And then I’m feeling that tug deep inside me and we’re traveling, the room and Finn’s gorgeous face dissolving around me.
My feet land at the top of a cliff and a fierce wind buffets me backwards. It’s the same story as in the forest. I have no idea where we are, but I feel a pull on my hand as the soul silently requests that I let them go and as soon as we lose contact, they disappear in a cloud of glitter. Off to join their destiny, whatever that is.
I shake my head in disbelief at what I’m seeing, what I’mdoing. I’ve never felt so much like a true destiny weaver as I do right now. Even if I have no idea how I’m doing it.
I return back to the antechamber and Finn with a beaming smile on my face and he presses a kiss to the top of my head and smiles down at me with pride in his eyes.
“You did so good, little treasure.”
“Let’s do it again.”
So we do. I do.
Over and over again, soul after soul, finding their way into the afterlife, or intoanafterlife, I guess. I’m not sure where any of them end up.
“It could be a whole new world to start again. It could be the same place they just left,” the gate tells me. She seems to have a better idea of what’s going on than anyone else, considering that most of us that aren’t inanimate objects can’t travel beyond the little stone antechamber. I’m the only one that gets to see what lies beyond.
I feel better than I have in a long time, like I’m actually doing something useful, something productive. It means something.
… and then I remember the reason I’ve felt so unproductive recently. Wren. I’m not supposed to be here, doing this. I’m here to find Wren.
In all the tumultuous events of the day, I don’t remember until the evening, once I’m fully exhausted after delivering maybe fifteen souls to their afterlife, but I was in the middle of a phone call with Leif when Finn was attacked last night.
Too bad that checking my messages adds to our problems instead of taking them away.
17
Soren
“What do you mean, Cam’s missing?” I’m trying and failing to keep my temper in check as I round on Brogan in the center of the garden. “And what the fuck do you mean about Echo delivering souls, which you oh so casually slipped into the conversation, like I would not pick up on it?”
Brogan now has the cheek to roll his eyes at me, like I’m unreasonable for blowing up at him. But it feels like I have zero control right now and that is not something I can handle.
“Cam’s not in her room, or anywhere in the garden. Echo and I went to talk to her a few days ago and figured that she was doing weird hours and was sleeping, but then Echo had a message from Leif and he’s not heard from her either. Echo’s trying to call him back right now but it keeps going to voicemail.”
“Days? She’s been missing fordays?”
Brogan clears his throat. “Could be up to five days.”
“Nearly a fucking week?”
Yep, I’ve well and truly lost control. Of my feelings, of the people around me, of the garden I’m supposed to be in charge of.
Fuck. I thought I had a handle on things. Despite the ever-growing pile of souls stuck in limbo downstairs and the increasing number of attacks on our gate. Two in a week is a record. It’s also unheard of for Finn to get as badly injured as he did. And now I’ve not only lost my fate weaver, but my karma weaver too? Yeah, this is a new low.
Fuck.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“We don’t know exactly how long she’s been gone,” Brogan says. “It could be less time than that. All I know is, she’s not in the garden now.”
“Is it because I don’t talk enough? Is that the problem? I should have gone on a course or something, got some real leadership training and not just assumed that I could do this.”
There’s a strong chance that I’m spiraling. The look that Brogan gives me confirms that much.
“Why else are they leaving then? Are they not happy here?” I’m aware I sound like a lost little boy right now, and it’s not a good thing.
Definitely spiraling.
