At our pace, it took only a few minutes to reach it. A slight sweat dampened my skin. I wiped my forehead as I slowed.
The forest was alive.
Birds flitted overhead in the massive trees, chirping and calling to each other. Loud. Beautiful. It was unlike anything I’d ever seen in Hell.
Luke stopped beside me, his gaze locked on the canopy above.
“You hesitated when I told you what waited for us in these trees. But a bird chirps in our face, and suddenly you’re sprinting like your life depends on it?”
I grinned. “The bird’s cuter than you. Obviously, I’d follow it.”
“It’s a skeleton,” he shouted.
“No, some have flesh.”
I pointed to a pair flying above us, their cracked, glowing skin gleaming between the leaves.
Luke muttered as he stepped ahead, “I’m not supposed to be cute. I’m the Dark One.”
I smirked as I followed, gaze on his back. He was actuallyverycute when he grumbled.
“It’s here.”
I hated hearing those words leave his lips, knowing we werethatmuch closer to the end.
“Where at?” I asked quietly.
“Come here. Stand in front of me.”
I did as he asked, moving until he was at my back.
“See how the trees split in the distance until there’s just one large one?”
I squinted, frowning. “It’s the tree?”
“Maybe. Or maybe, it’ll open in front of it. But it’s there.”
Why couldn’t I feel it yet?
I thought maybe Reapers would have some kind of internal knowing—something deep in our bones when the crossover came. But maybe that sense was gone with our mortality. And with Melinda gone…how would my family evenfindthis place?
That familiar dread wrapped around my ribs, squeezing.
I was yanked from the spiral when something squawked right in my face. I jolted back just as a bird—fleshless, glowing—flapped near. Luke swatted at it, claws slashing the air, but the bird dodged him easily and stayed close, hovering.
“Hmm.” I held out my hand. The bird landed gently on my index finger. “Maybe they’re not showing us anything. Maybe they’re just…curious.”
“Irritating is what they are,” Luke muttered, slicing the air again as a second bird flew toward us. This one dodged and flitted upward before both hovered just out of his reach, watching him with tilted heads.
“Luke.”
“I’m not harming anything,” he muttered, “just showing them why they should keep a polite distance.”
About a quarter mile into the trees, a glowing green watering hole shimmered like a beacon against the backdrop of crimson leaves. The birds still hovered close, ignoring Luke’s swats and grumbles the entire way.
I bent on one knee and dipped my hand into the water. Cool, smooth, and clear. “Is it safe to get in?”
“Yes.”
