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But then she remembered the other nights, not having much time. Before forgetting where she was, that this was a dream of sorts, she halted her movements, holding River by the arms. “What is this place? What are the symbols on the walls? Why are you frozen when I come down here? Why are you a shadow during the day? Why did you hang yourself, River?”
“Mmm.” His lips tilted up at the edges. “All good questions. Ones you may not like the answers to.”
“Stop it!” she shouted. “I know what you’re doing, and I don’t like it. Stop toying with me. If you think this is going to prevent me from coming back here, it isn’t.”
“Is that what you think I’m doing?” River arched a brow, a grin spreading across his face.
Sadie scowled, peering around the room. “What’s behind these doors? Can you tell me that?”
“Now that I will do, my sweet nightmare.” He licked his lower lip, then motioned with a finger for her to follow him.
He opened one of the doors, and she stilled as she gazed inside. A strong metal smell filled the air. Blood, so much blood.
Crimson drops splashed to the floor, while others rose from the small puddles to something Sadie would’ve only imagined in the stories she wrote. Hearts, sewn together in a ruby web across the entire ceiling, gleamed in the candlelight. The organs lived, beating like drums, blood spilling from them.
“What is this?” Her voice wavered as she stepped away from the door.
River turned to her, his fingers twitching, a nervous habit of his. He slowly backed her against a wall, his knuckles grazing her cheek as he leaned in close, his hot breath tickling her skin while he murmured in her ear, “I can’t decide if I want to kiss you or kill you, and that’s why you need to stay away from me. Now run and don’t return, my sweet nightmare.”
Sadie shoved him away—anger coursing through her. “Why would you say that?”
“Run.” His neutral expression turned to one of fear. “Now.”
River’s fingers twitched again, his nostrils flaring while bending to pick up the dagger from the floor. He seemed to war with himself about something as his hand folded around the blade. Even though Sadie wanted to fight it, she chose to listen as his pleading eyes turned hollow, an emotion she’d never seen in him. So, clenching her teeth, she hurled herself up the steps and hated herself for it.
As soon as she hit fresh air, she halted—the trees had woven together, locking her inside its circle barrier as thick fog seeped in, preventing her from leaving.
Chapter Thirteen
“I wouldn’t ever want another. Only you.”
Heavy footsteps pounded against the steps, and Sadie slammed her shoulder against the seam between two trees to break through, but of course it didn’t budge. Dark stitching lined the seam as if something had sewn the trunks together.
The lanterns and fire flickered out just as she leapt to a gnarled branch, the trees whispering. Though Sadie climbed, grasping branch after branch in the moonlight, she remained along the tree’s first limb, as if some magical force held her in place. River growled, his deep voice echoing beneath the ground, drawing closer. But the fog was too thick to see through.
The soft brush of wings kissed her skin, and when she looked down at herself, white moths coated her entirely, blending her with the fog. Through a small gap between the trees, the goat-skulled creature pressed a skeletal finger over its mouth, shaking its head and hushing her. Protecting her?
Sadie listened, keeping her breaths even, but there was nowhere to go. Just as a hand wrapped around her waist, she jolted. Her eyelids flicked open to blinding bright sunshine pouring in around her. It took a moment for her to adjust to the light, the rays bursting through the trees—trees that were no longer woven together. No fog. No white moths cloaking her.
She crawled forward to where the opening should be, no longer a pathway leading to an underground paradise … or hell. At this point, she wasn’t certain. The dances with River … the room with anatomical hearts bleeding blood like rain, how red droplets rose to refill them. River confessing how he didn’t know if he wanted to kiss or kill her, then telling her to run. Which she had after he’d picked up the dagger, though there seemed to be a struggle within him. Something or someone was doing this to him. And she wouldn’t run again, even if she had to grab the dagger first.
“If you can hear me, River,” she shouted, her chest heaving. “Here I am. And I promise I will keep coming back. I will always come back. No matter what you do or say, whether I’m awake, or even if it’s only in my dreams at midnight. Something’s going on with you, and I will always help you, just as you would for me.”
Shadows along the ground swarmed around her, forming a circle as if they didn’t want her to leave. But even if she stayed or took a bottle of pills to fall asleep, she somehow knew she needed to wait for midnight to arrive. Besides, pills might not take her to the place she wanted to go.
As Sadie trudged back to the cabin, the silhouettes followed her, never once breaking their circle. Sleeping rabbits and birds sparsely covered the ground, more than usual. If it were the same as before, they would wake when night cast down its darkness.
Sadie slumped on the porch steps, pressing her face to her hands, thinking about River, his struggle, him wanting to hurt her. Over the years, when she’d come to the woods, there hadn’t ever been a sign of anything supernatural. In the past, she’d stayed in the woods at night on several occasions, camping with River, and there was no paranormal activity then. Yet when she moved in, this had all begun. Her moving in couldn’t be the trigger, could it? She hadn’t been to the woods in three months and … she covered her mouth. The answer was so simple. When she first returned here, she’d spread River’s ashes. And then the first night she stayed in the cabin, the music came to her at midnight.
It was the ashes—they somehow triggered something when she’d set them free, opening a gateway to what felt like another world, yet still in these same woods. Sadie’s mind reeled, focusing on all the films she’d watched over the years—the ones where the protagonist was imagining everything.
Skyler had seen the dowsing rod move in her hand, but not the shadow… Her mind wasn’t inventing these things. She wasn’t imagining this.
As she went inside, she took out her phone and called Skyler.
“Hey, I was just about to call you,” he said. “You had your one-word message replies yesterday, which, with you, means something is going on.”
She did do that when she was trying to concentrate on something or in a mood. “I know what triggered this entire thing. It’s because I spread River’s ashes here in the woods, and—”
