Panic registered first. Where were my arms, my legs? Why couldn’t I see? Wait, I could see—just—but everything was washed in vivid purple, and the green of the grass was too bright for my eyes. A spasm racked my flimsy limbs. It was like brain plague, but so much worse. I was crushed, suffocated, screaming with no lips or voice. And what were these things stuck on either side of me? I tried to move, and they gave a shudder, as if I was in my death throes.

Before I knew it, I’d thrown myself out of the butterfly and back into my body. I was shaking all over, gasping for air. I slid down off the rock and hit the ground on all fours.

“Paige?”

I retched. A vile, acidic taste filled my mouth, but nothing came out. “N-never doing that again,” I said.

“What happened?”

“Nothing. It was—it was so easy, b-but then—” I unzipped my jacket, my chest heaving. “I can’t do it.”

Warden was silent. He watched as I dabbed the sweat from my brow, trying not to hyperventilate. “You did do it,” he said. “Even though it was painful, you did it. Its wings moved.”

“I felt like I was dying when I did that.”

“But you did it.”

I leaned against the rock. “How long did I last?”

“Perhaps half a minute.”

Better than I expected, but still pitiful. Jaxon would have cracked a rib laughing. “Sorry to disappoint you,” I said. “Maybe I’m not as good as other dreamwalkers.”

His face was hard. “Yes,” he said, “you are. But if you do not believe it, you will not achieve your full potential.”

He opened his hand, and the butterfly flew off into the dark. Still alive. I hadn’t killed it.

“You’re angry,” I said.

“No.”

“Then why do you look like that?”

“Like what?” His eyes were cold.

“Nothing,” I said.

He picked up a bundle of dry wood that had been propped against the boulder. I watched as he struck two rocks together, lighting a small fire, using the wood as kindling. I turned away. Let him simmer. I wasn’t there to puppeteer the fauna.

“We will rest here for a few hours.” Warden didn’t look at me. “You need sleep before the next part of your test.”

“Does that mean I passed this half?”

“Of course you passed. You possessed the butterfly. That was all I asked of you.” He watched the flames. “No more.”

He opened a knapsack and spread out a simple black sleeping bag. “Here,” he said. “There is something I must do. You will be safe here for a while.”

“Are you going back to the city?”

“Yes.”