“There’s something else you need to know.” He stood beside me now, shoulder to shoulder, like we were brothers-in-skin before a hunt. We were united from the many dream journeys we had taken together, a kinship that none of my clan would understand. “That woman, the dog’s owner—”
Just then Maddie appeared, walking through the fog. The breeze cleared a path for her, fingers of white cloud trailing in her wake, as if she were created to dwell in a surreal landscape. Or as if she had created this one herself.
“—She’s pretty famous, sort of a cross between Stephen King and Neil Gaiman—”
I followed her with my eyes, felt hunger burning in my gut, even stronger than before. It was an unusual sensation, something I hadn’t felt in years.
“—She just finished working on a TV series with Joss Whedon—”
Maddie walked toward the forest, surrounded by wheels and spirals and sparks. A whole universe of transparent glittering machinery followed behind her, as if she were building a new world when she moved. My heart skittered in my chest, my blood burned. I could barely concentrate on what Ross was saying.
“So, you better be on your toes during this hunt. I know things sometimes get a bit wild.”
“Life and limb,” I murmured, repeating the Darkling creed like a litany. “We know the rules: don’t harm a human—”
“Look, I remember what happened six years ago—”
I still couldn’t bring myself to turn away from her, noticed again how beautiful she was, in form and thought, a ragged hole where her heart should be. Strange how humans wore their wounds on the inside, how they tried so valiantly to hide them. I unconsciously covered the ever-present wound in my side with a hand, knowing that it would never go away. It would be an eternal testimony to what I had lost.
“—when they found Jim Hernandez out in the woods,” Ross continued, “half naked and mad.”
“Moon madness,” I said. “Someone accidentally harvested too long. He recovered a few days later.”
“All I can say is, nothing better happen to Madeline MacFaddin during this hunt or your sweet little mountain kingdom will come tumbling down around you. You’ll have the woods filled with humans, from Hollywood paparazzi to L.A.’s finest men in blue. All hunting for you.”
A breeze cleared the fog a bit more, swept away another patch of haze, revealing a small crowd of teenage boys that loitered in a cluster of trees by the side of the road. All dressed in black and blue jeans, they stared at the cottage, at Maddie.
“Damn. I didn’t expect word to get out this fast,” Ross said. “It was probably my receptionist. Two of those boys are hers.”
“Why are they here?”
“They’re her fans.”
Just then Maddie noticed the boys standing by the road. She jogged out to greet them, laughed and signed a few autographs, then posed for a few group photos taken with a cell phone one of the kids pulled out of a back pocket.
Then she waved good-bye and headed off, alone, toward the woods.
Toward the Ponderosa Trail.
Where just yesterday she had seen me in my true skin.
Chapter 27
The Safe and Narrow Path
Maddie:
A chill of mountain air, crisp and electric, flowed into my lungs. All around me, a battalion of nameless pines towered, trying to hide the sun between lacy branches. They swayed and murmured, threatened to swallow me as I stepped onto the path—so obvious yesterday, shrouded today as if dressed for the grave. I felt the promise of adventure, like a wilderness kiss, luring me closer.
All this was necessary. To know my character. To meet him face-to-face.
I hiked down toward the stream, surrounded by the primal fragrance of evergreen. Fog rolled between the trees, muffling all sound, covering my tracks, hiding any evidence that I had even been here.
I found myself wondering if reality sometimes folded, if it could change into something malleable and indefinable, like liquid metal waiting for the mold.
I knew there were things that lived in the dark, things that could never be fully understood. Things that wanted to lure you away from everything safe. Just like in the story of Hansel and Gretel, you could be surrounded by a dangerous wildwood, while a bear trap with rusty hinges waited for you to step off the safe and narrow path.
If I hadn’t dreamed about a creature in the woods; if I hadn’t married the wrong man; if I hadn’t believed that I had the power to change people’s lives with my words.
I shivered when I finally stopped and pulled out my iPhone to shoot some photos of the misty forest. Then I turned in a slow circle, video camera on, seeking any movement in the bushes. Nothing. It was all white transparent shadows and layers of pale green, shapes that hung solid, unmoving.
Could that creature in the woods have been a chupacabras?