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But there is darkness beneath the magic, a force pulling the visitors deeper and deeper into the place’s mysteries. As the boundaries between the secret land and the outside world begin to collapse, each of the visitors is confronted with visions of an otherworldly child, a child whose existence holds the key to understanding everything about the place that has drawn them together.
Who is this child? Why did she choose them? And will she ever let them go?
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“Tell me one.”
Amal let out a little groan as Val hit a pressure point. “Told you, I don’t know yet.”
Val sighed. “Well, one you’re thinking about. A rough draft. I won’t tell anyone.”
“Ok.” Amal thought for a moment. “Imagine all this with a painted acrylic background and comic-art figures, like a collage, although it’ll all be digital. And kind of slow, meandering guitar music in the background. There’s this isolated little village in the woods. It’s called Ballysherrin.”
“So it’s in Ireland.”
“Hush. Let me tell it.”
“No, it’s not anywhere real. So in Ballysherrin. . .” It took shape behind her eyes. “In Ballysherrin there’s this garden in front of one of the houses. And in this garden are plants that only bloom at night. They smell amazing. Anyone who passes by has to stop and see what these flowers are. And when they stop, they see that there are also fruits on this plant. White flowers and white fruits. And, of course, as delicious as it smells, they have no choice but to bite into one of the fruits. But inside the rind is just a key. A key made out of bone and teeth.”
“Gross,” Val muttered, but Amal pressed on.
“When you find this key, you notice the little stone building next to the garden. You thought it was just a shed before, but now you see the keyhole in the door. You turn the key and unlock the door.”
Val’s hands stopped moving against Amal’s back. “What’s inside?”
“The day you die.”
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