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Grant looked in the opposite direction, as if they could see anything. “You think we could find one of those information kiosks, like at malls? What we need is a big ‘you are here’ star.”
I frowned, something nagging at me that I’d ignored as I’d dealt with my fear for the men. Now, with them safe, I could focus on it.
It was a pull, as if a waterfall pulled all the streams in that direction. I pointed toward where it came from. “She’s that way.”
“How can you tell?” Kase asked.
“I canfeelit, like something wrong that’s drawing everything that way.”
The walk was different from how hell had been, and not just because there were no weird trees, no brimstone scent or things trying to kill us at each step.
Those were all true, but what really hit me was howquietit was. Hell hadn’t felt empty. No matter how open an area had been, it had had edges, movement and life—or, well, afterlife…
In purgatory, there was nothing. It felt like walking on a treadmill covered in mist, so no matter how far we went, nothing changed, nothing appeared, nothinghappened.
Even with that, I kept panic at bay because I knew damn well that weweregetting closer. Some deep part of me had a connection with this place and sensed it. It was the same thing that told me no matter how I fought it, this place was home to at least something inside me.
“I thought there werethingshere,” I said when the silence became too heavy. “I’ve seen this place in my dreams, and there were creatures in the mist.”
Hunter had his hands in his pockets, a sure sign he didn’t plan on getting attacked. “There aren’t monsters here, at least not the kind you’re thinking of.”
“So what did I see?”
“Memories.”
I stopped, forcing him to pause and turn so he could look at me. “What do you mean, memories?”
“What we went through to get here happened in the abyss because we’re still alive. Normally, that’s what the trapped spirits go through here.”
“What are the monsters, then?”
“They’re part of the spirits loop, of what keeps them here.”
“Can the spirits ever escape it?”
“Not really,” Hunter said, voice slowing as if he knew I wouldn’t like the answer but refused to hide it from me. “People get stuck because they can’t move past something on their own, and because they’re trapped alone, they never have what they need to get there. The longer they spend there, the more of them drifts away. Before long, they’re just echoes driven by whatever trapped them. Spirits have gotten trapped here from the start, and I’ve never heard of one getting out.”
That idea plagued me. Sure, I’d known when dealing with spirits that purgatory wasn’t exactly the place anyone wanted to end up, but I hadn’t realized it was so…permanent. The idea of them getting stuck here and never being able to move forward, never managing to get past whatever plagued them, forced me to recall each spirit I’d written off as unimportant.
A moment of regret hit me. Maybe Ishould have signed myself up for that ghost concierge position I’d joked about before. Maybe I should have worked harder—or at all—at helping them come to terms with their past?
“Where are they?” I asked. At his look, I clarified. “If they’re here, where are they? Why haven’t we seen any?”
“Because the mist hides them. Clear it away, and you’ll see.”
I was ready to roll my eyes until his expression said he wasn’t kidding.
Right. Control the mist.It sounded so easy when he said it, as if it were something anyone could do.
“It’s like riding a bike,” Hunter added.
“I didn’t have parents, remember? No one taught me to ride a bike,” I snapped.
“Well, you ride me well enough—pretty sure you can figure it out.”
I didn’t glare at him. What was the point? He never learned his lesson about inappropriate humor.
Instead, I closed my eyes and shifted my hands around, trying to mimic what I’d seen Grant do so many times. I mean, he understood how to do this sort of magic stuff, so just doing what he did should make it work, right?
