Page 20 of Presence

“You didn’t. She failed you,” he says earnestly. “Deep inside, you tell yourself otherwise, but that’s the truth.”

“Right,” I murmur, hanging my head low.

“But we can leave all that behind now.”

His words sink in, and I find myself leaning toward him, his gaze locking me in place.

“How?” I ask, the air charged with anger and turbulence, like lightning. I breathe it in, feeling it energize every cell of my body.

In this moment, I let go of everything and decide to follow Echo, wherever he leads, away from this torment.

Didn’t he already help me sleep? I can trust him. I know I can...

“By running away together,” he says simply, a sheepish smile breaking through. The storm behind him quiets. The wind stops howling, and the smell of cotton candy returns. “There’s so much more to dreams than bad memories and healing. Let me show you wonders, Claire. Let’s fight those scary shadows together, hm?”

My hesitation lingers like the dark clouds above, but his words promise relief from the weight I’ve carried alone for so long. I nod slowly, my decision solidifying because of how he looks at me. Like I’m his treasure.

Something forms between us. A pact that transforms me.

“Okay,” I breathe out. “Let’s run.”

And then Echo stands, offering his hand with a grace that belies his power. This time, I don’t hesitate. I take it and grip it hard, waiting for him to take me away from here.

And he does.

7

The haze breaks

The place Echo brings me to looks like an oversized forest. As soon as I take his hand and step forward, a fresh breeze caresses my face, and the world around us transforms. Suddenly, we’re in a place filled with towering trees, the forest floor beneath our feet, and the sounds of birds singing high in the canopy.

“Woah,” I mutter as Echo pulls me along. He holds my hand tightly, as if worried I might let go and run away. His hand is almost as warm as the suddenly humid air. “What just happened?”

“We ran away, just like you wanted,” he says, smiling at me.

That’s when I notice his entire outfit has changed. The polo shirt and slacks are gone. Now, his chest is bare except for a fang-shaped necklace, and he’s wearing Hawaiian-style shorts. His feet are bare, and so are mine. I stomp my feet into the moist forest floor, but as soon as I realize it, my first instinct is to freeze and scream because of all the potential dangers. We are in what seems to be a tropical jungle, casually walking barefoot on ground that could be teeming with all sorts of dangers. Snakes, venomous frogs, spiders... Damn.

But then another thought soothes me. We’re in a dream. I can’t be harmed here, not with Echo by my side. That’s probably why there aren’t any sharp twigs or dry leaves stabbing my feet. Instead, there’s just softness and the gentle rustling of moss underfoot. It feels like walking on a cloud-like carpet, cool with dew.

It feels amazing. Nothing like what I could ever experience in real life, I’m sure of it.

“Did… Did I create all this?” I whisper in awe, taking in my surroundings. This place doesn’t resemble any memory of mine; it’s too surreal, too breathtaking. No, this must be a world born from imagination.

I extend my free arm and run my fingers along the bark of a massive tree. The trunk is so wide that at least three people my size could fit inside if it were hollow. And its height? This tree could easily rival the tallest skyscrapers on Earth. All the trees here are like this, forming an immense forest with thousands of thin rays of sunlight filtering through their broad mistless canopies. Among the branches, nestled between the beams of light, are tiny twinkling lights, resembling stars scattered across the leaves. Some of these sparkles are lower, though fewer in number. I can’t quite tell what they are, but they remain still, unconnected by anything. They simply… exist.

If this was my creation, then I must commend myself for my imagination, because wow, I thought I’d lost the ability to create after everything that’s happened. But Echo quickly corrects me.

“No, it wasn’t you,” he says as we match our steps. No longer pulling me along, he walks beside me. In the dappled sunlight, he looks like a wood elf, his skin moonlight pale, and his eyes shimmering. “It was me, actually.”

I bite my lip in surprise. “I thought we were in my head,” I recall his earlier words. “Shouldn’t I be the only one who can manipulate things here? In this dream?”

The humid air makes me sweat. With each step, a thin layer of moisture forms on my back and chest. I place my palm on my chest and feel the heat of my skin. I’m wearing only a bikini top with a thin, see-through shawl tied around my neck and waist, draping over my hips. I bite my lip harder but stay silent about my attire. I’m not exactly covered, but I’m not naked either. Besides, if Echo chose this outfit for me, he’s got a good eye.

I look sexy as hell.

“Oh, Claire,” he says, shaking his head, his hair falling perfectly across his forehead despite the humid air, as if held in place by some magical force. “If there’s one thing you need to know about mysticism, it’s that not everything is as literal as you think.”

My eyebrows knit together. “Wait, what? What does that mean?”

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