They were not doors when seen through her familiar’s wings. The flowers, carved or created to retain a semblance of wood, weren’t wooden, and the vines, against which a patina of woodgrain had been laid—and remained—weren’t, either. They moved. Kaylin reached out, wordless, for the Consort’s nearest arm and pulled her in close, looping an arm around her shoulder. “Hope,” she snapped.

I know. Do not let the Consort leave this sphere.

“This what?”

Squawk. It was the frustrated, shut-up-now squawk.

“Hope wants you to stay right where you are,” Kaylin told the Consort.

“And the rest of us?” Teela demanded.

“He didn’t say anything about you three. You can stand closer to me if you want to be safe.”

Serralyn immediately joined Kaylin, taking up position on the side the Consort didn’t occupy. When the familiar had first protected Kaylin from magic, she could see a shield rise, like a bubble around both her and Bellusdeo. She could see nothing now, not even through the wing. But she understood that whatever protection he thought to provide was centered around her.

Beyond holding tight to the Consort, who might have preferred more personal dignity, she focused on other concerns. The emblems carved into the door—the emblems that strongly resembled the braiding Azoria had so meticulously done with Mrs. Erickson’s hair—unwound, unspooling. They didn’t magically vanish; they shot out, some to the doorframe, as if it served as an anchor, and the rest directly toward the building’s Avatar.

They passed through the Avatar, extending and thinning as they traveled—at speed—down the empty hall. Terrano chose to stand his ground; Kaylin could see his back. Teela chose to step away, hand on the hilt of a sword that Kaylin hadn’t seen when they’d arrived.

Kaylin exhaled only when the strands, now thin and almost invisible to the winged eye, failed to grab or pierce Terrano.

You are not safe yet, Hope said.

The tendrils passed Terrano, disappearing as they dissipated.

“Do not move,” the Avatar said. “I am almost finished, but things are more complicated—more layered—than anticipated. This was not my intent, when I first created the doors and the rooms that lay beyond them.”

“Do you think they were meant to be a trap?”

“No, Chosen. I believe they were meant to contain something.”

“Not the room?”

“Elements of the room. Had these rooms been available for use, I believe they would, in the end, have caused damage to their occupants.”

“Did they cause damage to her?”

“No, but she was the primary architect of the spell. She would have made exceptions for herself, and for whatever it is she hoped to become.”

The word become echoed in the hall.

“You think she wanted to be like me?” Terrano asked, drifting toward the Avatar. The Avatar didn’t warn him off or send him away.