I narrow my gaze, knowing better than to answer that question, or even to let on that I’m out here on my own. He’s mocking me. He’s not the least bit sincere. And though the mist does a really good job of obscuring his face, allowing me only a glimpse of the faintest outline of his dark wavy hair, it’s not like I need to actually see him to confirm it. The contempt in his voice rings loud and clear.

“If you ask me, we have two choices,” he says, as though we’re just two good friends pooling our wits, searching for a solution that’s mutually beneficial and pleasing. “We can either sit this thing out and wait for the fog to clear, or we can make our way back down and head out of here. I vote for making our way back down, how about you?”

A million retorts rush forth, but I clamp my lips shut before I say something I might live to regret. Even though his proximity is giving me the creeps, even though I’m tempted to pluck his fingers right off my sleeve—I can no longer do that. Not after all that I’ve learned. Now that I know we’re all one—all connected—the old reactions no longer work.

But that doesn’t mean I have to engage. I’ve no doubt his intentions aren’t good. I move to push past him, eager to put as much distance between us as I possibly can, careful to silence all thoughts of worry, paranoia, or fear that his mere presence has spawned.

For one thing, I don’t want him to overhear my thoughts, and for another, I need to clear my mind so I can reserve my focus for which direction the tree might lie in.

But my mind draws a blank.

Summerland has provided all that it will. What happens from here rests solely on me.

Rafe trudges behind, his stride falling uncomfortably close. But my need for caution precludes me from moving too fast, so I continue along, carefully placing one foot in front of the other, tentatively testing each step before allowing my full weight to fall upon it. Feeling my way along the path like a blind person navigating an unfamiliar room, knowing this may take much longer than necessary, but also knowing it’s better to go slow, better to stay safe, than to lose my footing and be eternally sorry.

I just hope I’m headed the right way.

“I still think we should turn back,” Rafe says, easily closing the distance between us as he stumbles behind me.

“Then turn back.” My eyes sweep the area, on high alert for signs of… well, anything, something. “Really. I was doing just fine on my own.”

“Wow.” Rafe huffs, puffs, makes a big show of letting me know just how offended he is, though his voice sounds far more amused than insulted. “You really know how to make a bloke feel welcome, don’tcha, Ever? You should be happy I’m here. But, then again, Roman did warn me about you.”

“Yeah, and just what exactly did Roman say?” I pause, turning to face him, straining to get a better look, but still nothing. The mist is far too thick for me to discern much of anything.

I focus back on the trail, wincing at the way Rafe’s bitter, chilled breath frosts the back of my head when he says, “Roman said plenty.

Seemed to have a pretty good handle on you. But I’m afraid I can’t really expound upon any of that. At the moment, it seems the details have escaped me. I blame the altitude, how ’bout you?”

I roll my eyes, aware that it’s wasted since he can’t see it, but still, it makes me feel better and at the moment I’ll take all the good feeling I can get.

“And speaking of Roman…” Rafe pauses dramatically, though it’s pretty obvious what’s to foll ow. “Whatever happened to him? Been a while since he and I last caught up. According to the rumor mill, you killed him. But then, I’ve never been one for secondhand information. Whenever possible, I like to go straight to the source. So, tell me, Ever, is it true? Did you do it? Because even though I don’t know you all that well, I have to say, it’s definitely got that grim ring of truth. You’ve got it in you, that’s for sure. I knew it the first time I saw you. No offense, of course.”

“None taken.” I scowl, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable with the fact that he’s behind me, but doing my best not to let on. “It’s true that Roman’s no longer with us,” I say, confirming what Rafe already knows, though careful to give no hint of the deep remorse I feel for that loss, nor any indication of who might be to blame. My voice growing bolder when I add, “Turns out he wasn’t so immortal after all.

But then, you already guessed that, didn’t you?”

The breeze quickens, sweeping past us, causing the air to chill to an uncomfortable degree. Becoming so cold my heart sinks, knowing I can’t possibly bear another winter again, especially not with Rafe here.

Unwilling to stop long enough to retrieve my jacket from my backpack, I rub my hands up and down my arms in an attempt to warm myself. My ears pricking with interest when a second gust rustles past. Only this time, in addition to the usual crackling of leaves and pattering of rocks tumbling over each other, it carries a whole other sound—one that’s either animal or human—I can’t be too sure. All I know is that Rafe and I are no longer the only ones here.

My hair lifts, swirling around me as I fight to gather the strands in my fist. Noticing the way the fog thinned just enough to allow for a glimpse of a distant snowcapped mountain, along with the very top branches of what must be a very tall tree (possibly the tree?), before thickening again and blotting everything out.

Determined to keep Rafe focused on me, hoping he didn’t see what I saw, I turn to him and say, “By the way, what exactly are you doing here? Surely this is no accident? So what is it you’re up to? Are you in cahoots with Misa and Marco? Or maybe even a friend of Lotus’s by chance? Or, are you seriously going to try to convince me that you’re just out for a day hike?”