The next few days were heavy and tense. Nobody said it, but we were all thinking the same thing—Arlo wasn’t acting like himself.
He’d been gone for hours at a time, claiming to be “researching ways to cross safely into the shadow realm,” but whenever we asked for details, he changed the subject or brushed us off. His notes were scattered across the table in the library, pages full of symbols, torn maps, and strange words written in his messy handwriting.
Asher didn’t like it. “He’s hiding something.” He said one morning while we were training behind the packhouse. “His energy feels… off. Like it’s being pulled somewhere else.”
I’d felt it too. The quiet hum of power that usually surrounded Arlo had turned jagged, like it was flickering between two different worlds.
“He’s probably just
