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Idon’t know what’s happening to me anymore.

The fact that I can walk unaided already blew my whisky-soaked mind, but now it’s as though I can look through the trees and see the whole world. Instinctively, I know where to turn, in which direction to travel. It’s like I’ve given up my body and someone else is controlling it.

I slide down the grassy ravine that caught me out once before, but my ankle is as solid as oak.

Maybe I’ve become part tree.

With an atmosphere like tonight, I wouldn’t be surprised.

Even when I gaze up at the towering trees, I’m able to pick out the outlines of sleeping birds. Crows, jays, ravens, rooks. They’re all there, as black as night. Maybe they’re not sleeping. Maybe they’re watching me, their beady eyes stalking my every move.

I slink deeper into the forest.

Sure, I’ve been down here dozens of times, but never at night.

And never while drunk, either.

But my legs carry me in the direction where I know the loch lies.

There’s the scamper of tiny paws, and I wonder if it’s a wandering squirrel.

Twigs snap and crack, and there’s the harsh flap of wings followed by a shrieking caw, but I’m not scared. I’m not scared anymore. I don’t feel like myself — I feel stronger, enriched, strutting around the forest as though I’m wearing armor.

But I’m not wearing armor. I’m wearing a lamb costume.

Maybe that should have been my first warning.

Maybe I’m on too much of a high after my healed leg to not pay attention.

To not care about this ritual.

Because itisa ritual. I’ve realized that now. It isn’t just ceremonial bullshit, the way Danny had insisted.

Something’s happening here.

The air is thick with energy.

With magic.

I don’t like it, but I’m fascinated by it. I feel different within myself. But I’m so focused onmyselfthat the forest begins to slip away like background noise.

I’m not afraid of the dark.

I take step after step into the forest, the slow feeling of waking up creeping all over me.

I stop.

Pause.

Gaze up.

Shadows are surrounding me. Shadows in the trees.

I stare, blinking my eyes in rapid succession.

There are shadowsonthe trees.

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