Chapter Six
BEAUTIFUL DAY. ABSOLUTELY gorgeous. The air is crisp, musky and cool. The sky is greyish-blue. No sign of rain. Crisp leaves crunch underfoot. This is the life!
Cate steps over acorns while chipmunks rush around the forest floor, chirping greedily, flicking their tiny tails. Crows caw overhead. Spooky sound. The crows can stay up there in the treetops, thank you very much.
They don’t, of course. When she arrives at the forest’s edge, she sees those huge black birds circling in the sky.
Circling, circling, watching, waiting.
Cawing.
So this is Mystic Ridge, the ridge itself. A steep drop, not that Cate’s keen to look over the edge. No, she’s not scared. But her chest does feel tighter than usual as she gazes across the land: tiny trees in the distance, the rise an
