Page 34 of Fall into Place

“Are you ready?” Callum asked. “Let’s go visit a bloody statue.”

Chapter 8

Mapping the Isle to NYC

posted on reddit.com to forum r/BloodFeud by user GreeneParty

Okay guys, apologies for my photoshop skills, but I think this is a definitive map of the Isle??? I looked up every geographic description in the three Blood Feud books and cross-referenced them, everything doesn’t always match up a hundred percent, but here are the landmarks I’m totally sure about:

The forest—Central Park: Everything on the Isle is centered around the forest. That’s where the graveyard is, the milky jade pools where Isobel likes to bathe, the woodlands where a lot of the vampires hunt, etc. This obviously maps to Central Park, which is important because it provides a neutral buffer between the west side (Nantale’s territory) and the east side (Felix’s territory). Which brings us to:

Nantale’s compound—Columbus Circle: It says in the books that Nantale’s compound is at the southwestern corner of the forest, so in Manhattan, that would be Columbus Circle.

Felix’s castle—the Guggenheim Museum: Felix’s castle is on the eastern edge of the forest alongside “the great lake,” which I assume corresponds to the Central Park reservoir. Give or take a few blocks, that’s exactly where the Guggenheim is, at 88th St. and 5th Ave.

The crystal bridge—the Brooklyn Bridge: Another obvious one! This bridge is near the southern tip of the Isle.

The moonflower meadow—East River Park: The moonflower meadow is situated along the Isle’s southeastern coast, a couple of miles north of the crystal bridge. That’s exactly where East River Park is in Manhattan.

The northern wilds—Inwood: The books mention that the northern tip of the Isle is wild and mostly unpopulated, home to a lot of lakes and some notable plant life (like the black jewel-weed lilies Isobel uses as an antidote to her poison daggers). Makes total sense that this would map to the far northern end of Manhattan, which has similar geography.

Okay, I think that’s all the major landmarks—did I miss anything? Lmk in the comments and I’ll keep updating the map!!

Callum Yoo had only been awake for a few hours, but he already wished this day would fucking end. It was excruciating—inhumane, really—spending every second missing his sister, knowing it was entirely his fault she was gone.

Not gone, he reminded himself. Dead. No matter what this human said (or how she’d gotten that scent vial), Callum knew the truth: Octavia wasn’t living it up at some posh hotel in New York City. She was a sun-scorched pile of ash blown off the crystal bridge into the churning river below.

Callum glanced over at Tess, who appeared to be having the best day of her life as they took a mundane walk along the western edge of the forest. Erratic, wasn’t she? Played it all cool when he came to her room, but was practically shaking with fear after he left her alone for all of two minutes in the compound’s entry hall. Now she was gawking at every abandoned mansion they passed, her eyes bright, those annoyingly lush lips parted with wonder.

Callum didn’t know why Tess was here or who had sent her, but he had to admit, she didn’t seem like much of a threat. Dear god, why was she caressing the bark of a gnarled old tree?

“Birnam Wood,” she murmured.

“I think it’s an oak, love,” he corrected.

“That’s not what I mean—Birnam Wood is the forest from Macbeth, you know? ‘Macbeth shall never vanquished be until Great Birnam Wood to high Dunsinane Hill shall come against him’? It’s a real forest in Scotland. It’s famous for this massive tree, the Birnam oak. Supposedly Shakespeare was traveling with a band of players and saw it, which partly inspired the play. Anyway, this tree looks just like it.”

She was flushed with excitement—Callum hated how pale she was, how easily he could discern the blood moving beneath her skin.

“What are you looking at?” She eyed him with suspicion.

“Nothing,” he said lightly. “Just wondering if you worked in a Shakespeare-themed hotel. Give all the guests a little chamber pot, send the luggage to the wrong room to encourage cases of mistaken identity?”

“No.” Tess looked down and cleared her throat. “I used to study Shakespeare. I was a PhD student at Columbia.”

“Really?” Callum raised an eyebrow. “Have to admit, I never understood the fuss.”

“About Shakespeare?” Tess was incredulous. “Seriously?”

“ ‘Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?’ ” Callum quoted. “Absolute rubbish. What, sticky and full of mosquitoes?”

“That sonnet isn’t about summer, it’s about mortality,” Tess huffed. “But I suppose it’s no wonder a vampire wouldn’t understand that.”

“It’s self-important—he’s saying he gets to be the arbiter of her immortality. Not because of anything she said or did, but because he deigned to write about her beauty.”

Tess stopped short, peering at Callum. He was surprised at how much it unnerved him, the way she stared, the naked curiosity.

“What?” he prodded. “You disagree?”