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C ora dismounted Valorre and watched from the road as Ailan approached the edge of the cliff. The dark sea stretched out toward the horizon while the first blush of dawn slowly crept from behind the mountains in the east. Cora’s heart climbed higher into her throat with every step Ailan took toward the cliff’s edge. It triggered her instinctual terror to witness something so outwardly dangerous. But according to Ailan, the tear lay at the very edge.

Don’t fear for her , Valorre said, nuzzling her shoulder. She’s right. I can feel the tear just ahead .

Uziel shot up from the other side of the cliff, finished with whatever beast he’d taken to the beach to consume. He landed with a thud down the road. The rustling in the woods behind Cora told her Ferrah and the third dragon were nearby too.

The wagon door swung open and Mareleau emerged with Noah in her arms. Her eyelids were heavy with sleep and her silvery tresses were plaited in a messy braid down her back. “What’s happened? Did we—oh, devils.”

Mareleau’s gaze caught Ailan’s figure at the edge of the cliff. The woman stood with her hand outstretched, her patchwork petticoats billowing behind her on the early morning breeze.

Mareleau’s shoulders fell. “Don’t tell me…”

“Yep. The tear is inconveniently located at the edge of a godsdamned cliff.”

Not a fan of cliffs , Valorre added.

Ailan continued to reach into the air before her as she took another step closer to the edge, then to the left. She leaned slightly forward…

Her fingertips disappeared.

She whirled toward them with a wide smile. “It’s here. We can step through it.”

“Or maybe plummet to our deaths,” Mareleau said under her breath.

Valorre conveyed his agreement. Not a fan of plummeting to my death .

Ailan faced Uziel, who eagerly padded over to her, head low like an obedient puppy despite his massive size. She whispered something in the fae language to him, then stepped aside. The black dragon took her place at the edge of the cliff and charged forward without a hint of hesitation. His head disappeared first, then his sinuous neck. His enormous belly and hindquarters followed, then finally his tail. Now there was only sky. Ailan continued to watch the space until a black scaled snout protruded from nothingness. Uziel flicked his tongue and disappeared once more.

Ailan gave a satisfied nod. Then, angling her head over her shoulder, she spoke in her ancient language again. Ferrah darted from the forest toward the cliff in a blur of opalescent white, and a slightly smaller green dragon raced after her. Showing the same confidence Uziel had, they sprang off the cliff and disappeared beyond the Veil.

With the dragons gone, Ailan approached the wagon, lips curved in a frown. “There’s no way we’ll get the horses to step off a cliff. We’ll have to hide the wagon somewhere off the road and set the horses free. Considering the difference in the passage of time, it would be inhumane to tether them, not knowing when any of us will be back.”

Cora could agree with that, but…

“What about Mareleau?” she said. “We’re going to make her walk with Noah through El’Ara?”

There was one solution, of course. Once they were on the other side of the Veil, Cora could try to worldwalk her companions to the meadow she and Valorre had accidentally traveled to last summer. Now that they’d accomplished their goal of locating the tear, it was no longer necessary to travel by traditional means. Still, she resisted bringing the option up. If there was one way to make her return to El’Ara even more unwelcome, it would be to worldwalk there.

“I do have legs, you know,” Mareleau said with a withering stare.

Cora returned the look. “You also recently had a baby.”

“I can still manage to walk.”

I have a saddle . Valorre rippled with indignation. And I’m quite comfortable to ride. Everyone knows this.

“We won’t need to walk far,” Ailan said. “The Elvyn have woven triggers throughout the land that are set off by human intruders. A pathweaver will come straight to us.”

That made sense, for that was exactly how the Elvyn had found her and Valorre when they’d entered El’Ara the first time. But Garot had been unable to use his pathweaving in the Blight?—

The blood left Cora’s face as she realized there was another thing she hadn’t discussed with Ailan. She’d assumed her whispers had told her, but…

“Ailan, do…do you know about the Blight?”

A furrow formed between her brows.

Mother Goddess, she didn’t know. Cora desperately did not want to be the one to tell her, and she’d find out for herself soon enough. But didn’t Ailan deserve a warning at least?

“The land around the Veil is dying,” Cora confessed. “It’s a consequence of the mora pouring from El’Ara into the human world and being unable to return. Your people call the dying land the Blight. Pathweavers can’t use their magic to traverse that part of El’Ara. The triggers may not work there either.”

Ailan paled with every word. “I didn’t know. Though I should have. Of course there would be consequences to losing El’Ara’s heart.”

“Having to walk sounds like the least of our worries,” Mareleau said in a dry tone that somehow alleviated Cora’s guilt. Not that the Blight was in any way Cora’s fault, yet she wished she’d have told Ailan sooner. Even Cora had been saddened to see the dead, colorless land of the Blight. She couldn’t imagine how much worse it would be for someone who loved that land.

Ailan steeled her expression. “It changes nothing where our plans are concerned. Let’s proceed.”

They left the wagon deep in the woods away from the road and set the two horses free. Valorre was rather smug about this, but Cora hoped the horses were intelligent enough to make their way back to the Forest People. The wagon itself would have to remain where it was. Thankfully, it posed little threat as evidence. There was nothing inside that would reveal it was ever home to Ailan, only that it belonged to a nomad. Anyone who stumbled upon it would likely assume the owner had met an ill fate while camped there.

Ailan shouldered Mareleau’s bag of belongings while Cora touched each of her weapons in turn—bow, quiver, dagger. A comforting routine in preparation to step off a cliff and return to a realm she wasn’t welcome in. Noah was nestled close to his mother’s chest in the carrying sling Salinda had gifted Mareleau. Together the party left the woods and approached the road. Dawn was spilling farther over the landscape with every minute, requiring more caution as they crossed over to the cliffside. Cora’s gaze darted left and right, her mental shields down, senses extended in case anyone approached. They were still alone. Still safe.

Ailan stepped to the edge and reached into the sky. Her hand disappeared at once. “Cora, do you want to go first?”

Devils, no, but what choice did she have? If Ailan went first, Cora and Mareleau would be left to find the tear on their own. And she wasn’t going to make Mareleau go first.

Swallowing her fear, she took a step?—

I think not , Valorre said darting in front of her. I will test the safety of the tear. We can’t rely on those inelegant dragons, after all . With his head held high, he trotted toward Ailan’s half-invisible hand. In a matter of heartbeats, he was gone.

Cora had to admit, her arrogant friend had emboldened her. With a fortifying breath, she stepped to the edge of the cliff and extended her hand near Ailan’s until it plunged into nothingness. She paused, releasing her breath in a trembling exhale.

Then she stepped off the cliff…

And stepped onto colorless earth. The Blight was blindingly bright after the dim light of dawn, invading her senses with shades of gray. The only color was the cloud-speckled blue sky overhead.

Valorre stood before her, tossing his mane. Despite his earlier confidence, he radiated relief at seeing her hale and whole on this side of the Veil. Cora stepped out of the way to give room to her companions. The Veil was nothing more than a wall of swirling particles of pale mist. Even though it looked like something soft and insubstantial, she knew firsthand that it would feel as firm as a wall should she try to touch it. Aside from the tear, she supposed.

A hand shot through the mist, quickly followed by a body. Mareleau planted both feet before the Veil, her eyes squeezed tight, her arms wrapped protectively around Noah in his sling.

Cora put a hand on her shoulder. “You’re all right, Mare. You made it.”

Mareleau forced her eyes open and stumbled toward Cora. “That was terrifying.”

A second later, Ailan followed, emerging from the mist with far more grace. But as her eyes darted across the landscape, her expression crumpled. Her hand flung to her lips, and she widened her stance as if to keep steady. “This is so much worse than I expected.”

All around them was parched soil and the gnarled stumps of long-dead trees. There was no sign of the jewel-toned forests, groves, and meadows Cora had seen on her way to the Blight the first time she’d come here.

Tears glazed Ailan’s eyes as she turned back toward the Veil. Extending a hand, she pressed her palm to the swirling particles. Cora watched with rapt attention. Did she know of a way to call the mora back? She had claimed to be regent over fae magic until Noah came of age.

With a frustrated groan, Ailan dropped her hand, her fingers curling into a fist. “The mora can be called back to the land, but the tear is too thin. It’s like pulling it through the finest sieve. The effort to complete such a task…I don’t even want to estimate how long it would take.”

A shadow fell over them, bringing with it the beat of wings. A gust of wind sent gray soil swirling about as Uziel landed. Cora, Mareleau, and Valorre backed away as the dragon nuzzled Ailan’s shoulder. It was similar enough to how Valorre comforted Cora that she could almost find it cute.

Almost.

Ailan’s posture relaxed. She turned her gaze to Cora. “Does your magic work here?”

Cora nodded. She’d escaped El’Ara with her abilities before. Her magic hadn’t been hampered by the Blight, nor had Fanon’s or Etrix’s. Fanon had still been able to use his invisible restraints while Etrix’s translation weaving had remained. Only Garot seemed unable to weave in the Blight. The only thing that had held Cora back had been the collar she’d been burdened with.

Her skin crawled, remembering its tines piercing her neck, the empty void where her magic had been. She resisted the urge to tuck her hand in her cloak pocket, where the collar remained hidden. She hated carrying it on her person, bringing it to the very place where it had been used against her. But she couldn’t have left it in the wagon. Not if she wanted to avoid leaving evidence behind.

“Will you use it?” Ailan said, stepping away from Uziel. “Will you take us somewhere beyond the Blight? Somewhere a pathweaver can reach us quickly?”

Cora’s stomach turned. “Are you sure? My magic is hated here. Fanon will be enraged?—”

“I don’t care.” Her voice was so tired. So empty. “I don’t want to look at this dying land a second longer than I must. If anyone tries to condemn you for doing what I asked of you, they can take it up with me.”

Cora gave a reluctant nod. “I’ll try. Gather around me and Valorre.”

At a word from Ailan, Uziel launched into the sky. Ailan and Mareleau followed Cora’s directions, crowding in close. “We need to make physical contact, and I need to be touching Valorre. Do not break contact, even if I move.”

She pressed a palm to Valorre’s hide, then clasped Mareleau’s palm with her free hand. Ailan settled her hand on Cora’s shoulder. Closing her eyes, Cora focused on each point of contact in turn, then envisioned the meadow she and Valorre had traveled to. The image came to mind easily, courtesy of Valorre’s clear memory. She shifted her stance, felt the dry earth beneath her shoes, and imagined the plush grass of the meadow. Instead of rot filling her senses, she imagined crisp air and fresh greenery. After acknowledging her companions once more—Mareleau’s hand in hers, Noah’s sleeping presence in his sling, Ailan’s palm on her shoulder, then Valorre’s warm hide—she took a small step forward.

She smelled the change of air before she opened her eyes. Heard hollow silence turn to birdsong. As she blinked into warm sunlight, she found the green meadow all around, her companions beside her. They stepped apart and a wave of dizziness washed over her, reminding her of the toll worldwalking with others took on her.

Then they waited.

But it didn’t take long.

A swirling vortex of green and brown warped the air at the edge of the meadow until it was as wide as a doorway. Three familiar figures strode through it, one with dark hair, one with copper tresses, and one with honeyed locks and sharp blue eyes. Etrix, Garot, and Fanon. The vortex disappeared as soon as all three were outside it.

Fanon’s lips peeled back from his teeth, his eyes widening as they landed on Cora.

Ailan stepped forward, arms spread, commanding the attention of the Elvyn males.

The three pulled up short.

Fanon’s chest heaved as if he’d been struck by an invisible blow. He staggered back, but his legs gave out beneath him. He sank to his knees. “Ailan.”

With a slow and careful stride, she approached Fanon, then softly laid a hand on his shoulder. “Hello, Fanon dear,” she said, voice quavering. “It’s been a long time.”