Anathema (Causal Enchantment #1)(22)

“Come on, let’s build you a fire. You’re shivering.” She grabbed my hand and began leading me through the darkness.

“How can you see anything?” I asked incredulously.

“I have great eyesight,” she answered simply. “Stay right there.”

“Where am I gonna go?” I mumbled, wrapping my arms around my chest.

I heard a harsh scraping sound, like stone striking metal, then a flame suddenly appeared. I watched as it floated through the darkness, sparking other flames as it moved until dozens of little fires lit the space around me.

The torchlight revealed we were in another cave, this one much larger than the one last night—its ceiling invisible from where I stood. It was empty except for a few cast iron park benches arranged around a circle of stones. A perfectly–formed teepee of wood, dried grass, and miscellaneous shreddings was piled within. A firepit. A new one, given the lack of ash. On the other side of the cave, three tunnel openings led into oblivion.

“You’ll be safe here for the time being,” Amelie offered, walking up to me with a torch in her hand, as I surveyed the place.

“Cozy.” I hugged myself tightly.

“Right. A fire.” Amelie strolled over to hold her torch to the teepee. In seconds a roaring fire was blazing. “You’ll need to come closer to feel the heat,” she said, giggling cheerily.

I walked over to sit on one of the benches. A worn piece of metal lay where the wooden slats of a normal park bench seat had rotted away. I awkwardly sat down, trying to avoid the sharp corners on the metal, afraid of tearing my dress or cutting myself.

Amelie slid in easily beside me, seemingly unconcerned about injury. “I love your dress.” She reached out and lightly touched the silky material with her fingertips.

“Thanks. I was wearing this tonight when I fell asleep,” I responded. And then it hit me and I began laughing.

“Why is that funny?” Amelie asked, confused.

“Because I’m worried about tearing my dress on this bench!”

She frowned. “As you should be—it’s a pretty dress.”

“No, you don’t understand. I’m dreaming. This cave, this fire, you—it’s fake. I know that, and yet here I am, worried about my dress!”

“You think you’re dreaming,” Amelie said slowly.

“No. I know I’m dreaming. Last night I went to sleep, dreamed about you guys, then woke up in my bed—right after you threw that man’s headless body into the fire.” I shuddered.

“Last night … ?” Amelie repeated, looking perplexed. “Maybe you did wake up in your own bed but, here, you disappeared into thin air. And it wasn’t last night. You’ve been gone for over a month.” Her tone and her expression were so convincing that it was a struggle not to believe her.

A puff of wind cooled my shoulder. I turned to see Bishop and Fiona sitting on the next bench; the unexpected and freakishly quiet entry made me jump.

“Finally!” Bishop said by way of greeting, his charcoal eyes twinkling. “You took your time coming back.”

“Where are they?” Amelie asked them quietly.

Bishop shrugged, a serious look flickering over his face. “Hopefully Rachel will prove useful.”

All three turned to me now, dismissing their secret concern.

“So, how does it work?” Bishop asked eagerly.

I frowned.

“Evangeline was just telling me how she thinks this is all a dream and we are figments of her imagination,” Amelie said, her eyebrows raised.

Bishop roared with laughter. “You think you’re dreaming?”

Fiona cuffed him sharply upside the head, the slap echoing through the cave. It didn’t appear to hurt him in the least, though he looked unimpressed. “You’ll swear it’s a nightmare, soon enough,” he muttered, standing up and stalking out of the cave.

“Ignore him, he has an odd sense of humor,” Fiona apologized in that smoky voice, offering me a pleasant smile.

“So why are you dressed up?” Amelie said, chucking another log into the fire.

“I was about to ask,” Fiona murmured, adding, “It’s gorgeous!” Her long, slender fingers reached out and caressed the material, as Amelie had. “It’s been so long …”

I glanced at their frayed clothing but averted my gaze politely. They both laughed.

“We look homeless, don’t we?” Amelie said, holding the corners of her tattered shirt up with beautifully manicured nails. It didn’t make any sense. But of course—this is a dream!

“Isn’t Evangeline lovely?” Amelie suddenly asked someone behind me.

I turned my head to see Caden standing a few feet away, his piercing green eyes on me. My heart skipped a few beats. “Hi,” I managed to sputter, feeling heat creep up my neck to engulf my cheeks.

“You’re wearing slightly more than last time,” he observed, his mouth curving in a tiny smile. “What’s the occasion?”

I felt a second wave of embarrassment flare, remembering that obscene outfit. Now here I was, barely covered again. “My birthday.”

“Oh, I love birthdays! How old are you now?” Amelie asked gleefully.

“Eighteen.”

“To be eighteen again,” she sang dramatically, tilting her head back, her eyes closing as she reminisced.