-c- 2008 Mcgraw-hill Ryerson Limited -

At the bottom of the valley, beside the black river, stood a cabin. Not old—ancient. The logs had been hewn with an axe, not a saw. Moss grew thick on the roof. One window was broken. The door hung open.

He decided to go.

“I could be,” she whispered. “For you. Stay, Elias. The valley is kind to those who stay. August knows. He sent you here. Didn’t he?” -C- 2008 mcgraw-hill ryerson limited

He did not shoot the thing. He did not run. He walked forward, past the woman who was not his mother, past the threshold of the cabin, and out into the valley. He walked to the black river. He took the brass compass, wound his arm back, and threw it as far as he could into the dark water. At the bottom of the valley, beside the

She smiled, and her smile was perfect, and that was the problem—it was too perfect. No crow’s feet. No chapped lips from the arctic wind. She hadn’t aged a day in thirteen years. Moss grew thick on the roof