Dead. All of them. Gaunt, lopsided, black, and crumbling as energy continues to be sucked out of them toward a shimmer that hangs like a curtain a few centimeters above the ground. It might’ve been a mirage were it not for the flickers of blue flame licking at its edges.

“A portal,” Katya says as another gust of wind flings more snow at our feet.

Even as we watch, the shimmer grows smaller, its edges folding inward as a nearby tree collapses.

“It’s closing. We have to hurry.” Tentatively, I press a hand into the shimmer and feel the biting cold of the liminal world beyond. Again, my body starts to tingle, then my arm disappears.

“This is it.” I gesture for the others to follow me.

Aysha takes my hand, then Katya’s and, together, we step between worlds.

29

At least we end up somewhere recognizable.

“Are those—are those eyes?” Katya shivers as she stares at the ghoulish decorations dangling from the trees.

“Yip.” I shudder and tug my beanie down over my ears. Snow continues to tumble out of the sky in big, sticky chunks. Birch trees moan in the wind, their leafless branches a thick tapestry above our heads. “It means we’re in the right place.” I flip up the hood of my jacket and start wading through the knee-high drifts.

“We should close the portal,” Aysha says. “Otherwise, there might not be any forest when we get back.”

“Can you do it?”

“I can try.”

“But if we close it, we’ll have no way to get home.” Katya zips her jacket up to her chin.

All those metal spikes make it look like she’s wearing armor. I wish I was.

“Well, we absolutely cannot leave it open and using up all the magic like that. We’ll have to figure out another way back.” Aysha starts to hum, holding her hands out in front of her a hairbreadth from the shimmer.

With her right hand, she draws the air rune nauthiz, using the more destructive side of the symbol to close the portal. It works. After a few more seconds the shimmer snaps shut with a sound like ripping Velcro, disappearing in a flutter of blue flame.

Aysha rests her hands on her knees, breathing hard. Sweat peppers her forehead and soaks the hair around her face.

“I’ll be fine,” she says before I can ask. “Just need a minute.”

Two minutes and forty-two seconds later, we continue on our journey.

“What do you think happened to MacCrone?” Katya asks.

I’ve been asking myself the same question and don’t much like the answers storming through my mind.

“Doesn’t matter,” I say. “Nothing we can do now except try to find the others. The trail leads this way.”