CHAPTER ONE
Present day
North Carolina
Mist snaked over the hills and vales of the Blue Ridge Mountains settling on the Village of Anderson Creek and surrounding woods like a shroud. Emily stumbled through ever-thickening fog, trying to avoid the slap of tree branches obscured by vaporous wisps, fear pressing against a constricted chest. How had she lost the boys?
Malcolm was too bold for a seven-year-old, and the year younger Tevin followed his adopted brother into every unfortunate escapade. She’d only turned away for a moment to check her smart phone for a signal—a nonexistent signal—and the boys jumped upon the opportunity to bolt through the woods, brandishing wooden swords more than likely against the beast they claimed to track—an orange dragon.
“Life or death!”
The Clan MacLachlan battle cry spat in the distance from the children’s lips hung heavy on the humid air.
Emily raced in the direction she believed the bellow came from and tripped over a root, losing balance. “Dammit tohell.” She slipped on decaying leaves and banged an elbow on the trunk of a tree; the jolt of shock lit up her nervous system. “Ouch, ouch, ouch!” She danced around and shook out her tingling arm, then taking a moment to regain composure, leaned her forehead against the rough bark of the old oak and inhaled a deep calming breath. “Please let me find the boys.”
Jillian and Stephen MacEwen would never forgive her if anything happened to their sons while she babysat them. The sharp snap of a twig sent her off in an altogether different direction. How had the walk from the inn to the MacEwen’s log cabin become such a nightmare? Normally, Emily knew the way through the woods to and from the MacLachlan and MacEwen homes,Foxglovesgarden center, and theWhispering Pines Inn, but the fog made everything appear different—menacing.
Stopping to catch her breath, she scanned the immediate surroundings. Unable to discern a path, she chewed on a chapped lip. To where had the boys run?
“Malcolm! Tev! Where are you?” she called into the fog.
Tevin’s little-boy shriek jammed her heart into her throat. She sprinted in the direction of the frightening screech, ignoring the sting of branches grazing her face as she darted past haunting tree after tree.
She slid to a stop at the base of the forbidden mound just beyond the garden gate ofFoxglove’sdisplay garden. Like with the eye of a storm, no mist encroached upon the knoll. Malcolm stood at the far edge, to the side of the mound, feet apart, wooden sword held forward in two firm hands, tip pointed toward Tevin, whose feet were planted on the hilltop in a wide stance, sword held in a similar manner althoughhishands trembled. Emily had been warned numerous times by Iain MacLachlan, chief of the local branch of Clan MacLachlan and her boss at the inn, to never, ever, not under any circumstance, step foot onto the mound. And certainly she wasn’t to permit any of the MacLachlan or MacEwen children in her care to go there. She’d never understood why.Never asked why. Had thought the warning silly.
Dread stole her breath and she inhaled sharply. “Tevin, come here.”
“I don’t want to go away and fight the dragon alone,” he groused.
“It’s okay, Tev,” she said. His profile seemed like a black and white photograph in the fog with his damp hair curled against a pale face. The precocious boy had wheedled a special place in her heart, and was a favorite among the children, although she tried not to show too much favoritism. “You don’t have to fight dragons. Come with me. We’ll cut through the garden to Laurie and Patrick’s house. I bet your cousins have hot chocolate.”
Tevin didn’t move, didn’t say anything, didn’t look at her. He kept a level stare on his brother.
“Malcolm, tell him to come to me.”
“No. He’s on a quest to kill a dragon.”
“Oh, for pity sake. Enough of this.” She’d just drag him off. Patience gone, Emily stepped toward the mound and encountered some sort of barrier. She pressed a finger into it and released.Snap. The obstruction seemed to be made of clear…plastic wrap? She moved to the right and then to the left, but the barrier remained. She couldn’t get through it, as if the mound was encased in a clear plastic bubble. None of this made sense.
How did Tevin get through if she couldn’t?
She glanced over a shoulder. Across the garden, lights brightened the windows of the MacLachlan family’s house on one end, and the garden center’s gift shop at the other, but neither building was close enough that anyone inside would hear a call for help. She glanced at her phone. Halleluiah! She had a signal. Without removing her gaze from Tevin, she rang the house phone. The phone rang and rang. No answer.
Hu…hu-hooooo. The eerie call of a barred owl grated on already raw nerves.
“Please, Tev, please come here,” she said. He ignored her. There must be a way to get him through the barrier.
Perhaps his mother was still at the garden center even though it should have closed an hour ago. Emily rang the number for the gift shop. “Oh, thank God. Jillian, I’m with the boys in the woods near the mound. We got lost. The fog is so thick. I lost the boys. Then I found them. I can’t get Tevin to come to me. He’s on the mound just beyond the garden gate. Some sort of…oh, I don’t know…barrier is keeping me from going to him. I don’t know what to do.”Dammit. I’m rambling.
The, “Oh, shit,” coming from the phone’s tinny speaker confirmed her fears, and ratcheted up the angst curdling in her stomach.
“Tev, your mom’s on the phone. Come talk to her. Pah-lease.”
He touched her with his gaze, shook his head, blue eyes solemn, damp blond curls stuck to cherub cheeks.
Suddenly, tiny sparkling lights flashed about, darting to and fro, settling high in the branches of the one tree on the mound—a beautiful sight. Tevin looked up. His eyes widened in amazement. And…and the little boy vanished.
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