Kaelren goes very still beside me. Through the bond, I feel something sharp and complicated move through him, like recognition layered with a revulsion that goes deeper than he’s letting show.
“That’s what I saw in Iteration Fourteen.”
Thalia gives him a solemn nod.
“The Cathedral has a core,” the Sage says. “A center intelligence that drives it. And every cycle, during every Bloomfall Moon, the Verdance sends people to try to reach it. To end the siege at its source.”
“And?” I ask, though the answer is already written on Thalia’s face.
“No one has ever gotten close enough.” Her voice is quiet but strained. “The Cathedral adapts. It learns from every attempt. The outer defenses are bad enough. Vine armor. Root constructs. Petal mouths that can swallow a person whole. But there is something deeper that we do not understand. People go in and do not come back, and the Cathedral grows larger with what it takes.”
Silence follows.
The grove shimmers faintly around us. A reminder that this pocket between places will not last much longer.
“How many attempts?” Kaelren asks.
Thalia meets his eyes. “Enough that I’ve stopped counting.”
“Well, that’s reassuring! Can’t wait for this party. I’m sure it’s a real riot. Literally,” Peeble chuckles at themself.
The Sage cuts Peeble a glare that shuts them up.
“The next Bloomfall Moon is close,” the Sage says. “When you arrive in the Verdance, you will have limited time before the Cathedral manifests again. Thalia and her council will brief you on the full situation. What I need you to understand now, before we run out of space to stand in, is this—”
The Sage’s amber eyes hold mine. Steady. Ancient. Absolute.
“If Iteration Nine falls this time, there is nothing left. No resets. No branches. No chances. The Rootline dies. Wynmire dies. Even Earth goes dark. Permanently.”
I feel Kaelren’s hand find mine. His fingers lace through mine and grip hard, and I grip back just as hard, neither of us looks at the other because we don’t need to. The bond says everything.
“What is different about this time?” I dare to ask, already having an inkling why I always find myself in these godforsaken situations.
The Sage gives me a sad smile. “Because you two are the ones who broke the cycle and stopped the clock. Everything is now in stasis.”
Of fucking course.
“So we go to the Verdance,” I say. “And we figure out how to do what no one else has done.”
Thalia looks at me for a long moment. Something moves behind her green eyes, a flicker of emotion she clamps down before I can read it. “The Verdance will welcome you,” she says. “The city knows who you are. It’s been waiting for you.”
The air shifts. Subtle at first, a shimmer at the edges of my vision, like heat haze on a highway in July. The copper-trunked trees flicker, their blossoms fading in and out of focus.
“We’re out of time,” Thalia says, and she’s already moving closer to us.
The grove shimmers harder. The trees are transparent now. The beach behind us has gone watery and thin, the teal ocean visible one moment and gone the next. The warm, living air is cooling, thinning, losing its pulse.
The Sage watches the grove dissolve around us, and something in their expression shifts into a look of sadness. The flowers at their feet are wilting, curling closed one by one, petals going papery and thin.
“The Verdance awaits you,” the Sage says, their voice carrying through the wind. “Thalia will see you through the threshold.”
The crack in the air widens. Behind it, I glimpse green light. I feel Kaelren’s arms go around my waist, pulling me close to him. Feel Peeble dig their legs into my shirt. Feel Thalia’s shoulder brush against my arm as she moves closer.
Then the pocket collapses around us. The tropical paradise folds in on itself like a paper lantern being crushed, light and color and warmth compressing to a single point.
The Sage’s hand sweeps down.
Darkness.
