Jeremy in the river reached up his hand.

“Rafe, it’s not real water, remember?” Jeremy said from the end of the bridge. “It wasn’t a real dog or a real house, and it’s not real water.”

He wanted to believe that, but what if he was wrong? There had been a brief moment when he and Jeremy were separated when he stayed in the bedroom to fight the thing behind the door. What if—

He remembered something.

“How do you sing ‘Country Roads’?” Rafe called out to the Jeremy on the other side of the bridge.

The Jeremy in the river called back, “What?”

“The real Jeremy Cox has his own version of ‘Country Roads.’ How does it go?” Rafe called out. The real Jeremy knew every word to John Denver’s “Country Roads,” West Virginia’s state song. Knew it and had his own special version of it.

“Rafe! I’m falling!” The River Jeremy clung to a rock in the water, holding out his hand. Rafe could reach it if he lay down on the boards and stretched out—

“It’s not ‘Growing like a breeze,’ ” Rafe said. “It’s—”

The Jeremy on the bridge called out to him, “ ‘Blow me like a breeze!’ ”

Rafe ran the rest of the way across the bridge and looked back in time to see the River Jeremy sink into the water, which wasn’t water at all but an evil-looking black oil.

Jeremy grabbed him as he panted to catch his breath.

“That was brilliant,” Jeremy said.

“I always liked your version of the song better,” Rafe said. “Come on. Let’s go.”

Sword and bow at the ready, they walked fast along the path that ran parallel to the river. Even though they knew not to be fooled, the river continued to taunt them with bodies in the water and cries of the drowning.

“What is this horrible place?” Rafe said under his breath.

“Skya said it was the place lost souls passed through. A place between…”

“Between what? Heaven and Hell?”

“Between your last breath and your last chance.”

An ax flew past them and the blade struck a tree. Sap, thick and red as blood and smelling of copper, poured from the trunk like an open wound.

Rafe wanted to run but was frozen in place. A Bright Boy stood ten feet away dressed in ragged graveclothes and smelling of dead things. He strode to the tree and pulled the ax from the trunk. The blade glistened brown and wet.

“Good move, Prince. Smart. You’re very smart,” he said. “That trick won’t work next time, though.”

“What do you want?” Rafe demanded.

“What does Chopper want?” the thing asked as he circled them, moving closer like a shark in the water. “Chopper wants you two to hurry up. That’s all. Chop-chop.” He took his ax off his shoulder and started to swing it.

Jeremy shoved Rafe out of the way as they ducked, but by the time the ax blew over their heads, Chopper had disappeared.

—

Rafe lay on his back on the scarred ground. Jeremy hovered over him.

“You all right?” Jeremy asked, looking around, assessing the danger.

“You’re fast.”

“Tempest is a good trainer in the knightly arts of keeping your prince alive.” Jeremy grabbed Rafe’s hand and yanked him off the ground.

“You just saved my life,” Rafe said.

“You saved mine back at the house. New meaning to giving someone the kiss of life. Ready?”

“Not yet.” Rafe wasn’t ready. He could feel this place getting to him. He’d almost died. Jeremy had almost died. If he was going to die, he wanted to know everything now. “Tell me the truth.”

“About what?”

“Back there, that wasn’t our first kiss. Right?”

Jeremy looked at him. “No, it wasn’t.”

“When were you going to tell me?”

“Now, I guess. I was going to tell you at Granny’s, but I chickened out.”

“When we were here before, we were, what? Fooling around? Experimenting?”

“In love,” Jeremy said simply. “If you can believe it. Maybe you can’t.”

Rafe grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled him down for another kiss. No excuse this time. No Bright Boys around. A kiss for the sake of kissing.

And then Rafe let him go. “Come on. Now I really want this stupid book back.”

“Let’s get it back then.” Jeremy held out his hand. Rafe took it and they started off down the dark road that ran along the black waters.

They walked on for what felt like hours. That terrible sense of déjà vu crept up on Rafe again. The hills, the curve of the road, the empty houses…

“I know where we are,” Rafe said.

“This is the way to your house.”

Jeremy held his hand tighter.

They found the gravel drive and walked toward the house. It looked like home with the porch swing and his mother’s flower bed out front. Home but not home. The flowers were all dead, long dead and decayed.

He felt the darkness coming for him now. He didn’t want to go in there.

“Rafe?”