Page 33 of Her Dreadful Will
Until, at last, it snapped.
14
People weren’t supposed to be in Hatter’s Fall Park after dusk.
Soleil approached the gate nervously, her VW coughing and rumbling louder than usual. Typically the flimsy gates would be pulled together and locked shut at this hour, but tonight they were partly open, leaving just enough room for a car to ease through. The tires growled over gravel as she parked and shut off the lights.
A few other cars were present, tucked in the lot’s corners or pulled off onto the grass under the heavy shadow of the trees. She didn’t see Achan’s Honda though. Maybe she had beaten him here.
She glanced at her phone. Nine forty-five. Just enough time to hike Pigeon Trail to the halfway point—which, if memory served, was right after the Rabbit Hole, a dank crack through the center of the rocky hill. The crack fascinated her, because it looked as if a giant had partially cleft the hill with a titanic knife, and then decided not to finish the job.
Using her phone as a flashlight, Soleil crossed the parking lot. The crunch of her boots on the gravel faded to scuffing thuds as she moved onto the packed dirt of Pigeon Trail. At least it wasn’t Caterpillar Curve. That hike was tough and rocky enough in the daytime, skimming close to the river. It would have been twice as difficult at night.
She was deep into the darkness already, the trees clasping shadowy hands overhead, shutting out the faint light of the stars. Despite the bug spray she had applied, mosquitoes whined near her ears, desperate for a sip of sweet blood. The screeching of crickets and frogs filled the forest, punctuated by the occasional trill of a night bird.
She touched her rings—the illusion-casting ouroboros with lapis lazuli eyes, the soul-stealing bird skull, the old bronze ring etched with sigils for protection and strength. She wore her usual bog oak ring with labradorite to boost her connection with nature. A stainless-steel band with raw citrine and opalized fluorite enhanced the dregs of magical energy she had left. A ring of copper wires with a globule of selenite amplified her perceptive powers.
Each ring murmured with magic, and would sing or scream for her if its latent power was awakened. Suppose Achan had lured her out here for some horrible purpose. So what if she couldn’t tweak his will? She had other ways of defending herself. He would regret the day—or the night—that he chose to mess with her.
She walked faster, angling her phone’s light downward to draw less attention from the fluttering insects of the forest. The path was well-kept and fairly clear, with only a few twigs and roots to navigate, so she only stumbled twice before reaching the Rabbit Hole.
A tumble of rocky steps led up to the crack in the hill, which cut straight through to a trail and more forest beyond. Soleil paused, eyeing the inky blackness inside.
A sharp rustle from the surrounding forest startled her, and she leaped up the rocks, plunging into the cleft of the hill. A skittish mistake, because her foot skated through something slimy, and she lost her balance. She crashed headlong, elbows striking rock.
She sprang up the next second, cursing, needles of pain shooting up both arms. No serious damage, and her jacket had saved her from scrapes. But she’d bitten her tongue in the fall, and coppery blood slicked the inside of her mouth, filming her teeth.
Swearing again, she crept through the Rabbit Hole, the walls of black rock pressing against either shoulder. A lurid thread of star-flecked sky glimmered high above. All else was lightless and unyielding. In the cold, naked center of the night, this crack felt less like an adventure and more like a portal to some savage Otherworld, where monsters uncurled from trees, where magic was potent and universal.
Soleil stumbled along, thanking her lucky stars that her phone hadn’t been damaged when she fell. The extra-durable phone case had been well worth the investment; it had even withstood an encounter with Carebear’s jaws.
Pausing with one hand pressed to the damp stone, she looked up to check her progress. Ahead, the two walls of black rock converged until they broke, split by a crack of gray moonlight. And in that crack stood a man, tall and thin as a spindly scarecrow, his arms braced against the walls of the passage. His outline formed a cross, barring the way.
Every muscle in Soleil’s body tensed.
She could whirl and flee back down the crack, along the trail, to the parking lot and the safety of her car.
Or she could keep walking, toward whatever Achan had to show her. Because the silhouette at the end of the Rabbit Hole was him—she knew it, bone-deep and undeniable, though she couldn’t see his features at all. His outline was as familiar to her as if she’d seen it a thousand times. As if her soul had already memorized the shape of him.
This gathering, in the middle of nowhere—it was nothing but a party for magic-sensitive people. Completely harmless. Nothing would have to change. Best case scenario—she might make a few friends. Worst case—well, she could always mind-flex them all and go home.
No big deal.
“Soleil.”
Her half-whispered name slithered through the rocky crevice, an icy lure ensnaring her thoughts. The figure at the end of the Rabbit Hole shifted, extending his hand.
She paused.
What if itwasa big deal? This moment, this man, could throw all her hard work into irretrievable chaos.
She didn’t want complications. Complications wouldn’t help her become a Highwitch, and she desperately wanted to be one.
But what if she wanted something else too? Something nameless and wicked and beautiful?
Soleil lifted her chin, squared her shoulders, and moved forward. Her fingers passed lightly over the stone as she walked, faster and faster, walls rushing past, sweeping aside in a black blur until she reached out and touched—
Touchedhim.
