Page 10 of Tell Them That I’m Coming

The air here is… different.

Katrin said they were fire demons, but Sombra is far warmer than this world. It’s cool, but not cold; not like Earth. The air is thick, like it’s been sitting still for centuries. Above me, the sky is caught in a perpetual twilight with a silver moon and a spattering of stars filtering through the interlaced branches over my head.

Trees surround me. Not the ash-dark giants of Sombra’s shadows, but silver-barked trunks twisted in unfamiliar shapes, their leaves narrow and dark, whispering softly to one another even though there’s no wind strong enough to justify the sound.

My heartrate kicks up. My shadows curl instinctively around my boots, seeking comfort. I do the same to Binx, burying my fingers through his fur.

“Alright,” I murmur, forcing calm into my voice. “New world, new rules.”

Binx shifts on my shoulder, his small body taut, ears twitching as he listens to things I can’t hear yet. His tail flicks once, twice, uneasy, but not panicked. Not yet.

That’s good.

If Binx isn’t panicking, I won’t either.

I take a careful step forward, looking around and, thankfully, seeing no one.

The cushioned ground gives beneath my boot with a faint, wet sound. Somewhere to my left, something scuttles away, quick and low to the ground. Farther off, a branch creaks. My quickened breath matches the sound.

The woods are not quiet. Oh, no. They’re listening.

I swallow and move again, slower this time, every sense stretched thin. The farther I go, the more aware I become of how alone I am. No portals humming at my back. No easy escape tugging at my spine.

Rafe.

The thought of him being trapped in this spooky realm steadies me.

“I’ll find you,” I whisper, not caring who hears. “I promise.”

A soft flutter draws my attention upward.

Tattered orange-and-black wings drift between the branches ahead, the same butterfly from before moving with lazy certainty, as if it knows exactly where it’s going. And maybe it does because, as I watch it, it winks out of sight.

“Figures,” I mutter.

I move closer, hoping it’s just a trick of the dim light. The way I see it, the butterfly brought me here. If I’m lucky, it’ll bring me to Rafe.

The woods seem to close in as I walk, trees growing closer together, the air dimming further until the light feels filtered through smoke. My shadows trail behind me, thinner than I like, clinging instead of flowing.

That’s when I hear it.

A footstep.

Not heavy. Not clumsy.

Close.

I pause.

Binx freezes, claws pricking lightly through the fabric of my dress as he lowers himself, making his ungez body smaller than usual.

The sound doesn’t come again.

I turn slowly, scanning the trees, every muscle coiled tight. “Hello?” I call, keeping my tone even. Unafraid. I’m full of it, of course, but whoever’s out there has no clue.

Right?

I strain my ears, but nothing happens. No one answers.