Page 68 of Claim the Light
After a while, I slip carefully off the couch, stretching out my cramped limbs before I bask in front of the fire.
The crackle and pop of the wood is calming. Until another sound breaks across it.
My ears prick at the soft, crunching noise coming from outside the cabin.
Footfalls?
Suddenly wary, I venture to the window, crouching low in case I’m visible from the outside.
When I poke my head up, all I see is the porch and the quiet forest. As before, the cabin’s lights don’t spill beyond the glass.
Nothing looks different.
The crunching footfalls sound again. This time, I identify them as coming from the space immediately in front of the cabin steps.
But there’s nothing there.
I glance back at Micah. I don’t want to wake him just because IthinkI hear something. Especially since it hasn’t disturbed him.
Remaining crouched, I venture to the door, turn the handle, and then peer through the gap outside.
Once again, the light doesn’t spill, and the forest looks just like it did before.
Fuck, now I feel silly.
What’s more, the crunching sound stopped as soon as I opened the door. Instead, the noises of the forest filter through. The swishing of leaves and branches, the rustling of tiny creatures in the far undergrowth. That’s what I must have heard. The sound must have been distorted through the cabin’s walls and windows.
Still, my training is kicking in. We assessed the perimeter when we flew in, but it can’t hurt to double-check it now to make sure we’re safe.
I don’t want to leave Micah on his own for long, but it will only take me a minute to check our immediate surroundings.
Taking a deep breath, I step outside, close the door behind me, and cross the porch, swiftly descending the steps, intending to head around to my left.
The moment my foot leaves the final step, my stomach lurches, as if I’m falling from a great height.
I land heavily on the ground right in front of me, my knees buckling under the unexpected sensation of plummeting—despite the porch step remaining right behind me and the distance being mere inches above the ground.
What the fuck?
I look up to discover that, once again, my environment has changed in a heartbeat.
CHAPTERTWENTY-FIVE
Aneat garden stretches out in front of me.
It’s filled with sculpted flower bushes no higher than my waist, all set out in patterns. Between them is a myriad of smooth, white pathways. Above me, the sky twinkles with a million stars, the light crisper than any I’ve ever seen.
Only the cabin has remained the same. It’s a brightly lit shape behind me—andnow, its lights are spilling through the windows.
Everything else has changed.
Directly in front of me, a girl with pure, white hair bends to a silver flower growing on a blood-red bush. She’s wearing a pearly dress that moves around her as if she’s standing in a gentle breeze. Except that I can’t feel it. For me, the air is completely still.
Glimmering light twinkles around her silhouette and makes her appear as if she were moving very quickly. Like a hummingbird, whose wings beat so fast, they look as if they’re standing still.
I’ve frozen with surprise, on edge and ready to fight if I have to, but then she speaks.
“You are not dead.” Her voice hums like the sound of a fingertip running around the top of a wineglass. “And yet here you are. In my garden.”
