“What are you doing here?” I circled, giving her a wide berth, scanning the tree line for hints of movement to indicate we weren’t alone. There was nothing. It was a quiet night, no birds rustling in the trees, and nothing behind the small piece of land we occupied.
“I came to see you,” she replied, tilting her head. “You look ... tired.”
“Really?” The statement was ludicrous on the face of it. “I’m asleep right now. That’s how you managed to invade my dreams. Maybe you should let me sleep if you’re so worried about my energy levels.”
“You’re also cranky.” She lobbed a smile in my direction, but it was flat. “I take it you had a rough day.”
I opened my mouth, a hot retort on my lips, and then I regrouped. “Are you aware of what’s happening here?”
“I’m aware of what’s happening with you. You’re tense.”
“That wasn’t what I asked. I want to know if you’re aware of what’s happening here, in Hawthorne Hollow.”
She didn’t immediately respond, shifting on the log and stretching her legs out in front of her. It was a stalling tactic, I realized. She was debating how to respond.
That’s how I knew it wasn’t a dream. It was something more.
“You live on another plane, right?” Our previous interaction involved her taking control of the conversation, leading me down a specific corridor and not allowing me to stray. “Does that mean you’re dead?”
“Do I look dead?”
“Why do you always answer a question with a question?”
“Why do you always answer a question with a question?”
It took everything I had not to leap over the log and start throttling her. Honestly, though, I knew it was a waste of time. This wasn’t real. Er, well, it was real in some respects. The conversation was likely happening, it simply wasn’t happening in the way it would for normal people.
“What do you want?” I was too tired to play games with her. “You must be here for a reason.”
She blinked several times, slowly, like an owl, and exhaled heavily. “You never did have any patience. I hoped you would grow out of it.”
“Well what a sad day for you.”
She ignored the snark. “I’m here because I am ... concerned ... about the state of the world today.”
“That’s rather vague. What is it that bothers you? Politics? Sports? How do you feel about the state of reality television? If you’re anything like me, you’re convinced the Kardashians should be locked on a private island and cut off from good, decent folk for the rest of their lives.”
Her face was blank. “I don’t know who that is.”
“And you’re utterly humorless to boot.” I clucked my tongue. “I’m tired. It’s been a really long day. I can’t help but believe tomorrow is going to be even worse. It would be helpful if you told me what you want so I could let my mind drift.”
“Tomorrow will definitely be worse,” she agreed, her expression unreadable, her voice soft. “The tendrils of your life are colliding, Scout. What you are, your potential, will become obvious very soon.”
“Is that supposed to be a good thing?”
“It is the way things were meant to be.”
“That’s also not an answer.”
“I can’t give you the answers you seek. Not yet. You’ll face a reckoning one day, and soon, and then the answers will become clear.”
“So basically you’re saying that you’re completely useless to me. Thanks for that. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your insight into this situation. Your help has been invaluable.”
Her scowl was pronounced. “You must beware the Archimage.”
I froze, the weird feeling from before coming back to haunt me. “What is it?”
“You know.”
“How do I know?”
“Because you’re you. Think.”
I didn’t appreciate the murky games. “Either tell me or I’m leaving.”
Her smirk was back. “We’re inside your head. You don’t really have the option of leaving.”
“You don’t know. I might be able to find a way to leave. Or block you.” The shadow darkening her features told me she didn’t like that idea one bit. “If you want to keep this avenue of communication open, which you clearly do, you need to give me something.
“Now, I don’t know who you are, and I’m too tired to press the issue tonight. I need to know what you’re afraid of. Why were you drawn to this particular moment in time? What is it you’re trying to warn me about? What is the Archimage?”
“It was a book.”
The answer was succinct, and yet it took my breath away. The moment she said it, a few of the missing pieces tumbled into place. “A magic book.”
“That’s the only sort of book we really care about. You don’t see me dropping in to have a chat about Tailchaser’s Song, do you?”
I had no idea what that was, but I filed the title away to reflect on at a different time. “Why is the Archimage important?”
“It’s a tome as old as time.”
“Kind of like Beauty and the Beast?”
Her face remained immobile.
“Never mind.” I waved my hand. “I remember stories about the book. That’s why mention of it jogged my memory earlier. It was supposed to be the most powerful book in existence, and then it disappeared like fifteen years ago or something.”
“Not to play the semantics argument, but it didn’t disappear. It was absorbed.”
I frowned. “I don’t understand what that means.”
“A woman found the book in her possession. Others wanted the book for evil purposes. To keep them from getting it, and to boost her own power, she absorbed the book. Now everything that was in the Archimage is in her.”
Zoe’s dark eyes flashed inside my head, a brief glimpse, and then I was back with the strange woman. “A mage absorbed the book.”
She nodded. “Your new friend.”
“I’ve heard stories about the mage who absorbed a powerful book,” I admitted, my mind busy. “I didn’t really put it together, or maybe I’ve just been too busy to really
