Saige had always thought the Hauteville Woods were beautiful… because scary could be beautiful, and that was what she found so tragic about it. The woods lured people in with a false sense of harmony, of earthy scents and pure air, while roots and branches waited to snare, hang, and entangle victims like a spider’s web. At least, that was the way the woods had always felt to her. She didn’t think there was any part of this island she could trust anymore.
Jasper shoved his hands underneath his armpits as he walked beside her, his heavy breath expelling from his mouth in white clouds. Whenever he saw her looking at him, all he seemed to manage was a weak smile. They slogged through the woods in silence, too exhausted, cold, and damp to talk. Fog crept up the tree trunks. Freezing precipitation rained down. Saige feared if the temperature dropped any farther, which she was positive it would by nightfall, they’d be in very real danger of walking in snow.
The manor isn’t far. I just need to find the bridge.
She made sure to keep the flooded creek within earshot, but walking beside it was a risk she was unwilling to take. “The bridge can’t be far.”
Jasper only nodded.
She walked faster, even though her legs felt as stable as cooked spaghetti.
There’s a path somewhere that leads to the bridge. It’s here somewhere. It has to be.
Panic sweat started to drench her forehead.
It has to be… right?
She wondered if the woods were similar to the manor, stretching its dimensions to keep them trapped inside.
Jasper’s arm shot out over her shoulder, pointing through the trees. “It’s there.”
They tackled their way through the foliage. The violent, dangerous churn of water met them suddenly.
Saige faltered in her step.
No!
The gorge had always held shallow water, the stone footbridge a dreamy picture of a sublime English garden. But now both ends of the bridge were underwater, the arch seeming to point out like a lost island. The flooded creek moved so fast that Saige could no longer differentiate between the water and white foam. It reminded her of a spa bath, if a spa bath could ever go wild.
Jasper’s brows pulled together. “Well, that’s it. We’re stuck.”
“We’re not stuck.” Saige carefully stepped into the mud, spreading her arms to maintain her balance.
“What are you doing?” Jasper’s voice sounded strained behind her. “We can’t cross.”
“What’s the alternative? The temperature is dropping, and the storm is getting worse. Out here, we’ll die of exposure. We’ll freeze to death.”
She didn’t wait for him to respond, because she knew there was no alternative.
She stepped onto the bridge, the current stronger than she’d anticipated but not strong enough that it knocked her over. Still, she was happy it wasn’t any deeper. The raging surface lapped around her knees, splashing ice-cold water up her legs. Her boots felt heavier, her feet and toes numb as she waded through the water. Relief spurred inside her when she climbed onto the bridge’s arch. Jasper shot her a reluctant stare and cautiously stepped into the rising stream.
If I can do it, he can do it. He has much stronger legs than me.
And yet, Jasper seemed to struggle.
Maybe he’s… afraid.
She reached out for him. He graciously snapped up her hand, using her weight to pull himself out of the water. His eyes settled on her, almost as stormy as the sky above them. “I will never forgive you for this.”
She gave him a droll look. “And there are many things I don’t forgive you for.”
His lips twitched. “And we’re back to that again.”
Annoyed by his tone, she strode into the water on the other side of the bridge.
“Careful, Saige. There might be a handrail, but I doubt it will do anything if the rapids catch you.”
“Will you shut up? I’m trying to concentrate.”
She focused on putting one foot in front of the other, but God, it was getting harder to lift her boots. The force of the water was stronger now.
She reached out for Jasper. “Take my hand. The current is fiercer here. We’ll need to hold on to each other.”
Their hands touched. Electricity seemed to sear her skin, thawing the cold in her chest.
Jasper waded into the water. This part of the bridge was submerged deeper. The surface of the water now rose to Saige’s upper thigh. She suspected it would reach her hips soon, and if that happened, she and Jasper would be in real trouble.
The books.
She could feel Harriette’s notebook, Theodosia’s journal, and the grimoire pressed against her waist, secure behind her hoodie’s waterproof zip. The current tugged at her legs. The stones beneath her feet were slick and mossy from age. One foot in the wrong place, one slip, and it would all be over. The books would be destroyed.
She trod forward, slow and careful.
We’re nearly there. Just a few more steps.
The water reached up to her hips.
“Saige!”
The alarm in Jasper’s voice made her freeze.
His eyes were wide, his face almost green.
She whirled around and caught what he saw. Panic climbed through every organ in her body. A tree was coming down the flooded creek, branches splayed. The storm, maybe even lightning, had likely caused it to topple. It wasn’t a huge tree, but it was large enough that it would do damage when it hit the bridge. Saige had an image of herself and Jasper floating down the creek as bloated bodies, washing out to sea to accompany the little fishes.
She no longer cared about being cautious. Tugging Jasper’s hand, she loped the last few steps across the bridge. Her boots slipped in the bank’s dank mud, but she managed to get her grip beneath her again.
Jasper wasn’t so lucky. His cry alerted her that he’d fallen. Their locked hands were the only thing that prevented him from being snapped away by the rushing water. It caused Saige to topple. She rolled in the mud, dug her heels in until she found traction, and propelled all her strength into pulling Jasper out.
From the corner of her eye, she saw the dislodged tree approaching fast.
Oh God. No. Please no!
She bit her lip, straining against the pressure in her arms.
Jasper’s gaze flicked anxiously to the tree. Emotions she didn’t like swept over his face in a heartbeat—fear, regret, acceptance. His face slackened, his body heavier. He was giving up.
Angry tears swam into her eyes. “Don’t you dare, Jasper Young.”
You started this crazy journey with me when I didn’t want you to, and damn it, you are going to finish it.
Maybe it was the fierce glare on her face, or a chemical trigger in his brain causing a last urgent need to survive, but Jasper managed to free his other arm from the water and gripped Saige’s hand. He kicked and thrashed against the current while she focused all her energy into pulling him out. Jasper’s feet must have found purchase on the bridge again, because like a cork popping out of a champagne bottle, he leapt out of the creek just as the tree swept past him.
Saige’s relief was short-lived. She slipped into the mud, Jasper landing right on top of her.
For a moment, all they could do was look at each other. Gratitude and surprise shone in his eyes, and something else. She recognised it. Her insides squeezed.
Desire.
It was evident on his face.
And she was distinctly aware of how evident it was in her own body.
Her brother’s warning at the gazebo flared inside her mind, so bright it could have been tattooed on her eyes.
She elbowed Jasper in the stomach. “Get off me.”
He groaned. “Ouch. I just had a near-death experience, and that’s the first thing you say.”
“And you’ll have a second near-death experience if you don’t move.”
He rolled off her, scrambling to get back onto his feet in the sludge. Saige wanted to slap his hand away when he reached down to help her, but she knew she’d never be able to get the strength in her legs to pull herself upright. The mud was like glue. She took his hand, making sure her fingernails bit deep into his skin. He winced, clearly not appreciating the gesture.
They plodded uphill onto less slippery ground, searching for any refuge from the weather. The back of Saige’s trousers was covered in mud. Leaves stuck to her hoodie. She doubted anyone would be able to recognise that she was a redhead. The muck gave the impression of black hair dye gone wrong.
Jasper stared at the branches that loomed above him. “Can you explain what happened back there? That was stupid and dangerous… and it nearly got us killed.” His voice was cold and lethal.
She raised her eyebrows defiantly. “It was a risk we had to take. We made it. We’re close to the manor, so stop complaining and let’s keep moving.”
He rubbed his hand across his mouth, doing a poor job of concealing an unamused snort. “There’s more to it. You’re acting like a real bitch.”
“And why do you suppose that is? I’m stuck with the person who broke my heart.”
She remembered one of the first lessons her mother ever taught her. “Eventually, the truth will always come out. Sometimes it’s just too hard to keep all that emotion contained.”
Elaine Wolvercraft was right.
Saige gulped down lungfuls of air. It was crisp and sharp against her tongue. She told herself that was what made her cry.
Jasper’s sharp brown eyes studied her for a few beats. “Saige, I am sorry, truly, about what I did. Trust me when I say that I have lived with guilt every day since I left. But can we just… talk about what’s going on here?”
“Going on?”
“Yes, back at the gazebo. There was a moment.”
“There was not.”
His impatient glare made her squirm inwardly. “Don’t pretend it didn’t happen. We nearly kissed.”
She stared down at her scratched, mud-smeared hands, unable to find her voice.
“Saige, your brother saw us.”
“Yes, and Xav warned me about you. A pity that warning came years too late.”
Not that she would have listened to her brother’s caution when she was in high school… or the second time she and Jasper hooked up.
There will definitely not be a third time.
Jasper’s eyes had lost their dark edge. “Come on, Saige. There’s still something here… right?”
Does he actually sound hopeful?
She laughed, a pitiful sound to her own ears. “You haven’t changed a bit, have you?”
Jasper stepped forward, then thought better of it. “I… I don’t understand what you’re saying.”
“I’m talking about your current girlfriend. When things get too serious for you, you always find a reason to flee commitment. This time you’re using me and my brother’s wedding as the excuse.”
Colour rose in his cheeks. “That is not true. I’m trying to—”
“Jasper, just grow up.”
She was tired and overwhelmed. She had a curse to destroy.
Jasper’s feelings are not real. He’s using you as his excuse to escape his current relationship.
Do not get sucked in.
She continued her trek up the hill.
“Saige, wait. Just be careful. The ground doesn’t look stable there!”
A sound she couldn’t have possibly imagined in her worst nightmares ripped from beneath her feet. The ground cracked open around her. One second she was standing on leaves and earth, and the next moment she was plunging into darkness, into the unknown. She screamed until the wind was knocked out of her when she hit something solid.
Is that… concrete?
She wasn’t sure. She couldn’t see anything in the dark. For a frantic moment she was worried she must have hit her head and gone blind.
“Saige! Saige, are you all right? Saige! Can you hear me?”
She blinked against the saturated darkness, her eyes taking a long time to adjust. “Yes, I can hear you. I’m fine.”
Apart from shock and a few cuts and bruises, she was okay. She had to be grateful for that.
How far did I fall?
She peered up at the opening. Rain clouds rolled through the trees above.
It’s a sinkhole.
She grabbed her small flashlight from her pocket, amazed the battery still had power. Light cut through the dark. Her surroundings morphed into focus.
A tunnel.
Or a catacomb.
A network of exposed roots twisted across the ceiling and down the walls. What she had mistaken for concrete was granite and stone, the texture slimy and smooth from the rain. An earthy, dusty smell filled her nose. It was the scent of rot and abandonment. She remembered the myth about the Nazis. They’d supposedly forced Russian and Polish prisoners of war to build underground tunnels throughout the island.
“Jasper?”
His head appeared just above the aperture. His flashlight beamed down on her.
She climbed onto her feet to get a better look at him. “I think this is one of the Nazis’ underground passages.”
The tunnel had been hidden away, entirely forgotten, a long-lost secret for decades. Only the storm and rain and her careless footsteps had broken it out of its time capsule.
How is it that Jasper and I found the Nazis’ secret torture chamber in the manor, and now we’ve discovered a tunnel?
Surely that isn’t coincidence?
An uneasy sensation rolled through her gut.
She was starting to not believe in coincidences.
“Saige?”
Jasper’s voice sounded strange.
She gazed back up.
His flashlight sent patchy rays through the downpour. “I don’t think this was built by the Nazis. It’s much older than that.”
She scrunched her nose. “How do you know?”
“Because I recognise the stone. Saige, this is the same stone from that chamber. I think this tunnel connects with Wolvercraft Manor.”