Right. Magic. I have that.
I press my palms flat against the cavern wall and push. Roots tear from the stone, thick and gnarled, winding around my arms and torso. Shadows curl from the darkness below, solidifying into something I can grip.
Between the two, I haul myself upward. The roots lift. The shadows push. Sarnyx releases my leg and catches my arm instead.
Bryx catches my other arm and drags me the rest of the way over the lip. I roll onto my back on solid ground, chest heaving, a warm trickle of blood running from the gash above my left eye.
“What the hell was that?” Bryx asks, still gripping my arm like I might slide back over.
“I don’t know.” I sit up, pressing the heel of my hand against the cut. My head is ringing.
Mora steps forward, her pale face drawn tight as she stares at the cavern. “It’s almost as if the realms are tearing themselves apart. Permanently. The boundary isn’t just thinning anymore. It’sbreaking.”
“Jeez, Kaelren.” Peeble flutters down to hover directly in front of my face, their wings casting tiny rainbow reflections from the barrier. “You almost just went kersplat over the edge. I mean, that would have been very inconvenient for the rest of us. What would we do? Who would brood dramatically and make everyone uncomfortable at breakfast? That was very selfish of you. In the future, I’d appreciate it if you exercised a bit more caution around bottomless chasms. Common courtesy, really.”
I swipe at them, and they dodge easily.
I get to my feet, ignoring the way the ground still feels unstable beneath me, and face the group. Bryx. Mora. Sarnyx. Peeble. Kevin hovering behind Bryx’s shoulder, his damaged wing buzzing at an uneven pitch.
“I don’t know what’s happening,” I say. “But we need to see what’s going on on the other side. If the Earth realm is destabilizing too, we need to assess the damage and figure out how to stop it.” I look at the cavern, then at the shimmering wall. “Crossing the normal way isn’t an option. So I’ll have to make us a door.”
I kneel and press my palm flat against the ground. The corruption in my blood responds eagerly, and I channel it alongside the older, deeper magic the realm grants me.
Roots erupt from the earth, twisting and braiding together as they form an archway roughly eight feet tall. Thorns sprout along its frame, black and silver.
The space within the arch ripples, then clears to reveal the other side. Grass. Trees. The back of a house I recognize.
Jo’s house.
I stand and turn to face the group. “Ladies first.”
Peeble recoils in midair. “Are you insane? Absolutely not. I do not know what’s on the other side. There could be beetle murderers waiting for me. Assassins. Traps. This is exactly the kind of reckless behavior that gets people—”
“Peeble, I don’t have time for this. Will someone please just—”
I don’t finish the sentence.
Peeble, who has been hovering at eye level with me, wings vibrating with indignation, suddenly banks hard to the right and slams into Kevin at full speed. The bee, caught completely off guard, goes tumbling straight through the portal, a blur of fuzzy limbs and frantic buzzing that cuts off the moment he crosses the threshold.
Bryx screeches. “Peeble! Why would you do that?”
Peeble settles in midair, preening one wing with exaggerated calm. “If Kevin ever wants to improve his standing with me, he needs to put in some gallant effort. Chivalry isn’t dead, Bryx, but it does require occasional demonstrations of bravery.” They examine their other wing. “Plus, I’m sure he’s fine. Maybe lost a wing or a leg, but I bet he’s okay.” They clear their throat and shout toward the portal. “KEVIN—ARE YOU DEAD?”
A faint buzzing drifts from the other side. Alive, at minimum.
“See? Told you he’s fine.” Peeble gestures grandly at the portal. “Who wants to go next?”
Sarnyx rolls her eyes and steps through the portal without breaking stride.
Mora follows, with Bryx close behind. Peeble settles on Bryx’s shoulder, mumbling something about shielding themselves with someone disposable from potential threats.
I take a deep breath and follow them through.
I wasn’t expecting what was on the other side.
Sarnyx is in full battle mode. Her bracers are extended, thorns running the length of her arms as she swings her sword through black vines dangling from a dead oak. They move with serpentine intelligence, striking at her. She cuts through one, and two more drop down, reaching for her shoulders and throat.
Bryx and Mora stand back to back near the garden fence. Thick weeds wind around their legs with deliberate, constricting force. Kevin buzzes frantically around them, jabbing his stinger at the vines and barely making headway.
