CHAPTER SIX
Did you just call the Spirit of the Woods Mommy?” said Aster. Utter shock and disbelief etched across his features and became clearer when he raised the visor of his helmet to get a better look at the girl.
The little girl nodded. “Yes. And she’s dead, too.”
Bolt wasn’t sure what he found more disturbing: That the Dread God (for who else could it be?) had apparently already killed the Spirit of the Woods or that this little girl stated the fact without any real emotion as if she was describing the weather. In fact, the little girl seemed to have recovered from being caught in the flames already, which told Bolt that this little girl, whoever she was, was not an ordinary girl. And maybe not in a good way, either.
“When … how …” Aster seemed at a loss for words. “What?”
The
