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C ora thought she might retch if she was forced to endure the swirling colors of the tunnel much longer. Green, blue, gold, and brown, along with the occasional brighter hue, whirled before her in a horizontal vortex as far as she could see. It looked as if the landscape and sky had warped and spun to form this strange passage. The sensation it created was like riding through the forest at a breakneck pace but significantly more disorienting. While the ground felt smooth and steady beneath her feet, she almost lost her balance several times. With her arms pinned to her sides, she couldn’t use them for stability. Instead, the only thing keeping her from falling was the invisible tug that forced her to follow in Fanon’s wake.

Cora was about to send a volley of curses at the Elvyn male’s back, demanding he slow down or free her from this nauseating place, when the tunnel ceased spinning. The greens and browns spread out like a wave from her feet while the blues and golds formed the sky overhead. They were in a dense forest, the mossy floor the brightest shade of emerald. The tree trunks were thicker than any Cora had seen, their branches towering high overhead. Some held clusters of glowing pink or white mushrooms that were nearly as large as she was, while unfamiliar birdsong filled the air. Tiny insects with jeweled wings flitted in clusters here and there, but none came close enough for Cora to get a good look. Were they pixies? She would have been enchanted by the stunning environment were it not for the current situation. The pain of the collar piercing her neck. The void she felt without her magic.

Fanon rushed on ahead, giving Cora and Valorre no time to adjust to the sudden change of terrain. His magical tether tugged them along, and now Cora had plenty of obstacles to avoid tripping over.

“Fanon,” Etrix called, still beside her. “Release the human and unicorn. Let them proceed at their own pace.”

“If the Veil is torn, we don’t have time to dally,” Fanon said.

Yet, despite his words, Cora felt that tug disappear. Though her arms were still pinned, she no longer felt as if she were being dragged. She paused to regain her equilibrium, but she managed only a single breath of relief before the tug returned. She was forced to step forward. This time the pressure disappeared as soon as she began walking on her own. Fanon’s unspoken threat was clear: stop walking and he’d resort to dragging her again.

That made any chance of running away impossible. Besides, where would she go? She needed to get back home. Find the Forest People. Return to Ridine. Save Teryn from Morkai. To do any of that, she needed to astral travel. Needed her magic back. Needed to free her arms and get this damn collar off her neck.

She glanced at Etrix, careful not to angle her head too far to the side. Any drastic motion sent a renewed sting of pain where the collar dug into her flesh. At least she felt no trickle of warm blood, which told her the wounds weren’t too deep. The Elvyn met her gaze with a tense smile. Whether he kept close to her out of care or caution, she wasn’t sure. All she knew was that, so far, he was the only one of the three who’d shown her an ounce of concern. Perhaps he’d help her. First, she needed to better understand her situation.

“What is the Veil?” she asked.

He narrowed his eyes. “You confessed that you entered through the Veil. If that’s the case, how do you not know what it is?”

Her mind raced, but she found her answer easily. Keeping secrets and telling lies to cover them was as familiar to her as her own skin. “I know I came through the Veil, but I don’t understand what exactly it is.”

“You’re asking about the Veil?” Cora was startled to find Garot suddenly between her and Valorre. Before now, he’d been walking behind them.

“Garot,” Etrix said with the same warning tone he’d used on Fanon.

Garot shrugged. “What? She’s clearly not dangerous.”

“We’ve yet to establish?—”

“The Veil is like a curtain between your world and ours,” Garot said, a smile stretching over his round face. His tone had taken on a whimsical quality, like a bard telling a tale.

That explanation did very little to clarify anything for Cora, but it sounded like a way back to her world. If she couldn’t use her magic, then perhaps she and Valorre could escape through the Veil?—

Wait. Would Valorre even want to return with her? Her eyes flicked to him, trotting on the other side of Garot. This was his true home. The place he’d come from.

I stay with you , Valorre conveyed in that same clipped style of communication as before. She wondered if it was his magic or the translation enchantment that allowed their connection to remain. It didn’t seem like he could speak to the three Elvyn, and they hadn’t bothered to address him when they’d inquired about him having come from her world. Once again, her connection with Valorre defied reason. Well, all but one.

The witches amongst the Forest People had kept pets now and then, and some had even claimed an animal as their familiar. She’d always scoffed at the claim. To her, it was another unimpressive quiet magic she hadn’t put much value in. But she valued quiet magic now. Very much so.

Which made her wonder…was Valorre her familiar?

You are my home, he said, and she didn’t need her magic to glean his conviction. This is no more home. Sorry I brought us .

Her heart warmed and broke all at once. Are you in danger here? Is that why you left?

Don’t remember .

“I’m sorry I couldn’t take us any farther by Path,” Garot said, stealing her attention. “My mora is weaker once the Blight begins, which is why we’re proceeding by foot.”

Several words stuck out to her. By Path. The Blight . But one lingered in her awareness. No, it was…two. When he’d said mora , she’d heard two words at once: mora and magic . His mouth had formed an O to suggest the former had been in his language and the latter had been the translation. That was the first time she’d heard two words simultaneously. Did that mean…she sort of knew the word in its native tongue?

Insigmora.

Morkai.

Morkaius .

All those words contained mor or mora in some form, and they’d all come from the fae language, as far as she knew. She recalled that Morkai meant King of Magic and Morkaius meant High King of Magic . She’d never been told there was any translation for insigmora , but now she understood what part of it meant. Of course her tattoos were named for magic.

Now for her remaining questions. “What did you mean by Path ? Was that the tunnel we walked through?”

Garot puffed out his chest with a proud nod. “I’m a pathweaver. I can navigate vast distances in a short time by weaving a portal.”

Her next question was on the tip of her tongue. She hesitated before speaking, ensuring her tone came out as nonchalant as she could manage. Anxiety still crawled up her throat while grief at losing her magic weighed heavy on her shoulders, but the hope of returning home once she reached this Veil helped her keep her composure. Or at least pretend to. “If I’m unable to return home through the Veil, could you take me by Path?—”

“No,” Garot said, his grin disappearing. He glanced at Fanon, still leading their party from far up ahead, and lowered his voice. “Traversing worlds is something only a worldwalker can do. And worldwalking is a repulsive, invasive magic.”

Damn it. She supposed there was no point appealing to his carefree nature in hopes that he might offer her aid. Still, she appreciated that he was at least answering her questions. “What is the Blight ?”

“Did you not see it when you entered?” Etrix said from her other side. Though she’d first deemed him the kindest of the three, she was starting to realize he was the keenest too. “If you entered through the Veil, you would have seen it.”

“I was asleep on Valorre’s back,” she rushed to say. “I didn’t realize what had happened until I’d woken up and found us in the meadow. That was when Valorre told me he’d accidentally taken me home by crossing the Veil.”

He studied her for several beats too long.

“You’ll see the Blight for yourself soon enough,” Garot said, pointing a finger straight ahead. “We’re almost there.”

Cora followed his line of sight to where the forest was beginning to thin. Thick tree trunks gave way to slim saplings, then disappeared into a gray fog. Where she stood now, a blue sky shone above the towering canopy of leaves, the sun comfortably warm, but at the edge of the woods, it almost looked like winter lay ahead. As they drew closer, Cora grew more unsettled. The saplings weren’t simply small. They were frail. Decaying. And the forest didn’t end in a fog; it lost color. Vibrancy. Life.

They emerged from the line of trees and stepped onto a gray path. From here on, there was no more mossy earth or glowing mushrooms. No more birdsong. No insects or pixies. The sky and golden sun were the only sources of color, and they did nothing to brighten the rotting landscape that stretched as far as Cora could see. The smell of rot filled her nostrils, making her wish her arms were free of their invisible restraints, if only to allow her to cover her nose and mouth.

She glanced at Garot. “This is the Blight?”

He gave her a somber nod. “It stretches all around the Veil and spreads farther into El’Ara daily.”

A dark shadow passed overhead, blotting out the sun and casting them in momentary darkness. She froze, turning her eyes to the sky. An enormous beast with a long, sinuous body and a wide expanse of wings flew above them. It let out an ear-splitting screech that had Cora’s shoulders shooting toward her ears. That, in turn, shifted her collar, causing its sharp tines to tear at her pierced flesh. She forced her shoulders to relax, eyes locked on the flying beast. In a matter of seconds it was far ahead, leaving Cora trembling with awed terror.

Mother Goddess, that was a…a dragon.

Don’t like those , Valorre said. I remember that .

Did they create this? The Blight? Based on the faerytales Cora had grown up with, she knew dragons could wield flame. That could explain why the land was suddenly devoid of color. Perhaps it had been burned.

Don’t think so , Valorre said. But don’t remember .

Cora cast her gaze back to the path ahead and found Fanon striding on with his hurried pace as if the dragon were no concern. Garot trailed behind him, his steps somewhat less buoyant than before. Only Etrix remained at her side, watching the tiny speck that was the dragon until it was gone entirely.

“I thought perhaps she would come for the unicorn,” he said.

“She?”

“Ferrah. The dragon. She’s been seen chasing unicorns, especially any wandering through the Blight.”

“Why?”

“We aren’t certain. The dragons have been restless for months.”

Do not like , Valorre said.

Etrix gestured for her and Valorre to proceed. Before she had to suffer one of Fanon’s irritating tugs, she started walking again. She kept her eyes on the sky for several moments, worried the dragon might come back. She had no desire to find out what the creatures did to the unicorns they chased. When she saw no sign of its return, she dropped her gaze to the gray landscape. A wash of color and movement caught her eye.

Half hidden behind a patch of gnarled stumps was a cluster of humanoid figures. They crouched on the ground, palms pressed flat to the colorless earth. They were petite in stature with pointed ears, their skin in every shade of brown and tan, their hair and clothing in the richest earth tones. One was a male with long hair as black as midnight and a tunic of woven moss. Another had hair and eyes in shades of rich green, her leather dress adorned with sparkling beads of morning dew. The nearest figure, a male with hair made from autumn-colored leaves, lifted wide gray eyes to watch them pass. That was when Cora glimpsed the black patterns marking his arms and neck. In fact, all the figures bore such markings on every inch of skin not hidden by clothing. The symbols were more intricate than her own tattoos, but she recognized the insigmora .

“Faeryn,” Cora said.

“They try to heal the Blight,” Etrix said, “but their use of mora does little to help. They merely manage to slow the Blight’s inevitable course.”

“What is the Blight from?”

“The Veil,” Etrix said and nothing more. She almost wished Garot was nearby again, for maybe he’d have given a more substantial answer.

She couldn’t take her eyes off the Faeryn as they walked by. Unlike the Elvyn, whom she knew little about, she’d heard so much about the Faeryn from the Forest People. The commune’s very way of life was dedicated to preserving the Faeryn’s ancient ways, their traditions, their harmony with nature. In a way, these figures were like family to her. Not by blood, of course, but an unseen bond.

A sudden spark of hope ignited in her chest. Perhaps if she ran to them, showed them her insigmora , and implored them for help, they’d free her from her captors. But as each turned to watch her pass, she caught the ice in their collective gaze, the curl of their lips as they studied her human form. It was enough to tell her they thought no better of her than Fanon did, regardless of the markings on her arms.

She cursed under her breath. It was clear she’d find no allies here, in this realm where humans were feared. Hated. She couldn’t fully rely on her own knowledge of the fae either, for the stories the Forest People had told were obviously wrong. The fae weren’t extinct. The Elvyn and Faeryn hadn’t killed each other in a war five hundred years ago. They were here . Alive. Just in another realm.

She could only rely on herself and Valorre, and their primary hope was to get to the Veil and pray to the Mother Goddess there really was a way to cross through.

Only then could she get back home and find some way to save Teryn—and her world—from Morkai.