Jude rubbed his eyes and stood slowly, careful not to wake the others. The wooden floor creaked under his weight as he crossed to the open window and looked out over the camp. The early mist had settled like a blanket across the treetops, veiling the world in softness that belied the fear coiling in his gut. What had happened last night wasn't a shared dream or hallucination. Something had *spoken* through them. It had used their bodies, their voices. And it had known things only he should know.
His palms still itched where he had touched Stella's shoulders, remembering how her skin had felt colder than it should have, like she had been underwater for hours before emerging. And then all of them, simultaneously, looking at him with that unnatural stillness. The voice, no, voices, fused together like strands braided from separate minds. He couldn't shake the last thing they'd said, whispered directly into his bones.
"You will remember."
But remember what?
