He walked forward alone, taking his time, the magic of the black staff fully awake now, coursing up and down its length and into his body. He was prepared to use it if he was attacked, but he couldn’t find anything that suggested this might happen. The Belloruusian Arch and the ground about it were empty of movement or sound or life of any sort. He studied the space beneath the arch where Phryne had disappeared, but he couldn’t see anything of where she might have gone.

When he was very close, he called up the magic and gave the space directly ahead of him a spray of its bright light. For just an instant, something flickered in response—a sliver of darkness, a splitting of the air that was little more than a vertical shimmer. It was there and then gone again in an instant. Pan blinked in response to its quick, momentary appearance, not certain what it was he had seen.

Slowly, he moved toward it.

XAC WEN WAS STANDING close enough to Prue Liss that he heard her gasp when Panterra Qu walked up to the exact same spot where Phryne had vanished two days earlier and disappeared himself. The boy couldn’t quite believe it, having decided any danger was past and all they were doing at this point was searching for some indication of whether the Princess had come back out again. After all, he had walked beneath the arch, right where the two who had vanished had walked, and nothing had happened to him. So there was no reason to think that anything would happen to either of his companions.

But now something had, and the boy was stunned.

Prue Liss never hesitated. She charged toward the arch the minute Pan disappeared, shouting his name, her voice frantic. Xac chased after her, afraid now for both of them. But when they reached the arch and stood exactly where Panterra had disappeared, nothing happened. The girl felt the air with her hands, waved them as she might to find a spiderweb and clear it away.

“Where is he?” she screamed.

Xac Wen had no answer to offer.

Chapter Nineteen

-Who brought you here, girl-

Phryne did not recognize the voice, but she was able to track its source immediately. It was another shade, an old woman far different in appearance from Mistral. This shade glowed with a malevolent green fire that pulsed at the center of her transparent form with wicked purpose. Bent and withered, her face crumpled like discarded paper, she had a fierce presence as she stood atop the short, flat surface of the pinnacle of a strange triangular stone into which had been carved the letters P, R, and G.

-Mistral Belloruus does not rule here. She does not decide who comes and who goes. I do-

Phryne glanced at her grandmother for support, but Mistral was pressed against the stone of the marker, her face turned away.