CHAPTER 10
BLANCHETTE
“You said this was a short hike,” I muttered under my breath.
Jonathan had shown up just before dusk, backpack slung over one shoulder, offering little more than a nod to signal it was time. I wore leggings, tennis shoes, and a light hoodie, with my hair pulled back, and had packed thoroughly.
The light was just starting to shift, and I could already see it painting the tops of the trees ahead. It looked magical, like something out of a fairytale. If we timed it right, we’d make it to the ridge just before the sky caught fire.
We hadn’t spoken much as we walked. Just the occasional warning from him about loose footing here, a low branch there.
The woods around us had started off gentle, the path wide and welcoming, soft earth beneath our boots, tall grasses brushing my legs, the faint sound of the rippling lake behind us, and the view of the trees ahead that were beginning to press inward.
I stepped over a fallen log and caught my breath as the trail shifted, steeper now, with underbrush clawing at my legs.
“Well, if you hadn’t packed like you’re mapping temples,” Jonathan teased, “it might feel shorter.”
“I was being practical,” I defended.
“The emergency kit was a bit much.”
“You said it was overgrown. What if we get lost?” I asked in worry.
“On a trail I’ve taken hundreds of times? That would be interesting,” he shot back, all casual arrogance. I huffed.
He was right there, calm and unbothered, like the climb hadn’t taken a toll on him at all. He wasn’t even winded.
I was. But I refused to show it.
Instead, I looked back at the path, brushing a branch aside as I asked, “How much farther up is it?”
“You’re not very patient, are you?” he asked, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“No, I am,” I said before sucking in a winded breath, keeping my tone even. “Just…curious.”
He called back, “Want me to carry your pack?”
“I’m totally fine,” I lied. My calves were already beginning to burn. “Just pacing myself.”
Then he stopped, waiting for me to catch up. “I should warn you—it gets a bit more unpredictable from here on.”
Now the woods were beginning to press in around us.
The trees here were older, their trunks filtering golden shards that flickered as we moved, the sun casting long gold streaks that bathed everything in a warm, honey-colored glow.
The hush deepened, like the forest was closing its mouth around us, swallowing us up.
“Define ‘unpredictable,’” I said warily.
Jonathan smirked, nudging his head forward. He was enjoying this, I realized. “Come on.”
We rounded the bend…and everything changed.
The path narrowed sharply, swallowed by overgrowth.
Branches reached across like arms, clawing at our sleeves and hair.
Knotted limbs arched overhead, forming a loose canopy that choked what little light remained.
The air cooled, damp with moss and old things.
Roots twisted underfoot, and the ground felt uneven, like we’d stepped into someplace not entirely meant to be walked on.
The golden hue was gone. In its place, shadows crept.
I froze when I heard rustling.
It came from the brush just ahead. No, to the left.
Then again. Closer this time.
Jonathan stopped, bracing one foot ahead of the other.
Something darted through the undergrowth loudly, scattering leaves and thorns and breaking twigs in its wake. Whatever it was, it bolted away from us, deeper into the woods.
My heart was screaming, beating furiously. I let out a shaky breath.
Without a word, Jonathan reached back and pulled something from his pack in one swift motion. His arm lifted—and I caught sight of it. A glint. Silver and cold.
A freaking machete.
I stopped breathing, my eyes rounding like an owl’s.
He held it up, the arched curve catching the last of the dusky light, then brought it down hard, slashing through a thick wall of vines like they were paper.
He turned slightly toward me and smirked. That was it. Like brandishing a machete was just another normal charming personality quirk…up there with owning a cat or collecting records.
I blinked, trying to quiet the irrational part of me that still buzzed from the burst of adrenaline.
He gestured forward, so I followed. A few steps through the brush, he stopped abruptly and I nearly walked into him.
“Damn,” he muttered, crouching low as he studied the trail ahead.
I followed his gaze and saw why.
A section of the path had completely eroded.
The ground split clean through, a jagged gash cutting across the narrow trail.
The upper crust of soil jutted out on both sides, too wide to step across and too high to jump.
The drop below wasn’t massive, but it was steep and choked with brush and debris.
“We had heavy rain this past winter,” he said, frowning. “Looks like it washed through.”
“Well,” I said, planting my hands on my hips. “Guess we’re turning around, then.”
Jonathan didn’t move. “Nah. We can do this.”
I blinked. “What? I can’t jump that. I could barely get to this point without having a heart attack.”
He gave a nonchalant shrug. “Giving up so easily?”
“I’m not giving up,” I snapped. “I’m saying I physically cannot leap across that unless I transform into a sprite in the next few seconds.”
He looked at me then, “I’m not asking you to. I know how to get across…but you’ll have to trust me.”
I squinted at him. “Says the machete wielder.”
That made him grin, and it softened the sharp edge in his voice. “Come here,” he said, stepping closer to the edge of the divide.
I hesitated. But then muttered, “Fine.”
Calmly, he said, “I need you to hang onto me.”
“What?”
He turned, lowering slightly. He took off his backpack, moving it to his front instead. “Your arms. Loop ’em around my shoulders. Hook them under the straps of the backpack here.”
“You want me to…ride you across?”
There was a dirty joke in there somewhere, but I had enough visions of me falling off his back into the dark depths below to care.
“It’s not that far,” he said, hiding the twitch of his amusement. “There’s a root system over here I can grab onto.”
I looked at him, unbelieving, but didn’t say anything.
“Trust me,” he coaxed.
I stepped forward, unsure.
He crouched a little more, bracing himself. “Arms around. Tight.”
Reluctantly, I looped my arms over his shoulders, intertwining them with the straps of his backpack at his front. My chest pressed against his back, breath catching slightly as the intense warmth of his body radiated through his shirt against my chest.
“Ready?” he asked, his voice gravelly.
“Almost—”
Before I could finish the word, he surged upward.
“Ahh—!” I yelped, clutching him tighter as the ground dropped away beneath us.
He had grabbed hold of a thick, gnarled root protruding from the eroded soil of an upper tree and hoisted us both in one fluid motion…like it was nothing. Like gravity didn’t exist.
I felt myself lift like a child on a carnival ride or a dream where the floor fell out from under you and you forgot to scream.
Only I didn’t forget. I was too stunned to even breathe.
We landed lightly on the far side, his boots planting with a sure, solid thud. He didn’t sway. Didn’t even grunt.
And I…was still clinging to him, helplessly.
“You can let go now,” he said, his voice quiet.
I didn’t move at first. Then slowly, awkwardly, I slid back to the ground, my legs shaky and unsteady.
“That was…” I began.
“A shortcut,” he finished, adjusting his backpack, swinging it back over his shoulders, like nothing unusual had just happened.
No one was that strong. A weird chill ran through me. For half a second, I wondered—
No. That was ridiculous. I was shaken up. Running on adrenaline. Imagining things.
Get a grip, Blanchette.
I stared after him, heart thudding, and tried to pretend it was only because of the drop. Not at the prospect that Jonathan might not be fully human.
As we walked a little further, the trees began to thin as the incline leveled, and suddenly…
We stepped out into an open breeze and bright sky. The world dropped away in front of us.
We stood at the edge of a wide bluff, giving way to a panoramic view so vast and clear, it felt dreamy.
To the right, far below, I could see the twinkling lights of Everwick beginning to stir, the crooked cottages and winding lanes of the town glowing like someone had scattered fireflies.
Beyond it, the rocky coast stretched out until the silhouette of the Moonbeam Point Lighthouse rose against the sea, its familiar crown of light already turning while cutting across the dusk.
The water shimmered copper and violet, reflecting the last fire of the sun as it dipped below the horizon.
“This is…” I started to say, before catching his eye almost in accusation. “You didn’t say it was this beautiful.”
“Some things can’t be articulated,” Jonathan said quietly. He shrugged. “You just have to see them yourself.”
The sun dropped fast. One blink and it had kissed the edge of the sea. Another and the sky shifted. It darkened now, rose gold fading into bruised indigo. I took a few steps forward, drawn by the sight of everything laid bare before us.
I’d lived in Everwick almost my entire life, and I had never seen it like this. Like a veil had been peeled back from my eyes and I could see what the tourists saw. Beauty. Peace. A paradise.
I realized my mistake too late…
I stepped too far.
The ground crumbled at the edge, loose soil giving out beneath my feet. Suddenly there was nothing beneath me. The ground vanished.
I dropped. I had no time to scream.
Air rushed past my face—just a blur of sky, of open space—and for a terrifying second, I felt weightless.
Then a hand.
It clamped around my arm like a vise, halting my fall with a jolt so violent, it broke my breath.
I was dangling.
One foot scraping for something solid, the other swinging wildly above the drop.
I looked down…and wished I hadn’t. The cliffside fell away in a sheer drop, vanishing into a tangle of bramble and darkness far below. “Jonathan…” I choked out.