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With the light.

“Wait…” Seph forced herself to move. Tosurvive. She pushed through the cold and the heavy weight of exhaustion until she was able to climb to a stand and shout, “Wait!”

But he did not wait, and Seph cursed as she hobbled after him, half running, half stumbling in the dark. Her lack of sleep was swiftly catching up to her. Eventually, she got close enough to Marks that he stopped and looked back at her. His former humor was gone. “I have no further business with you. Your terms were to see you safely out of the pit. Nothing more.”

“I know, but I have no idea which way to go.” She halted before him, though her body would not stop shivering. Now that she was out of the pit, the wind cut sharp and swift. “I d-don’t know this part of the forest, but if you could just point me b-back to Harran?—”

“No.” He turned away from her and resumed walking.

No?

Seph grumbled and jogged after him. “Perhaps you misunderstood. I’m not asking for you to physically escort me there. I just need a little help with direction?—”

“I did not misunderstand you. You can’t go home.”

Wait, what? “Why not?”

“Because the way is sealed.”

“The way? What are you talking about?”

A twig snapped beneath his tread. “You stepped through a temporary tear in the veil,” he said with a mark of impatience, “compliments of High Lord Massie. It was the same tear I myself walked through, but that tear is now closed. If you wish to return to your mortal lands, you’ll have to head east for the Rift and pray you’re not torn apart by a thousand depraved.”

Seph’s steps slowed to a halt and she stared after him, unable to move as his words registered.

She was in Canna.

The kith lands.

Seph looked around her, at this dark and pervasive mist that hid the world. Was it true? Had she really stumbled into kith territory? Marks had no reason to twist any truth about that, and yet…

She recalled how the mist had thickened—unnaturally so—and the strange sensation that’d swept over her skin before she’d fallen into the pit.

It also explained the depraved.

Seph jogged after him again as a horrible and overwhelming dread bloomed inside of her. This time, she heard him grumble, and she imagined him rolling his eyes. “How do I get back?” she demanded.

“I already told you,” he said without a glance in her direction.

“There has to be another way.”

“There isn’t.”

“You said I followed you through a t-tear, so how do I find another one?”

“You don’t.”

“How d-did you find that one?”

Marks’s shoulders tightened with irritation, but he didn’t answer.

“Did you win over Rys’s good nature with that charming personality of yours?”

This time, Marks stopped in his tracks.

A long breath passed.

“I don’t have time for this,” he murmured to himself, his back to her still. The mist curled around his massive frame, as though he were lord of it, and then, with sudden decision, he unhooked his bow, quiver, and pack, setting them down to pull off his coat.