The tree roots we’d used as pillows seemed to sweat with us as the dew fell over the early world in a misty sheet.
We could do this forever. This must be what eternity is like.
It was the best night of my whole damn life.
“You’re not real,” I whisper. “He’s dead.”
“So am I,” the Green Man says. “So are you. Just not yet.”
I raise the axe, clenching hard to stop my hands from trembling.
“Where do you want it?”
He smiles again and kneels in front of me, bowing his head, and pulling his long green hair to either side of his neck, revealing old runes painted across the nape in gold.
