“It’s not like that,” I tell her, aware that defending myself to a cat is not helping my case. “It was the chimera, which happens to be my old cat, telepathically speaking to me.”
Yeah, it sounds even worse when I say it out loud.
But before Natalie, before the coven, before I knew witches existed, there was Lucy. And despite everything that happened afterward, I can’t shake the feeling that I was meant to find her.
I pull on the gauntlet and zip up my backpack, which I’ve loaded with supplies I usually bring hiking: flashlight, water bottle, pepper spray, snacks, tiny First Aid kit, emergency blanket if I get lost.
Ethel wanders over to her scratching post and gets to work on her nails, as if to tell me she doesn’t care what I do.
My phone chirps, and I lunge for it.
Hazel
Staying at Oaklyn’s tonight. Will call you tomorrow when I’m in the office. Don’t text me again in case she sees.
My stomach clenches. After learning the truth about Oaklyn, she’s still going to…?
Ugh, I can’t think about that. Hazel’s a grown-ass woman who can make her own decisions.
Anyway, I’m just glad she’s in one piece.
I slip on my running shoes and shoulder my backpack, my heart pounding. I don’t know how deep into the forest I’ll have to walk—Lighthouse Park is a hiking area, after all—but I’m prepared for anything.
“I have to do this,” I tell Ethel as she watches me lay a hand on the doorknob. “I might be the first person who can communicate with chimeras. Either that, or…”
I don’t want to think about what else could be putting a voice in my head. But every day, I get closer to having to spend the next five years in a dungeon, and I’m desperate enough to follow that voice if it might lead to a way out.
As the bus pulls away behind me, I click on my flashlight, illuminating the Lighthouse Park sign I saw in the vision. The beam cuts a weak path through the blackness, revealing a paved road leading into the park.
Ugh, what if this is a trap? Could the Madsens be behind it? How angry will Natalie be when she finds out what I’m doing?
I push down my doubts and start walking, the cold night air seeping through my hoodie. My footsteps are too loud, and the feeling of being watched makes me quicken my pace, my flashlight beam bouncing wildly.
At the end of the road, a yellow gate indicates the park is closed after dusk. I duck under it, following a dirt path bounded by enormous Douglas firs and red cedars that must be hundreds of years old. A sign warns me about bears, but I suspect ordinary bears are the least of my worries tonight.
The deeper I go, the thicker the air grows with the scent of damp earth and ocean salt. Branches creak, their shadows twisting in my flashlight beam like grasping hands.
Then, my skin prickles, and the hairs on my arms stand up. That familiar sensation pulls me forward like a magnet. I take the left fork in the trail, then the right, the feeling intensifying until it’s humming through my body. Hisses fill my mind like a jumble of whispers.
“A human comes our way…”
A twig snaps behind me, and I whirl around—but there’s only darkness between the massive tree trunks.
The magic tugs harder, leading me down a steep trail toward the crash of waves. My foot slips on wet rocks, and I catch myself with my hands, wincing at the sting in my palms.
Natalie is going to kill me if I survive this.
Something huge passes overhead, momentarily blocking out what little moonlight filters through the canopy. My heart leaps as I recognize the shape—wings, eagle head, lion body.
Lucy. I found her.
I’m not sure whether to feel relieved or scared.
She circles back, staying overhead like a vulture stalking dying prey. Ignoring every survival instinct, I follow her, stumbling over roots and ducking under branches until the trees thin out.
I arrive at a cove, where jagged rocks form a natural amphitheater and frothy waves crash against the shore. I’m on time—the waxing crescent moon hangs low on the horizon, its light painting a silver path across the water.
And on the shore…
