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I duck my head low, stretch my arms before me, and sprint toward it. My palms slamming into the stone, impacting for a moment—only to break through the rock as the surface softens and fades. The wall crumbling to a finely milled dust that swirls at my feet, as the ground just beneath me gives way. Sending me falling, spiraling, tumbling down a long, steep tunnel that plunges straight into the core of the earth. My arms flailing, body somersaulting head over feet—unable to stop or slow down, unable to gain control of myself.

But unlike the last time, I don’t try to stop it. I just trust that I’ll somehow end up in the mouth of the Lowerworld.

The tunnel ends without warning—spitting me straight into a bright shaft of light where I land in a heap. Only to find Raven sitting on a nearby rock, purple eyes flashing, waiting for me.

I rise to my feet. Wipe my hands across the seat of my jeans. Keeping a careful eye on Raven as I approach him and say, “I need help. Paloma’s sick and I don’t know what to do. Will you guide me?”

My words halted by the sight of him preparing for flight. His wings lifting, spreading wide, as he thrusts himself forward, lifts from his perch, and executes a perfect wide circle over my head, before he soars with the wind, and I set off behind him. Grateful for the way he stops on occasion, allowing me a chance to catch up, before he takes flight again—leading me all the way to the beautiful clearing I know from my dreams, as well as the time I drank Paloma’s tea.

I glance all around, taking in the tall swaying trees, the way each blade of grass seems to dance at my feet. Not quite sure how to feel about his leading me here—but definitely leaning toward uneasy at best, when Raven swoops toward me, lands on my shoulder, and thrusts his beak forward, urging me to keep going, to move all the way through to the other side of the forest where I come across the same hot spring I saw in my dreams.

And just like in my dream, Dace is here too.

forty-three

I stand before him, keeping quiet and still. Hoping to observe without notice, prolong the moment before he senses my presence.

His hair is wet, slicked away from his forehead—the light filtering through the trees in a way that slings a series of shadows over his face. And when Raven lifts from my shoulder, glides to a nearby branch where he looks down upon us, the beat of his wings causes Dace to look up, not the least bit surprised to find me wandering through a mystical dimension that remains hidden to everyone else.

“From the moment I saw you, I knew you were different.” His head tilts in a way that darkens his face, as my hands curl to fists, my body braces for just about anything. The last time we were here, it didn’t end well. And there’s no way to prove this isn’t a setup—that I won’t be forced to relive the nightmare again.

“Yeah?” My voice is curt, edgier than planned. “And why’s that—what gave me away?” I focus hard on his eyes, seeing thousands of images of me glimmering back—a long, rigid line of a girl with dark flowing hair.

He shrugs, shoulders rising and falling as though he’s truly perplexed. “Guess my instincts are good. Some things you just know without question,” he says.

“Was it instincts that brought you here?” I move toward him, the toes of my boots edging up to the spring. “Or did you see it in a dream?” My pulse thrumming triple time the second the words leave my lips. But I have to know, and there’s no way to ask coyly, no other way to phrase such a thing.

Was he really there too—or was it all just a product of my wildest imaginings?

“Waking life—dreaming life—who’s to say where reality lies?” He grins, a glorious flash of sparkling eyes and white teeth, before he goes on to add, “This place is like a dream, but I’m pretty sure we’re awake.” He fingers his arm, gives himself a quick pinch. “Yep, I’m awake—you?”

My eyes roam the length of him—drinking in strong shoulders, a smooth bare chest, stopping where the water dips low at his hips. So distracted by the sight, I nearly miss it when he says, “But to answer your question, it was my mom who introduced me to this place when I was a kid, and it’s been a favorite of

mine ever since.”

I swallow hard, noticing how gracefully he avoided my question, but I decide to let it pass, there’s no reason to push it.

“So, you coming in?” He motions toward the bubbling space just beside him, as I look to Raven for guidance. Only to watch him flit from the tree to the back of a beautiful, black horse I hadn’t noticed ’til now. He’s brought me where he wants me—it’s up to me to see it through.

“I’m not really dressed for it.” I sweep a hand over my jeans, point toward my boots. Not exactly the clothes I wore in the dream, and I’m hoping that’s a good omen.

Dace lifts his shoulders, causing tiny droplets of water to sluice down his sides. “You’re gonna let that stop you?” He looks at me, slicks a hand through his hair, as I gnaw the inside of my cheek, unsure what to do. His voice warm and coaxing when he says, “C’mon, water’s great. Besides, I promise not to peek.”

He makes a show of turning away and placing his hands over his face, as I stand before him—weighing my options.

Should I do what Raven wants and join Dace in the hot spring, which could turn out as badly as the dream?

Or should I ignore them both and be on my way—even though I’m not really sure where that is?

Remembering what Paloma told me about Raven having more wisdom than me, that it may not always make sense but I have to learn to trust him—I slip off my jacket and shoes, shimmy out of my jeans, then yank my tank top well past my thighs and wade in. Unaware I’d been holding my breath until I reach the far side where Dace waits—taking my place beside him like I did in the dream.

He lowers his hands, revealing a face so kind and disarming, I’m tempted to believe this couldn’t end badly. But knowing better than to believe what I see, I take a moment to grab a large, sharp rock from behind me. Folding my fingers tightly around it as I settle it onto my lap. If his brother shows, he won’t stand a chance. I’m more than ready to bash in his ugly demon head at first glance.

“The first time my mom brought me here, she said a lack of money was no excuse not to travel to enchanted places.” His gaze wanders to a long-ago past. “But she didn’t take me very often, she liked to save it for special occasions. Didn’t want me to grow bored of it—though I can’t imagine such a thing.”

“Do you come here a lot now?” I ask, observing the exact moment he returns to the present.

“Whenever I can.” His voice going soft and wistful when he adds, “But between work and school, it’s hard to find time.”

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