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Ignatius offers me his arm once more and I grab it, squeezing my eyes closed, but it doesn’t do much to prepare me for the swirl of wind that follows. Air wraps around us, squeezing me, making it impossible to breathe, before it spits us out in the familiar alleyway and I stumble to catch my balance.
“See, that wasn’t so bad,” Ignatius says, making me roll my eyes.
Maybe for him.
Not to my surprise, we’re alone in the alley. The hectic noises of downtown Atlanta hit my ears, the nostalgic feeling quickly making me forget about my dislike of teleporting, and Ignatius gestures with a nod toward the end of the narrow passage.
I follow on his heels, my anxiety mounting with every step I take, until we’re stopping in front of a familiar brick wall. It’s the same one I’ve traveled through four times already. Ignatius waits a beat, and when I drag my eyes away from the brick, I find him already in his natural form.His warlock form.
Bright pink skin that shimmers in the sunlight creeping through the building overhead. His features are more angular, but his shaggy black hair is the same. It’s strange, seeing him in this form against the boring brick of the alley. He sticks out, that’s for sure, and having him in his warlock form makes me nervous that someone will suddenly appear behind us and see him for what he truly is.
“Are you not worried about being seen?” I whisper, looking nervously over my shoulder. There’s no one there, but that doesn’t alleviate my nerves.
“I’ve been seen before,” he laughs, reaching a hand toward the brick and placing his palm flat against it.
My eyes bulge. “What happened?”
Did they try to kill him? Did he have to wipe their memory? I guess that bit of magic could come in handy a lot if he wanted to stroll around on Earth looking the way he does.
“I said it was makeup.” He grins wide just as the portal starts swirling into existence beneath his digits. It blooms into a gaping black hole, identical to the ones I’ve traveled through before, and widens until it’s big enough for the two of us to step through.
“And they believed it?”
“They did. I just told them it was a cosplay for some obscure show, and they seemed content with that.”
I laugh, but the sound is quickly cut off when Ignatius grabs my hand and drags me toward the portal. A small squeak escapes my lips before I’m drowned in darkness, the Atlanta alleyway disappearing, along with the sunlight and the sounds of Earth.
I’m ready for the pitch blackness of the void and the nerve-wracking pause between worlds that always makes my chest lurch, but I’m not expecting how quickly we get through to the other side. It’s a much smoother, easier transition than the times Elio has made a portal, and I can’t help but wonder if it’s something to do with Ignatius’ magic.
Does his strong magic mean he can form a more reliable portal? Or is it something else?
I don’t have time to ask before my feet slam into hard, blackened ground, and I’m swallowed by green light. I immediately feel more at ease with the familiar ambiance.
I expect to emerge in the same place we always do, among the dilapidated buildings from the run-down city near the woods, but there aren’t any buildings in sight.
The dark, gnarly trees of Rafe’s woods sit far off in the distance to our left, with mountains on the horizon to our right. And smack dab in the middle of the clearing is the biggest brawl I’ve ever seen, thousands of bodies slamming into one another.
My chest hitches and my mouth goes dry.
“Oh shit,” Ignatius says, his voice sounding a million miles away.
I can’t tear my eyes away from the scene, watching as a swarm of Malevolent demons and monsters go toe to toe, tearing and clawing at one another in a flurry of horns and fangs and claws. The scene is familiar–too familiar–and I realize after a moment why it sticks out in my memory.
I dreamed almost the exact same thing a few nights ago. This is the war I saw, the one we’ve been waiting so long for.
It’s here, only this time, it isn’t just a fear-induced nightmare. It’s real, unfolding before our very eyes.
I stand there for a full minute, taking in the scene in front of me as the shrieks, roars, and cries of fighting monsters fill the air around me, assaulting my ears. I’m frozen to the spot, unable to turn and run. Barely able to breathe.
It’s one thing to dream about thousands of creatures fighting to the death, but having it in front of me is a whole different ball game.
A terrifying one.
“Devyn, we need to get out of here,” Ignatius says, grabbing my arm to drag me away from the fight, but I can’t move.
My heart races, slamming into my ribs.
When a figure swoops over the fray, wings outstretched along with claws ready to deliver a killing blow, my breath hitches.
