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“What about it?”
“It’s as much of a weapon as that blade of yours. I feel like it cuts a bit of me away every time you use it.”
Juliana startled, stunned once more by the intensity of his words. She remembered her decision earlier to talk to him—toactuallytalk, before any of this went too far—but she couldn’t quite remember what she wanted to say, or even if she meant to stop him.
Hawthorn tilted his head. “Have I alarmed you?”
“No,” she said quickly, and then sighed. “Yes.” Her fingers tied themselves in knots as she struggled with the words. She felt she’d rather break them than speak, that that was likely to happen far before the words formed.
Hawthorn put a hand over hers, stilling them instantly. “Take as long as you need,” he told her. “But do not worry yourself on my account. If that’s a concern.”
“You are,” she said, barely breathing. “Youarea concern of mine. Not… not in a ‘you constantly irk me’ way, either… although you do do that. A lot. I mean… what I mean to say is that…spirits.” She yanked her hands back, curling her fingers into fists and hitting her head.
“My, my, Jules, you sound almost nervous…”
“Oh, shut up, I—”
Something rustled in the bushes behind her. Hawthorn stiffened, eyes widening. She turned her head, but she could make out nothing in the gloom.
“Can you see something?”
“Someone,” he said, “Human, I think. They’re heading towards the valley.”
Juliana stilled. Few would be so foolish, but maybe the person was injured and not thinking straight, or a human that had walked across the border and didn’t know any better.
“We should stop them,” Juliana announced. “If I wake myself up—”
“Too late,” Hawthorn announced. He climbed to his feet. “They’ve almost reached the entrance. I’ll go after them and I’ll see if I can block up the path with my powers, or spook them out enough that they turn back.”
Juliana nodded. “I’ll come with you.”
“Oh, I was so hoping you would say that. My powers have really grown some. It’s impressive. Dashing, even.”
Juliana groaned. “We won’t be affected by the valley ourselves, will we?” The last thing she needed was for her memories to start spouting out in front of him.
Hawthorn shrugged. “Seems doubtful, in this state, but we’ll see. Quickly, now, before we lose him.”
He held out his hand, fingers inching towards hers. He looked at her expectantly. “So we don’t get lost.”
Juliana doubted that was the only reason, but she didn’t complain. Partly because the trees were so thick and dark here that they looked like shards of shadow, and partly because she enjoyed the feel of his hand in hers.
He probably enjoyed it more, alone in the sensationless dream all day. Maybe that was why he clung so tightly.
She clung tightly back.
They moved up the embankment to the narrow gap in the rocks that served as the entrance to the valley. A sharp, sudden path rolled ahead, silver in the moonlight. Mist covered the valley floor. In the daytime, it was all trees and streams, glassy ponds and lush growth, but under the veil of night, every tree turned to shadow, the mist swamped the plantlife, and the valley held all the pleasant wonder of a graveyard.
A figure moved through the swirling fog, darting along the path.
“There,” said Hawthorn, following it.
Juliana allowed herself to be tugged forward, but the mist rose up, smothering the vestiges of light.
She heard a child laughing.
Not ominous at all.
A small girl stepped onto the path, two tiny light-brown plaits behind her rounded ears. A plump, jolly woman ran after her.
