Chapter 51: The Nature of Demons

Beyond the canopies of the towering trees, the sun began to sink from the sky. The cerulean light bathing the Eight Trees faded to a murky green, smothered by the thick tapestry of leaves above. Oliver was sitting upon the edge of the outcrop where he and Odeile had talked, his legs swinging aimlessly in the open air.

The air turned still colder around him, the wind knifing viciously past his exposed skin. But Oliver felt no desire to go back down. He just sat there, waiting. Maybe, a small part of him hoped, that if he remained where he was long enough, he would finally find some answers to his questions.

But his mind remained firmly blank, no matter how hard he tried to focus.

A loud, dramatic sigh made him jump. He looked over to find Zarine beside him, in the guise of a white wolf curled up on a cloud of mist, floating in the air. “Isn’t this simply thrilling,” she said.

Oliver turned away pointedly.