Alec looked at Seregil, who managed a smile, though Alec could tell that it cost him. “Do you feel up to it, Alec, with your wounds?”

Alec flexed his arms. “I can certainly swing a sword if I need to.” He slung the Radly over his shoulder and walked down to join them.

“Wait a moment,” said Thero. “Does anyone have any food?”

“Are you hungry, Master Thero?” asked Mika. “I can go get something from camp.”

“Not for me, Mika. For Alec to take with him.”

Micum produced two small turnips from a pocket and tossed them to Alec.

“Good,” said Thero. “I’m curious as to whether it will be edible on the other side, given your experience with the river and fire.”

Alec tucked the turnips away and took a deep breath. “All right then.”

Drawing his sword, he walked slowly to the wall, bracing for some sort of shock of transition, though he hadn’t felt anything unusual before. By the time he reached the wall he was holding his breath, but nothing happened. Sand gritted under his boots as he touched the wall beside the hole Thero had made.

Nothing happened.

He turned back to the others. “I don’t understand. This is where it happened.”

Thero walked down to join him. “Interesting. So it’s not a permanent bridge.”

“You mean I just happened to be in the right place at the right time?”

“So it would seem.”

Alec touched the wall again, surprisingly disappointed, then looked back at Seregil, Micum, and—“Where’s Mika?”

“He’s right here,” said Micum, pointing down the other corridor to his left. Then he frowned. “Or he was. Mika, lad, where are you?”

The others joined him, but there was no sign of the boy.

Seregil and Micum took off at a run, calling Mika’s name.

“Oh, no,” Alec gasped, putting aside his bow and quiver and hurrying back up the corridor with Thero.

“No no no no …” Thero dug into his pocket, coming up with a bit of linen with what looked like blood on it. “Please, Lightbearer, no …” Clutching it, he whispered a brief spell, then staggered, catching himself with one hand against the wall. “I—I can’t see him, Alec. He’s gone.”

“Gone like I was gone?”

Thero nodded, pale and horrified. “Yes, I think so.”

Alec reached the juncture where the others had disappeared and sucked in a startled breath. Just down the corridor Seregil had taken, the passageway was gone—or rather, it appeared to open onto a dun-colored landscape beyond. In the distance he saw a flock of sheep. The edges of the portal—if that’s what it was—were hazy, and rippled like gauzy curtains in a breeze, blending stone wall with dull sky and grass.

The wizard ran up behind him. “What is it? Did Seregil find him?”

“Thero, don’t you see that?”