"Eva’s warning echoed in her skull—*\"Some doors shouldn’t be opened, Rory, especially not by half-arsed witches with a pendant and a grudge\"*—but the Heartstone had pulsed against her skin all evening, warm as a fresh bruise."
1
"Her torch beam cut through the dark in a wavering arc, illuminating patches of wildflowers that shouldn’t have been in bloom—foxgloves, their speckled throats gaping, and something else, something with petals the colour of old blood."
2
"Just the trees, the flowers, the—"
3
"And then—"
4
"The beam flared, illuminating the grove again—"
5
"Their petals trembled, not from any breeze—there *was* no breeze—but as if something had just passed through them."
6
"She wiped the pendant against her jeans, but the blood—if that’s what it was—kept coming, thick and slow, like it was being pushed out from inside the stone."
7
"Close enough that she could see the way its limbs bent, the way its skin—if that’s what it was—rippled like oil on water."
8
"She blinked up at the sky—*sky*, actual sky, not the suffocating canopy of the grove—and her vision swam."
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"More like it *breathed*, slow and rhythmic, as if something inside it had just woken up."
1
"Not the damp earth and crushed bracken she expected, but something older, something that clung to the back of her throat like copper and burnt sugar."
2
"Her torch beam cut through the dark in a wavering arc, illuminating patches of wildflowers that shouldn’t have been in bloom—foxgloves, their speckled throats g…"
3
"The Heartstone flared once, sharp and hot, as if in agreement."
4
"But the clearing yawned empty before her, the torchlight revealing only more of those damn flowers, their petals trembling as if something had just brushed past…"
5
"It came from everywhere and nowhere, a sound that slithered into her ears and coiled there, vibrating in the bones behind her skull."
6
"The Heartstone seared against her skin, its glow bleeding through the fabric of her shirt, casting crimson shadows across her wrists."
7
"She went down hard, her palms slamming into the damp earth, her torch rolling away and flickering out."
8
"Thin rivulets of dark red oozed from its surface, dripping onto her fingers, sizzling where they touched her skin."
9
"A shape, tall and slender, its limbs too long, too *jointed*, bending in ways that made her eyes ache."
10
"The torchlight caught the curve of a smile, the glint of teeth that weren’t teeth, and Rory’s breath died in her throat."
11
"The sound hit her like a physical force, a vibration that rattled her teeth and made her eyes water."
12
"The trees leaned in closer, their branches twisting, knitting together overhead, sealing her in."
13
"The Heartstone burned in her palm, its blood dripping faster now, splattering onto the flowers."
14
"She hurled herself through the gap, the edges of it searing her skin, burning through her clothes."
15
"Rory rolled onto her back, gasping, her fingers clawing at the earth beneath her."