The dirt road appeared quite quickly once I started walking, and the fresh air made all my problems seem further away—not so much like a blanket around my shoulders. The trunks of the forest trees parted for the dirt path, their wispy leaves closing the canopy in above, allowing passage for enough light to filter kaleidoscope patterns across the ground.
Aside from the graceful breeze and the summer song of birds, I could also hear my tactless, human guards following me. If I were human, I’d never notice them there—they were really quite clever—but I could smell them and hear their hearts pumping as they tried to keep up with me. Poor things. Mike shouldn't have them following me until they can handle it.
“Would you like some company, my lady?”
I turned to Arthur, approaching from behind. “Hello.”
“Can I walk with you?”
“I—” I was about to say no, but he looked so young and carefree in his jeans and white button-down shirt, with the sun making his messed hair gleam, that I didn't have the heart to tell him I was in a bitter mood and just needed everyone to leave me the hell alone. “Yeah, okay. I'm not really sure I’ll be very good company, though, Arthur.”
“Is something on your mind?”
I laughed. “There always is.”
“Would you like to talk about it?”
I pressed my lips together and rolled them to one side. “No. I mean, I would, but I think distracting myself might be better.”
“Very well, then,” he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I shall do my best to blindly steer your mind around these undefined troubles.”
I laughed again, bumping shoulders with him gently. “Thanks, Arthur.”
“Anytime.”
We held a smile between us for a second past uncomfortable, until I looked away. He was so much like David—the ancestral connection very clear between the two—which made walking out here, in a forest, hard—made me very glad David was actually alive, or I might’ve fallen to the floor in a sobbing mess. “You look so human today, Arthur.”
“I do?” he said, half frowning, half smiling.
“Yeah. I mean…I guess I just never pictured you in jeans.”
He looked down at his pants, shrugging. “Well, I can be quite human at times. I trust, by the end of my stay, you will have a more unguarded opinion of me.”
“Unguarded?” I asked, noticing the path narrowing at my feet, closing in with long, green grass. “Oh, you think I don't trust you.”
“You’re just guarded.” He smiled, looking away quickly. “Like you're afraid you might say something you shouldn’t.”
Hm. Clever. “You have been around for a while, haven’t you?”
“Well,” Arthur began, looking up as Petey came running down the trail toward us, “you pick up a little about human nature when you live for a few—for as long as I have.”
“Hey, Petey.” I squatted down and scratched the top of his head, then peered up at Arthur. “How long have you lived?”
“Lived?” He bounced a little as he started walking again. “I lived for only thirty years.”
“You know what I mean.” I followed him, patting my leg for Petey to come, too. “And technically, you’re still living. Since vampires aren’t dead.”
“Hm.”
“Do…do you ever get tired—of living?”
He made a tight line of his lips, a smile in his eyes, and nodded.
“So, are you alone now? Like, were David and Jason the last of your bloodline?”
“Yes.”
“I'm sorry, Arthur.”
He reached across Petey, who walked between us, and took my hand. “Well, at least I still have you.”
“Yes. You do.” I gently squeezed his fingers. “We immortals have to stick together, right?”
“Right. And I must say, I look forward to your friendship over the years to come.”
I almost thought about that for a second—eternity—but my dad’s face popped into my mind, and the idea of seeing him die one day, knowing I’ll never see him again, felt too heavy, so I pushed it all aside and dropped Arthur’s hand, walking a little faster.
“Everything all right, my lady?”
“Yeah.”
“Then, why the sudden dash for distance?”
“I don't like to think about it—eternity. It’s just a bit…well…”
“Empty.” He nodded and we both slowed, coming to the edge of the forest, the trees opening out to a wide field of wind-swept grass; its hues of pale green on a backdrop of blue ran as far as the eye could see. “I shouldn't say this, as I do not wish to cause you grief, but I understand the pain of living without those we love. I know you think of David when you imagine eternity, and—”
“Please.” I closed my eyes, angling my head away from him. “Please don't talk about him.”
“Of course, my lady.”
I started ahead, my footfalls sinking heavily on the uneven ground, while my fingers ran lazily through the blades of grass, making sweeping motions, like I did in the dreams where I walked a field much the same as this, with Jason.
“Do you see that—where the ground disappears up there?” Arthur pointed ahead, past the lone, wide tree.
“Yeah.”
“That’s the cliffs and—”
“The lighthouse.” I looked all the way up at it in the distance; white, tall, just like I imagined it would be, but also really far away—enough that I could cover it with my thumb from where I stood. “This place is beautiful,” I said.
“Yes. I have always loved it here,” Arthur noted, then pointed to a steep incline of trees to our left that bordered the manor—leaving the other side of this grassy plane open. “Have you been told of the myth about that forest.”
“Um, yeah—something about if you go in there at dawn, you’ll be trapped for eternity.”
“Correct.” He smiled, walking with his hands behind his back.
“This place has so many of those stories. I've heard several since I came here,” I noted, watching Petey run ahead, chasing a murder of crows.
“Well, live in any one place for long enough, and myths will form. Nevertheless, be mindful to choose carefully which ones you believe, Princess. All legends derive from some fact.”
“I’ll be fine,” I said, hiding a smile, but stopped walking suddenly when the tree came into full view. “That’s my tree!”