Fated

the wind, and I set off behind him. Grateful for the way he stops on occasion, allowing me a chance to catch up, before he takes flight again—leading me all the way to the beautiful clearing I know from my dreams, as well as the time I drank Paloma’s tea.
    I glance all around, taking in the tall swaying trees, the way each blade of grass seems to dance at my feet. Not quite sure how to feel about his leading me here—but definitely leaning toward uneasy at best, when Raven swoops toward me, lands on my shoulder, and thrusts his beak forward, urging me to keep going, to move all the way through to the other side of the forest where I come across the same hot spring I saw in my dreams.
    And just like in my dream, Dace is here too.

forty-three
    I stand before him, keeping quiet and still. Hoping to observe without notice, prolong the moment before he senses my presence.
    His hair is wet, slicked away from his forehead—the light filtering through the trees in a way that slings a series of shadows over his face. And when Raven lifts from my shoulder, glides to a nearby branch where he looks down upon us, the beat of his wings causes Dace to look up, not the least bit surprised to find me wandering through a mystical dimension that remains hidden to everyone else.
    “From the moment I saw you, I knew you were different.” His head tilts in a way that darkens his face, as my hands curl to fists, my body braces for just about anything. The last time we were here, it didn’t end well. And there’s no way to prove this isn’t a setup—that I won’t be forced to relive the nightmare again.
    “Yeah?” My voice is curt, edgier than planned. “And why’s that—what gave me away?” I focus hard on his eyes, seeing thousands of images of me glimmering back—a long, rigid line of a girl with dark flowing hair.
    He shrugs, shoulders rising and falling as though he’s truly perplexed. “Guess my instincts are good. Some things you just know without question,” he says.
    “Was it instincts that brought you here?” I move toward him, the toes of my boots edging up to the spring. “Or did you see it in a dream?” My pulse thrumming triple time the second the words leave my lips. But I have to know, and there’s no way to ask coyly, no other way to phrase such a thing.
    Was he really there too—or was it all just a product of my wildest imaginings?
    “Waking life—dreaming life—who’s to say where reality lies?” He grins, a glorious flash of sparkling eyes and white teeth, before he goes on to add, “This place is like a dream, but I’m pretty sure we’re awake.” He fingers his arm, gives himself a quick pinch. “Yep, I’m awake—you?”
    My eyes roam the length of him—drinking in strong shoulders, a smooth bare chest, stopping where the water dips low at his hips. So distracted by the sight, I nearly miss it when he says, “But to answer your question, it was my mom who introduced me to this place when I was a kid, and it’s been a favorite of mine ever since.”
    I swallow hard, noticing how gracefully he avoided my question, but I decide to let it pass, there’s no reason to push it.
    “So, you coming in?” He motions toward the bubbling space just beside him, as I look to Raven for guidance. Only to watch him flit from the tree to the back of a beautiful, black horse I hadn’t noticed ’til now. He’s brought me where he wants me—it’s up to me to see it through.
    “I’m not really dressed for it.” I sweep a hand over my jeans, point toward my boots. Not exactly the clothes I wore in the dream, and I’m hoping that’s a good omen.
    Dace lifts his shoulders, causing tiny droplets of water to sluice down his sides. “You’re gonna let that stop you?” He looks at me, slicks a hand through his hair, as I gnaw the inside of my cheek, unsure what to do. His voice warm and coaxing when he says, “C’mon, water’s great. Besides, I promise not to peek.”
    He makes a show of turning away and placing his hands over his face, as I stand before him—weighing my options.
    Should I do what Raven wants and join Dace in the hot spring, which could turn out as badly as the dream?
    Or should I ignore them both and be on my way—even though I’m not really sure where that is?
    Remembering what Paloma told me about Raven having more wisdom than me, that it may not always make sense but I have to learn to trust him—I slip off my jacket and shoes, shimmy out of my jeans, then yank