent, noting one hemlock after another. There’s not a maple in sight.

Twenty miles uphill, at least.

Angel wanders close as I circle a tree, studying the moss growing thick on one side. It stretches East, of course, but… That’s too general. It could differ by too many degrees. I turn my attention to the ground. The slope of the terrain rises, rocky underfoot, hinting at a higher elevation looming to the northeast. But this is Luna’s game, and she has taught me well to question my judgment.

I crouch and brush away snow to expose the soil beneath. Sifting through the dirt, I squint up at the cloud-streaked sky. The wind has picked up, whipping through the trees, and I can feel the change in the atmosphere. The humidity is thickening.

There’s a storm coming.

We won’t have the sun soon.

I grip a stick and run my thumb along the rough bark before walking to a rare plot of shiny snow free of the trees. I drive it into the dirt and trail my finger along the edge of its thin shadow, marking it in the snow.

Then, I start my count.

Angel makes an impatient sound behind me. “What are you doing?”

“Figuring out which way is north.”

“That way." Angel points up the hill. “Moss grows on the east side of a tree. You already saw that.”