The roads wound and curved as we drove deeper into the mountains. Dusk’s dark hues settled around us, heightening our tension and foreboding. Val, still watching with preternatural vision, warned me that Tori had slowed as we approached an area that the road signs called Mineral Valley. I eased back on the accelerator as she veered right onto a smaller road. I asked Val to text Skyla again and hoped the message went through despite the patchy reception.

“Fall back a little further,” Val said.

“Are you sure? It’s hard to believe you won’t lose sight of her.”

“Trust me,” Val said. “Hawks can see from about a mile away, right? Hawks have nothing on me. It works sort of the same way that we move through space like we do.”

I gaped at him. “You can blip your eyesight through space?”

“Not exactly, but that’s the best way I can explain it.”

“It’s magic,” I said. “Or whatever it is that makes you guys tick.”

“It’s what makes you tick, too, Solina. It’s the same force that gives you fire.”

“Sol gives me my fire.”

“You are Sol,” Val said. “The more you embrace your powers, the more indistinguishable you become.”

I had nothing to say to that because I had formed a similar conclusion for myself.

At places where the tree line opened, glimpses of a silvery lake shone through, reflecting the purples of the twilight sky. And in the distance, a massive snow-capped peak, glorious and imposing, loomed over the landscape. I sucked in a breath of awe.

“Rainier?” I asked in a whisper as if speaking of a holy thing.

Maybe it was holy. All the grand cathedrals mankind had built over the centuries attempted to mimic that kind of wonder, that sacred place Nature created to pay homage to God. Sorry, mankind, but Nature’s craftsmanship was clearly superior.

“Amazing, isn’t it?” Val said.

“Unbelievable. There’s nothing like that in the mountains where I come from.”

“There’s nothing quite like it anywhere. I told you, we choose sacred places.”

Tori turned again and disappeared from sight. I swerved the Yukon onto the shoulder and let the truck roll to a stop. “That’s a private drive she turned onto,” Val said “The lake is just on the other side of these trees. There’s nowhere else for her to go unless she plans to get in a boat. Wherever she was going, that’s where it is.” Val pointed toward the place where Tori’s taillights had vanished. “And that’s where you and I have to go, too.”

I shivered and rubbed my hands over my arms. All the bravado I’d gathered in Grim’s office earlier in the day drained away, and a cold lump had formed in my gut. “What if she knows we followed her? What if Grim sent her up here, suspecting we would watch them and follow their path?”

“What if he did?” Val asked. “What if this is all a great big trap?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time for us, would it?”

“The last time we were in this situation, you called Baldur and Thorin idiots for falling into it. Say the word, Solina, and we’ll turn around and go back.”

“Go back to what?”

Val shrugged. “You tell me. This is your adventure.”

I leaned away from him and furrowed my brow. “Like you don’t want that sword as badly as I do.”

A single eyebrow arched, and he shrugged. Maybe I do, maybe I don’t, his expression said.

I turned my gaze out onto the darkening road again. “You think there are apples anywhere down at the end of the drive?”

“Apples?” Val asked.

“They were in my dream. I encountered Tori and the sword in an apple orchard in my dream.”

“This is Washington. And the Cascades are apple-growing territory, so I guess it’s possible.”

“So, there’s a pretty good chance that by following Tori, I’m going to fulfill the events of my dream. Question is whether we survive it or not.”

“Did we drive all the way out here for nothing? When have you shied from a fight?”

I sucked in a big breath, blew it out through my nose, and threw open my car door. “It’s like cold water. We can stand here and look at it forever, and it won’t get any warmer, or we can just grit our teeth and dive in.”

In the fading light, Val and I found the driveway onto which Tori had turned.

“I should have brought a flashlight.” I closed my eyes to better focus on my internal power source. Over the past few months, I had learned my biggest conflagrations required the opposite of restraint—I had to abandon self-control. A subtle glow required focus, more application of self-discipline. I was good at subtle glows.

Val gasped. I opened my eyes to see what had startled him and realized I could see him because my candle-glow trick had worked.

“Holy shit,” he whispered.

I shrugged. “What? This? This is nothing.”

“But I’ve never seen it, not like this.” Val’s eyes narrowed, and a hurt look crossed his face. “I’ve heard you and Thorin describe it, but I’ve only seen your flames, a small presentation of them anyway, when you were mad.” Val was talking about the time I had slapped him at the Aerie.

I stiffened my shoulders. “You earned it.”

Val stepped closer and put a hand to my face. “You’re right. I needed that lesson. You deserved better from me.”

I swallowed back a sudden welling of emotion and clenched my jaw. How was he so damned good at getting under my skin?

Val framed my face in both hands and leaned closer, our breaths intermingling. He still smelled vaguely of chocolate-chip cookies. “I don’t know what’s going to happen next,” he said. “If it’s like your dream, it could be bad.”

I swallowed again and nodded.

Val pressed his lips to my temple—a sweet touch, not possessive and demanding but indicative of affection.

Maybe an old dog can learn new tricks.

Instead of desire or serenity, Val’s touch elicited a thundering rumble inside my head. The sounds of a distant, snarling beast filled my ears. And the cries of a man in horrible pain rose above it all. The accompanying images appeared smudged and blurry as if trapped behind a dirty windowpane. The vision showed me a man, bare chested and bound to a stone plinth. A wolf crouched over him, teeth buried in the pale, soft flesh of the man’s stomach. And blood. Everywhere blood.

As the vision faded, the man screamed again—a horrifying torrent of begging and pleading. I pulled away from Val and put my hands over my ears. Always, with Val, those intimate moments triggered dreadful sensations.

“What is it?” Val asked, struggling to keep me in his arms although I fought to get away, to escape the angry beast and a dying man screaming in my ears.

“These visions.” I fell to my knees, closed my eyes, and shook my head. “I never wanted to be an oracle. Never wanted to know other people’s horrors.”