This was too much. Another case of moving forward only to be pushed back. Was nothing in my past what I thought it was? I tried to remain calm. To remind myself that I had a list back at the house, that I still had a plan, and that Ray being back in town did not change my plan.
He was still watching me. I had to leave. To gather the strength to stand up and go back to the Magnolia so I could recover without being seen.
The leaves of the Mighty Oak bristled. There was no wind, but a cold blast of air coated me. It caused ripples in the water, vibrations that seemed to affect the flecks of silver. As I watched, they gathered in the center, forming an arrow pointing north. Away from the entrance to Illusion Square. Toward the small path in the forest that led God knows where.
I was on my feet again. Each step was a thousand tiny hammers to my body. I ignored it, crossing Illusion Square in the direction of the arrow. I didn’t know where I was going, but when magical specks of dust point you somewhere, you go.
That’s just sound logic.
Before I knew it, Illusion Square faded into the distance, and I was on a path to nowhere in the narrow but dense forest at its border.
CHAPTER 25
Okay, so not a path to nowhere. The forest was maybe half a mile deep, leading to a narrow footbridge that crossed sparkling bayou water to a raised island.
An island I knew. The moment I was on the other side of the bridge, magic engulfed me. It wasn’t tangible, or even visible, it was just the sensation ofother. And it was as familiar as putting on my favorite pajamas.
“I remember you, Bridge Island. I remember every inch of you.”
An island cannot vibrate with joy, like a small dog that pees when you come home at the end of a long day. But it may as well have, because saying those words out loud brought every single memory of this island back to me.
To my right was a lovely cottage-style house. It was the house where the goddess Iris lived. The woman I’d seen at Gino’s Pizzeria when I had dinner with Lauren. We’d been friendly in high school. She had embraced her magic before she was a teenager, shedding her old self to become who she was meant. I could picture her before as clearly as her after.
Continuing forward, I reached the center of this small but bustling island where Bridge House stood proud. It clearly had a glow-up in the past thirty years. I’d always thought it majestic, but the way the house stood court now put its past power to shame. Just like Iris, someone had figured out how to help the house become itsgreatest form.
I had to guess it was the woman with the long, chestnut brown hair rocking on its patio. She had an air about her, as if she and the house were one. In a moment of absolute longing, I imagined how that must feel. I wanted that with the Magnolia.
Crowded next to her on the swing was the mischievous older woman I’d seen talking to the Mighty Oak. I returned their friendly wave, their names dancing in the swarm of new memories before coming forward. Ruth was the older woman, former proprietor of Bridge House. Misty was the new owner.
Misty was a mermaid. She and Dimitri, the troll of North Bridge, protected the island. How did I know that?
“The island is welcoming you home, Simone.” Iris launched down the stairs and pulled me into a warm embrace. Hair darker than night weaved coils around a perfectly made-up face. Thick, reddened lips planted a kiss on my cheek. Rainbows trailed the ground around her. “I’m so thrilled you’re back. One more piece to the Treater’s Way puzzle falling into place.”
She held me at arm’s length, her fierce golden eyes meeting mine.
“Complete your tour of the island, hon. Then come back to Bridge House and we’ll all have dinner and get reacquainted, yeah?”
I couldn’t speak. I only nodded, the hint of a smile teasing my lips. Only moments earlier, my body and soul were aching and world-weary. Now, a vibrant new energy infused me. With a last squeeze of her hand, I continued my journey.
Bridge Island wasn’t large. You could explore the whole of it in a day without bumping into the same person twice. It earned its name because of the two bridges at opposite ends of the island. South Bridge was the footbridge I’d crossed into Illusion Square.
North Bridge was this one-lane, rickety as hell, terrifying traffic bridge that led to New Orleans. No one in their right mind would drive on that piece of?—
Whoa. I stopped short near the foot of North Bridge. When I left thirty years ago, it was a death trap. Now…
North Bridge had also gone through a glow-up. A literal one. The thing glowed like a gilded runway to the mundane world beyond. Without moving further, I knew there was a ramshackle cabin at the base of the bridge. And a troll lived there.
I didn’t want to interact with a troll at the moment. Nor did I needto. My instincts guided me to the left, through more forest. In the distance, the soft twangs of a guitar drifted through the trees. There was an old caretaker’s house on the outskirts of the island, and I smiled at the wave of nostalgia that only familiar music can foster.
But I knew where I was going at this point, and as more of the island made itself known to me, I couldn’t wait to get there.
I cleared the forest and found what I’d been looking for. Exactly as I remembered it.
It wasn’t much to look at. A simple park bench on the west side of the island, with dark green slats and brass fittings bolted to a small base of concrete. I rounded the bench, sat, and exhaled.
The bench itself was simple. But it had one hell of a view.
My back was to Bridge House. I’d have to peer over my shoulder and crane my neck to glimpse North Bridge. In front of me was a short embankment leading down to the bayou. And ahead of me was miles and miles of water.
