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lose all sense of magic.” He steps closer, speaking slowly, as if I haven’t been paying attention. “You were attacked by a flying, feathered man tonight. We flickered. I brought you through a portal to a natural wonderland crafted by Mother Nature herself. How do you think anything is impossible at this point?”
    I open my mouth, but stop myself before anything comes out. My desire to argue with him is as instinctive as my response to the word “mystical.” I take a moment to wrap my head around what he’s saying. My world is the mortal realm, and his is the mystical? He’s mystical ? “What are you?”
    “I’m a jeravon.”
    “A what?”
    “Jeravon.”
    I wait for him to say more, and the fact that he says nothing makes me crazy. This is not the time for his “I’m Seth, so you should accept every word that comes out of my mouth” thing. I fold my arms over my chest and shift my weight to one hip before saying, “Well, that’s excellent. I’m a shmiddlydee.” He lowers his head and pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers, but I keep going. “That’s a human who makes up words that mean nothing. Now you tell me what a jeravon is.”
    He rubs his hand down his face and over his chin before settling his gaze on me. “I look human, but I’m not. Jeravons live longer than humans because we age at a much slower pace. I’m also able to heal just about any wound a creature may suffer, as long as the creature is closer to life than death.”
    The words play back again in my head. Magical. Creature. Healer. “Are you telling me you have magical powers?”
    “Yes, Charlie.” His nod is certain, his gaze solid. “That’s what I’m telling you.”
    My laughter seems even louder than usual here, and it dies quickly beneath Seth’s steady stare. “And you age slower,” I say, resting my chin against my chest.
    “We age about one year for every twelve human years.”
    I look around. This is a joke. A very elaborate joke. It’s something Sam would do. He could totally be behind this. But would he have trusted Seth to go through with it? Ultra-serious Seth? He Who Knows No Humor?
    I lower my eyes to my wrist, rolling the tiny beads of my bracelet between my thumb and forefinger, and mutter, “I don’t believe you.”
    It seems like what I should say, but I’m not entirely sure I mean it. It can’t be real—none of this can—but at the same time, we’re here.
    Seth nods. “I know. You’ve been raised to find excuses for these things. When we reach Ellauria, it’ll be much easier to believe. Until then, I’m going to need you to trust me. Come on.”
    He continues walking, apparently certain I’ll follow.
    I can’t ignore the feel of this place. The Between. There’s something about it I can’t quite put my finger on. It’s calming, like I know it and it knows me.
    Trusting Seth shouldn’t be this hard. He’s Seth. Except what does that mean anymore? What do I really know about anything or anybody? Still, there’s something calming about him, too. For once, his annoying self-assurance is exactly what I need.
    Listen to Seth .
    At least I know that whatever this is, wherever I’m going, Mom and Sam will be there too. She said so.
    I swipe a few loose hairs from my face and tuck them behind my ears, then take off after Seth. Honeysuckle crowds the edge of the path, its sweet scent curling around me. Somewhere beyond the trees, water flows. Aside from that, there are no sounds at all. No birds exchanging melodies, no hum of insects going about their business, no wind, no animals. Nothing.
    It’s the nothing I find most concerning. This woodland should be filled with wildlife. Deer, bears, birds, butterflies, snakes. How can there be nothing?
    Something cold and heavy settles in the bottom of my stomach as this new reality creeps in, replacing what I thought I knew. All the things I’d learned and loved about nature from the world I’d grown up in—the deer that roamed the