Alexis reached into the pocket of her apron and pulled out a key. Or at least, Cora thought it was a key; it didn’t seem like it could be anything else, given the way it fit into the curve of Alexis’s fingers. She’d just never seen a key crafted from living lightning before. It bucked and struggled against Alexis’s grasp, trying to break free and ground itself.

Alexis stepped forward and slid the key into the empty air, closing her eyes. Jack put her hands over Alexis’s, stepping closer, so the two girls were pressed together, holding each another steady, holding each other up.

“We’re sure,” said Jack, and together, they turned the key.

The room flashed white with lightning. It poured from the light fixture, cascading over Jack and Alexis before slamming, again and again, into the already-blackened floor. Alexis’s unbound hair stood on end. Jack’s hair, confined by a tidy braid, was more restrained, but Cora realized she could hear something under the pounding of the lightning.

Laughter.

Jack was laughing, high and bright and utterly delighted. It was the laughter of a child waking on Christmas morning to find a pony tethered to the bannister; it was the laughter of a monster rising from the primordial ooze to devour the world. Cora wasn’t sure which of those two thoughts frightened her more, and it was almost a relief that the lightning already had the hairs on her arms and the back of her neck standing on end, so she didn’t have to blame it on the laughter.

Thunder rolled through the room, loud enough to vibrate the shelves, and the lightning stopped. The key remained, now protruding from the brass keyhole of an old oak door. Jack grasped the handle.

“All right,” she said. “Let’s go home.”

PART  II

THE MOORS

7 THE ROLES WE CHOOSE OURSELVES

THE OAK DOOR opened on a rolling hillside that stretched on for the better part of forever. Crimson moonlight painted every curve and corner, draping it like a shroud. Knee-high grass covered the landscape, peppered with patches of flowers, thorn brakes, and stunted, twisting trees.

Alexis was the first through the door, followed by Sumi, then Kade, Christopher, and Cora, with Jack bringing up the rear. For a moment the door remained open, showing a narrow slice of Christopher’s basement bedroom. Then it swung closed, vanishing in the same instant, so that there was nothing but the Moors.

None of them noticed. Jack was too busy closing her eyes and breathing deeply; Alexis was too busy tucking the lightning key back into her apron. As for the others, they’d never been to this particular world before, and they were too busy staring.