searching. But as always, there’s no sign of corruption, no sign of their presence.
Maybe the Bone Keeper found them?
I clasp the thought tightly, liking the feel of it. Not wanting to release it no matter how improbable. While I’ve no doubt the skull-faced, serpent-skirt-wearing, star-eating queen of the Lowerworld is more than capable of capturing them, if not obliterating them, I also know it won’t be that easy.
Having made this mess, it’s mine to fix.
“It still seems odd.” I press my lips to the nape of Dace’s neck, the words muffled by his long glossy sheet of dark hair. “You know, this perpetual cycle of night and day. It seems too normal, too ordinary for such an extraordinary place.”
I study the late-afternoon shadow that appears to be stalking us. An unlikely, elongated silhouette of a raven with a spindly stem of a neck, and two ridiculously tall people sitting astride a horse with legs so stretched and skinny they hardly look able to support us—the exaggerated shape heralding a night soon to fall.
Though the truth is, what qualifies as night in the Lowerworld isn’t much more than a trifling fade, falling far short of the heavy, black, star-dusted New Mexico sky I’ve grown used to. Though, I’m glad for its arrival all the same. Glad to have this day reaching its end.
I rest my chin on Dace’s shoulder, picking up where I left off. “Not to mention there’s no sign of a sun—so how’s it even possible? How can it rise and set when it doesn’t exist?”
Dace laughs in response, the sound throaty, deep, and so alluring I inch my body closer until it’s pressed hard against his. Determined to conform to every valley and curve of his back, wanting him to be as aware of me as I am of him.
“Oh, there’s a sun.” He cricks his neck until he’s looking at me. “Leftfoot’s seen it.” His icy-blue eyes capture mine, reflecting my long dark hair, bright green eyes, and pale skin until I look away, dizzy with the sight of it.
“And you believe him?” I frown, unable to keep the skepticism from creeping into my voice. Convinced it’s yet another of the old medicine man’s fantastical tales he told Dace as a kid.
“Of course.” Dace shrugs. “And if we’re lucky, maybe someday we’ll see it too.”
I rub my lips together and slip a hand under the hem of his sweater. My fingers are chilly, his flesh is warm, and yet he doesn’t so much as flinch. Rather he welcomes my touch by urging my palm flat against him.
“The only thing I want to see now is…” I try to push my mind back to the job we’ve set out to do, but it’s not long before the thought fades along with my words.
The lure of Dace is too strong, and he must sense my mood because the next thing I know, he’s turning Horse around. Nudging him back over the wide, grassy slope, heading toward a favored destination of ours.
I tighten my hold on his waist, tuck my knees into the crook of his. Struggling against the barrage of guilt that always overwhelms me after a long, fruitless hunt. I promised Paloma I’d find them—evict them. Swore I’d run those Richters right out of the Lowerworld before they had a chance to do any damage that would impact the Middle- and Upperworlds too.
I thought it would be easy.
Thought that in a wondrous land of lush foliage and loving spirit animals, those undead freaks would stand out in the very worst way.
Convinced that with Dace and me working in tandem, we’d easily defeat them.
But now I’m no longer sure.
“Not to worry,” Dace says, his voice as confident as his words. “Together we’ll find them.” Then, meeting my skeptical look, he adds, “Haven’t you heard? Love conquers all.”
Love.
My breath stills, my eyes widen, while any attempt at reply stalls in a throat gone suddenly dry.
He drags on Horse’s reins, stopping just shy of the Enchanted Spring, where he helps me to my feet and folds my hands in his. Misreading my silence, he says, “Too soon?”
I clear my throat, longing to tell him that it’s not at all too soon. That I knew it the first night he appeared in my dreams—felt it the day I ran into him at the Rabbit Hole—the stream of unconditional love that flowed between us.
Wishing I could just say it—confess how it both terrifies and excites me. How being loved, truly loved, by him