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She heaved open the heavy oak door. A gust of frigid wind swept in.

But instead of the forest, there was nothing. Only a vast emptiness—a yawning, bottomless abyss, blacker than anything she’d ever seen.

“Oh no!” Luck cried, pressing both palms to her cheeks in mock horror. “Did I forget to mention that door doesn’t lead anywhere?”

The blackness had a suction to it. Taly stumbled forward. Her aether flared, what was left of it, and she thrust the magic outward, reaching for something—anything—solid enough to grab onto.

But all she felt was hollowness.

The Weave was there, but thin and trembling, stretched to the breaking point.

It clicked then. A strange sense of clarity settled in the back of her mind.

“I’m dreaming,” Taly whispered.

At the realization, the doors slammed shut on an invisible wind.

None of it was real. Not the tavern, not the gun in her hand—not even the pain in her lungs, which eased with each breath now that she knew it was nothing but shadows in her mind.

“Luck, here, has the ability to pull others into her dreams.” The corpse was back on his feet, standing beside the table. Not dead after all.

“That’s impossible,” Taly murmured, rubbing her chest. “Humans don’t have magic.”

“You did,” Luck countered. Taly’s brows flicked up.

“Humans have their own unique talents,” the corpse explained. “They just don’t surface except under very limited circumstances. Exposure to certain energies, specific locations, even traumatic events… these can sometimes awaken thedormant potential. Our Luck here is a prime example. A confluence of factors, you might say.” He smiled, a chillingly possessive expression, like a collector admiring a rare specimen.

Taly didn’t know if she believed it. Humans with magic? It shattered everything she thought she knew. But it didn’t matter right now. Whoever created this dream, it didn’t change what she had to do.

Her body was still back in the woods, defenseless. She needed an escape.

Luckily, she knew a thing or two about dreams—how they worked, how to find their cracks and weaknesses.

“You think this is enough to keep me here?” Taly raised her pistol. “Dreams break just like anything else. Calcifer, get ready.”

There should have been movement, a shift of weight at her side.

There was only silence.

No claws on the floorboards. No steadying breath.

“Calcifer?” She reached for him, but instead of fur, her fingers met something else—something cold and slick, like leather left out in the rain.

She recoiled, snatching her hand back.

The blue of his eyes flickered, then warped. His form twisted, teeth jutting out at odd angles. His body shrank, curling in on itself, becoming gaunt and gnarled.

Taly yelped, stumbling back.

The goblin-like creature cackled before scurrying off.

Luck’s grin turned feral. “Got ya,” she gloated. “Shit, you really are stupid enough to think I’d pull the mimic in with you?” A scoff. “Typical Fey, always underestimating human ingenuity.”

Talyreallyhated that kid.

“For the record,” the corpse drawled. “I am not a shade, and I am not dead, despite the ghastly pallor.” He gestured down athis body. “Truly, I don’t know why Luck chose this particular form?”

Luck flashed a grin, clearly proud of herself. “Come on, it’s symbolic. I don’t know if you’ve taken a look at your army lately, but they’re, uh, a little past the expiration date.”