Amara glided to a stop before Thomas and through the filth she recognized him as Tarraine returned from the middle realm. Earthly time had changed him, melded humanity into him. When she looked upon the once bold, rebellious sidhe she saw only the in-between and no future course.
She took his injured hand. Canines had bit to the bone and the mark was very clear. Amara smelled the lycanthrope infection flowing in Thomas’s blood. The hunter would become the hunted. What would Lily do now?
She touched his face with her cool hand; there was such pain in him caught between spirit and flesh. Amara’s lips barely brushed his forehead as she planted the first seed.
“You must follow the past to find her. Listen to your heart and true nature, and you will gain all. Follow your head and you will loose all. All you believe will be challenged. You will be in grave danger for he knows you. She will be your salvation or your damnation. ”
And just as she had appeared, she was gone, leaving only the remnants of mist.
Thomas blinked, not knowing why he had stopped in his tracks. Something important had been given to him but he could not remember what it was. He picked up his pace as the ground sloped; the ground became greener with each step despite the lack of sunlight.
At the bottom of the hill stood an orchard with trees that stretched on forever, Thomas paused when he reached them. Barely any moon light shone through the limbs, tiny blue flames flickered at random.
Move forward but do not go toward the blue lanterns.
Instinctually a part of Thomas woke up. He could not explain why or how he knew this orchard, this place and realm.
Thomas traveled the narrow path lined with wild may apples and fallen leaves wary and with sword drawn. Large ancient roots jutted from the ground creating an obstacle course. Fruit blossoms perfumed the air. The blue incandescence teased him from afar as it flickered along his peripheral vision yet Thomas ignored the lanterns as they tempted him to stray into their territory.
The path seemed to get smaller and, finally, disappeared as he entered a sweeping valley. Thomas noticed silvery glint bouncing off the ground in the distance. Fear kept him going; his skin crawled with each step as he tightened his grip.
As he moved toward it he found the mirage moved ahead as well, just beyond him. It shone like a star fallen to the earth. The tiny hairs rose on the back of his neck, there was no sound only the hush of dread, the calm before the storm.
This is the Shadowlands.
To reach your destination you must stop and allow it to come to you.
“No.” Thomas grounded out stubbornly.
Energy stronger than Thomas pulled him to a halt in his tracks, the sword fell from his nerveless hand. He did not know why he stopped but found he could not move as the air around him grew heavy. Thomas struggled against it for a second then forgot why he was struggling.
Then a portal appeared a few feet in front of him. Its hematite surface was the size of a shield. Star light seemed to pierce it at intervals and it reflected the sky like a mirror. Thomas felt the atmosphere give way with ease. Flecks rose from it like a thousand fireflies swirling around him.
He moved closer to look into the silvery core and saw another self reflected there. The other was cloaked in a grey hauberk with a pitch black wolf pelt flung over his broad shoulders. Thomas looked into eyes the color of old coins, iris ringed with amber; he was startled at his own image.
“Tis’ the devil’s work.”
Tarraine.
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