Chapter Thirteen

Griffin’s eyes widened. “She spoke to you?”

My breath quickened in excitement. “Not in words. But the message came across loud and clear. The Rose Stone knows what we’re searching for and will lead us in the right direction.”

Griffin peered at the sky. “Little daylight remains and it’s too dangerous to explore the hills in the dark. We’ll leave at first light.” He ordered Bram and Abril to go with him to prepare.

They hurried away, but I lagged behind to walk with Danya. “It’s fortunate for us you returned,” she said. “The Rose Stone speaks to you more clearly than anyone.”

“Actually, I think she spoke to your drum. I got the impression they’re old friends.”

Danya chuckled. “You may be right. Drummers forged a special connection to the Rose Stone from the beginning. She selected the first drummers and taught us healing and how to walk the mystic trails. Through them, she sounded the alarms and warned of breaches. You are bound with her, though, on an entirely different level.” She narrowed her eyes at me. “I sense a change.”

“The Rose Stone drew me into the facets again,” I said. “The poison knot shrunk. I hope that’s good news but can’t be sure. It may be wishful thinking.”

She patted my arm. “Wishful thinking is my favorite kind.”

When we arrived at the farmhouse, Danya excused herself, explaining she also needed to prepare for travel and check her supply of medicinal herbs. Griffin, Abril, and Bram were busy, and I didn’t wish to disturb them. Everyone had a purpose except me, so I took my sketchbook and went outside. I sat on a fence rail and surveyed the surroundings.

Soft wind tousled my hair, and a smile played on my lips. My early drawing of the farm had been made with a childish hand and was woefully incomplete. I didn’t have the interesting details then.

I turned to a clean sheet of paper determined to start from scratch and capture the rustic beauty. I put the house, the yard, a barn, and the fields in the background. I positioned Griffin in the foreground on Cirrus. I was next to him on Alta. Behind us were Abril and Bram, and the warbirds soared overhead. The pencil practically flew over the page. Wrapped in the joy of capturing the peaceful tranquility, I had no pain or shaking and forgot about the tumor, the treatments, and even the threat of the darkling. Through grit and hard work, Griffin’s ancestors had created a special place. I understood how the call to the guard tore Griffin and Abril away but also understood how Paxton would never be content anywhere else.

At the thought of Paxton, I smiled and drew him between rows of vegetables, leaning on a rake, surveying his own little kingdom with pride. He didn’t appear the least bit threatening.

“You have a deft hand.”

I nearly dropped the sketchbook. Paxton had come up silently behind me and peered with interest over my shoulder.

“Sorry,” he said gruffly. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“That’s okay. I’m glad you approve.”

“It’s fine work. You are an artist?”

“Back in my world—yes.”

“Your world?”

“Didn’t Griffin tell you how I came here?”

“We don’t speak much,” he grunted, and his gaze went to the sketchbook again. “You put me in a picture.”

“Well, you’re part of this story now.” I slid off the fence. “Do you want to hear mine?”

He nodded. “I would.”

I laughed. “You’re not much of a talker, Paxton.”

I caught the hint of a smile, and he shrugged. “When I have something to say, I say it and be done.” He wiped his brow. “A warm day. We can sit in the shade with a cool drink.”

“That sounds lovely.” His eyes widened as I slipped my arm around his, pleased he didn’t pull away.

We strolled to the front porch. I settled in a rocker, and Paxton went into the house and returned with two mugs and an earthenware jug from which he poured a reddish liquid. “Cider from fruit in the orchards. It’s the first press,” he added. “That’s the finest.”

I took a sip. The cider was tangy and refreshing, with a mixture of apple, pear, and cranberry flavors. “Delicious. I could drink this every day.”

“Would do you good. It’s known to strengthen the blood, and you’re a mite peaked.”

I chuckled. “Ah, not a man to hold back his words. I appreciate your honesty, Paxton, but I looked worse not too long ago.” I took another sip and told my story. He leaned forward in his chair, the mug of cider forgotten in his hands, hanging on every word. “So, here I am,” I said at the end. “On your doorstep, drinking the best cider I have ever had in my life, and enjoying the beauty of this place.”

He frowned. “A journey to the hills is a hard ride over rough country, especially for someone ill. The trails aren’t safe. Griffin shouldn’t allow you to go.”

“Griffin has no choice, as I won’t be left behind. Besides, I’m the one linked to the Rose Stone. I’ll have you know you’re not the most stubborn person here,” I said with a grin. “I have a reputation for thick-headedness as well. I made a promise to help the Commonwealth, and I’m going to keep it.” I placed my hand on his. “I have every faith in your son to help me.”

Paxton gazed at the fields. “He has always gone his own way, too, no matter what I say.”

“Isn’t that for the best? Do you really want him here when Chancellor Emlyn, the Commonwealth, and the Rose Stone need him more?”

Paxton gave me a searching look. “Do you need him, too?”

A flush crawled up my neck. “Well, yes. That is to say, we’re in this together…” I broke off as the door opened.

Griffin glanced at our hands resting together, and a faint smile twitched his lips. “The foreman wants to speak with you, Father. He’s in the barn.” Paxton nodded at me and then hurried away.

Griffin’s eyes sparkled in amusement. “You charmed him.”

“Like father, like son.”

“Charming the son was easy,” he said. “But if you’ve made such a mark on Paxton, perhaps it is merely the hallucination asserting itself and you need another dose of Danya’s healing tea.”

I chuckled. “I’ll take my chances.”

Griffin helped me to my feet. “In the morning, Abril, Bram, and I will ride ahead and scout the area. If it’s safe, I’ll send for you.”

“No, I’m coming, too. The medicine is working, but once it quits, I won’t be much good to anyone.”

“You are to me.” We kissed again, and his touch lit an ember inside me. My breath quickened, and the ember burst into a flame. Such delightfully pleasant heat. We held each other tight. With Griffin in my arms, I’d never be cold again.

“I can’t promise safety,” he said softly. “I fear for this world, but most of all, I fear for you.”

“No one can promise safety. If I were at home, I could walk across the street and get hit by a bus.”

“A bus?”

“Never mind.” I laughed softly. “I’m happy here and now. That’s what matters most.”

From around the back of the house came a shout from Bram for Griffin. “Duty calls,” said Griffin with a sigh. He kissed me again and left, but the warm glow in my heart remained.

I spent the rest of the day adding more sketches to the tablet—the mad race from the wind surge, High Point Garrison, Danya’s garden, the ruins in the hills, the Rose Stone’s tower, the barge journey upriver. Racer and Sojourn returned at dusk to report on the trail and advised we should be able to ride the lyrs far into the hills before having to dismount. After dinner, Paxton offered to show us old land surveys from his father’s time. The others pored over them, discussing possible routes while I stood back and watched. Was it my imagination or were the exchanges between Paxton and his son less frosty? I hoped so.

****

Abril’s rap on the door woke me before dawn. I threw on my clothes, slinging the Rose Stone’s sack across my shoulders. The heat radiating against me was warmer than usual. It seemed she was eager to get underway, too.

I hurried downstairs, the drawing tablet under my arm. The others had finished eating and went to saddle the lyrs, so I sat at the table alone. By the time I went outside, they were tightening the last cinches. Racer and Sojourn perched on a nearby fence rail. With eyes on the horizon, they stretched out their wings, as if testing the strength of the breeze.

Paxton stood on the porch, silently watching. “Thank you for your hospitality,” I said.

“You are always welcome here.” He stepped into the yard and hugged Abril goodbye. “Be careful.”

She kissed his cheek. “I will, Grandfather.”

I slipped the sketchbook into the saddlebag and then grabbed Alta’s pommel. Griffin, who had been making adjustments to Cirrus’ pack, moved to assist me, but Paxton rushed forward and cupped his hands as a boost. “You be careful, too,” he said gruffly.

I smiled at him. “I promise. See you soon.”

Griffin swung onto Cirrus, shoulders stiff as if anticipating a parting argument. Paxton shot him a glance. “Safe journey,” he muttered, so low I barely made out the words.

The tenseness drained from Griffin. “Thank you, Father.”

Abril urged her lyr forward and winked at me as she trotted away. The first rays of the sun peeked over the horizon as the four of us headed down the lane. The warbirds launched into the air. I looked over my shoulder. Paxton stood on the porch, watching us, and I waved goodbye. He raised his hand and then we turned a corner, and he was hidden by rows of grain.

Racer and Sojourn circled high overhead, two black dots against the rising sun. Once past the fields, we came to a narrow path toward the hills that forced us to ride single file. The woods closed in on both sides. Leafy branches blocked the sky, and I lost sight of the warbirds. The ground was so thick with brush it hardly qualified as a path, but the steady thrum from the Rose Stone prodded me ahead.

Although the narrowness of the route slowed the lyrs to a trot, they continued to press forward with surefooted confidence. We reached the base of the hills, and the route took a sharp incline. Jumbled piles of boulders and loose soil dotted the ground, and occasionally, we had to circumvent jagged cracks. Something had once violently torn this land apart. I warily eyed the broken slabs looming overhead, and a nervous knot formed in my stomach. Massive explosions had blasted chunks from the hillsides, canting them toward us at unnatural angles. Periodically, a shower of gravel and pebbles skittered down the slope, and the knot tightened. The rocks above seemed so delicately balanced the slightest breeze would send them tumbling.

The path split. East, the Rose Stone commanded, and we pressed on. As the sun rose high in the sky, the warbirds warned of more landslide debris ahead. A winding turn brought us to a towering ridge that blocked the route, but a narrow rift in the center tunneled into the rockface. It was barely wide enough for one lyr and rider to pass. No wonder the warbirds had a tough time spotting passage from the air.

The clop, clop, clop of the lyrs’ hooves eerily echoed down the tunnel. When we reached the end, Griffin whistled. Seconds later, Racer and Sojourn descended, pulling up at the last second for graceful landings on the pommels.

Racer stretched his wings. High walls of sliding rock. The track is gone.

The Rose Stone thrummed against me. “We keep going,” I said. “But to where?”

The warbirds took to the air again to circle overhead. There was no obvious passage, merely boulders mixed with piles of sand and pebbles that shifted with the slightest touch. We dismounted, and I took the Rose Stone from the bag. She made a subtle movement toward a cleft blocked by scrubby brush.

Griffin pulled his sword and hacked at the greenery to reveal an opening in the rock. “It’s too narrow for lyrs, but wide enough for us to pass single file. I’ll go first.” He squeezed through, and I went next with Bram, Danya, and Abril right behind me. My shoulders had barely a few inches clearance on either side, and it was a snug fit for Griffin ahead of me. Our bodies blocked much of the sunlight, and I fought a wave of claustrophobia. The rocks here were gray, but strangely smooth, and I suddenly realized we were between slabs of concrete. Twisted bits of rusted metal rebar stuck out above our heads. This wasn’t a recess in the cliff, but the remains of a wall.

Griffin edged his way out the other side and gave me his hand. I stumbled into an area shielded by another ridge. It had a weird shape, high and very narrow, with parts made up of more broken concrete slabs. He shaded his eyes and peered overhead. “There’s the boundary. We can’t go farther.” I followed his gaze and caught the barest hint of a glimmer peeking from behind the tops of the crests.

Racer circled overhead with a jubilant screech. The rose!

I caught his meaning and gave a gleeful cry. “He’s right. The shape of this area caused the same pinched contour lines in my picture. The location of the rose on the map must be nearby.”

Griffin looked around. “There is nothing here of interest, simply more of the same.”

The Rose Stone’s persistent tug continued, but sheer walls penned us in. “She wants to keep going, but I don’t see a way.” My words echoed with a hollow reverberation that bounced between the rocks and faded away.

“We can try to climb over the top,” said Griffin. “Perhaps a better passage exists on the other side.” He touched the rockface, and his face lit with excitement. “Fresh air is blowing through the cracks. Move the debris.”

As I bent over to lift a rock, a stab of pain sliced through my head, and I staggered. Griffin’s hand shot out to steady me. “Jess?”

“I’m fine.”

“You are not,” he said gently. “We should rest.”

“You mean, I should rest.” I shook my head, regretting the maneuver instantly, as another piercing stab burrowed behind my eyes. “The medication is wearing off, but I’m okay. It’s only a headache, no muscle weakness yet.”

“Jess—”

“Don’t. I need to keep going as long as I can.”

Griffin pressed his lips together and continued to dig with Bram and Abril. The sandy dirt shifted easily. Soon, they unearthed an old, battered door on rusty hinges and the breeze strengthened.

Danya placed her hand on the surface. “This goes into one of the old places destroyed in the Great War.”

Sunlight glinted off a shiny object on the ground. I picked up a smooth gray globule, a chunk of glass shattered and warped by high heat. Touching it gave me a funny sinking feeling. I dropped it immediately and rubbed my fingers against my jacket.

The door had several huge cracks running from top to bottom. Griffin put a shoulder against it, and with one good shove, the door split apart. He peered inside and wrinkled his nose. “The air is musty, but breathable. I can’t see far, but the opening appears to lead straight into the hillside.”

A beam of light shot through the top of the bag. I removed the Rose Stone and held her in front to illuminate the entrance. “Better than a flashlight,” I said and took a step forward. Griffin held me back.

“Wait. I’ll call the warbirds.” He closed his eyes. A few seconds later, they dove from above. Racer perched on his shoulder, and Sojourn alit on Bram.

Griffin stayed at my side. The others followed close behind. Instead of a rocky path, smooth concrete lay beneath our feet. Soft footfalls stirred years of dust. No one had been here for a very long time.

Danya began to drum a slow, measured rhythm that collided with the walls and then ricocheted along the passageway ahead of us. “The drum speaks but nothing answers,” she said.

“Other dangers?” asked Griffin.

“None the drum can sense.”

Racer gave a soft chirrup. No life remains.

“Stay alert.” Griffin pulled his sword. Bram and Abril did the same.

The path took a twisty turn, and the light from the opening vanished. The single illumination was the soft glow of the Rose Stone, a steady beacon to guide our way. The corridor reached another and branched. Bram and Abril used their daggers to scratch symbols on the walls to mark the route. Guided by the unwavering Rose Stone, we passed a multitude of passageways. This place was a maze. It didn’t take long for me to be hopelessly lost, but the Rose Stone led without hesitation.

Cracks and pockmarks marred the floors. Slabs of concrete ripped from the walls lay in crumbled piles, scorch marks burned into the surfaces. The destruction wasn’t the result of structural weaknesses caused by the passage of time, but something more sinister.

“Soldiers fought a battle here,” whispered Bram. “Hand to hand, close quarters.”

Abril shuddered. “A place like this would not be their choice, too difficult to defend. The enemy must have swarmed and pushed them back.”

“No bodies,” muttered Griffin. “What happened? Where did they go?”

I feared we’d find out. We did.

The corridor ended at an opening, and Danya’s drumming quickened. “Death touched here,” she said in a hushed tone. “Not recently, but the memory lingers.”

I stopped and held the Rose Stone in front of me. Her light flared, spilling into a cavern—no, not a cavern, but a massive bay. The warbirds launched to scout ahead. Tangles of metal bits littered the ground and something more. Ahead of us, an airplane wingtip jutted from a jumbled pile of sticks and rocks, and everywhere the ground was discolored with sooty scorch marks. We moved forward, and I froze in horror. Those weren’t sticks and rocks, but human bones. Hundreds of them, thousands of them, everywhere I looked. A shudder ran through me at the thought of how many perished here.

“Their last stand,” said Griffin, his tone as dark as the great bay. “They must have known the battle was hopeless, yet here they stayed and fell, perhaps to give their comrades a chance of escape.”

The Rose Stone shifted ahead. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding,” I moaned and eyed Griffin in despair. “She wants us to enter.”

“Then we shall,” said Griffin. “The dead have no power over the living.”

Trust a soldier to state the obvious. I pulled myself together and took a cautious step forward, grimacing as my boot came down on something crunchy. I didn’t look and kept my focus straight ahead. We slowly advanced across the bay. Griffin stayed at my side, his presence easing fears of monsters prowling in the half-light.

No one spoke. The only sounds that broke the silence were the tap-tap-tap from Danya’s drum, the crunching of the occasional “something” underfoot, and the unnerving creaks and groans from shifting metal supports overhead. My heart skipped a beat each time, and I shot jittery glances at the ceiling. The ancient rafters supported tons of weight, an entire hilltop over our heads. If they collapsed now, we’d end up with the rest of the dead in the bay, lost and forgotten, our bones mixed with theirs.

The lack of light made it impossible to see the other side, but the unfaltering Rose Stone continued to gently nudge me in the same direction. The warbirds returned, so did a dull cramp in my legs. I stepped on an uneven surface, and my foot slipped.

Griffin grabbed my arm. “Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m fine.” My legs shook, and I sagged against him.

“Jess—”

“There’s no point in telling me to stop and rest.” I straightened. “I refuse to sit on a pile of bones, and we have to keep going.”

At last, we reached the other side and found a staircase. The Rose Stone shifted in my hand, exerting slight pressure toward the ground. “You would,” I said with a sigh and warily eyed the entrance. “She wants to descend.”

Griffin paused and turned back to survey the wreckage. “Come, then, and let us leave them in peace.” He saluted the dead with his sword, paying homage to the fallen comrades’ bravery. Bram and Abril did the same.

The staircase wasn’t any darker than the bay, but the psychological impact of descending under the bowels of the burial chamber made my heart thump hard against my ribs.

Racer craned his neck. Fresh air.

“Father, I feel air coming from below,” said Abril.

“So do I,” said Bram, excitement rising in his voice. “There must be another exit.”

At the bottom of the steps were the remains of a huge metal door. It lay in shattered pieces, raked by long claw marks. Fear fired a round of adrenaline through my veins. The door had been ripped apart by carvers.

Beyond the opening was a room littered with smashed electrical equipment. Charring from multiple fires and explosions stained the walls. Etched into the floor were two burn marks the shape of human bodies. My heart skipped another beat as I gingerly stepped around them.

In the center of the room, three steps led up to a circular platform holding a large silver rectangle made from two upright metal posts about nine feet high and a horizontal bar spanning the approximate six feet between them. There were no seams, as if it had been forged in a single piece. Age weighed heavily on the mounds of wreckage in the room, but the silver rectangle was glossy and without a scratch. Not even a speck of dust marred the perfectly smooth surface.

“Strange,” I murmured, moving closer for a better look. “It’s so shiny I should be able to see a reflected image of the room, but I don’t.”

“What is this place?” asked Griffin. “I’ve never seen the like.”

“It’s a laboratory, but I have no idea what they did here. Not much is left intact, and nothing looks familiar.” My headache pounded, and I rubbed my brow, willing the pain to go away. It didn’t.

Griffin motioned toward a far wall where a smaller door hung lopsided off a broken hinge. “The breeze comes from there.”

Bram and Abril sheathed their swords and forced it open. “There’s another stairway, and I see sunlight,” said Abril.

The Rose Stone shifted in the opposite direction. “Hang on,” I said. “She doesn’t want to leave yet.” The movement of the Rose Stone led to the platform with the strange rectangle. I put my foot on the first step and her color brightened. “She wants me on top.”

“To what end?” asked Griffin.

“I’ve no idea.”

“Curious,” murmured Danya. “The outline reminds me of a breach. They are of similar size and shape.”

I climbed up to the rectangle and then turned to survey the room from the new vantage point. A pattern emerged. “The machines below are clustered together and facing the same direction. They must have been workstations, but I don’t get it. This thing is perfectly smooth, no dials or readouts, nothing that hints it’s more than a hunk of metal. Were they watching something up here or the rectangle itself?”

“That’s the one undamaged object in the room,” said Bram. “The metal must be very strong.”

“Weird,” I murmured. “There’s no reflection of me, either.” I placed my hand on the surface and then jerked back in surprise. “It’s warm. That makes no sense. This place is dead.”

The others hurried to climb the steps. Griffin touched the rectangle and gave a puzzled look. “I feel no heat.”

“Nor do I,” said Abril, placing her hand next to his.

“The true meaning may be meant for the bearer of the Rose Stone,” said Danya. She closed her eyes, tapping lightly on the surface of the rectangle. “The Rose Stone and metal whisper to each other, but not in a language I understand. Perhaps, Jess, together we can determine the truth.”

“I’m game,” I said. “What do we do?”

“I will drum, and the Rose Stone will guide.” Danya’s fingers lightly brushed the drumhead and began a steady tap-tap-tap. First slow and then the beat increased.

I surrendered to the hypnotic rhythm, body swaying in response. The heat from the Rose Stone filtered up my arm. I held her to my eyes and peered inside. “I’m here. Show me.” My hands shook so hard I nearly dropped her.

As if in response, the gentle warmth from the Rose Stone flooded my body and eased the tremor. A pulsing thrum issued from the rectangle, matched perfectly to the drum’s tempo, and I shivered as goosebumps danced up my arm. Energy lapped at my skin with the same mysterious ebb and flow as when I traveled between worlds.

“Do you feel anything, Jess?” asked Griffin.

“Yes, but I’m not sure how to describe it. A change, shifting movement, almost like a river…” The underlying reality hit me in a flash. “This isn’t simply a piece of metal. It’s a doorway.”

“Where does it lead?” asked Griffin.

Danya stopped drumming and peered at the rectangle. “The old tales of the ancestors mentioned seekers of knowledge who opened portals to other worlds. They quested far and wide, perhaps too far.”

Abril gasped. “They found the world of the darkling.”

“No,” I said with a frown. “I sense the connection between the Rose Stone and the darkling is deeper than that.” I touched the rectangle again, and this time it was cold instead of warm. A frigid shard raced to my chest and threatened to freeze the breath in my lungs. Flashes of indecipherable numbers and symbols winked in and out. They made a pattern, birthed a purpose. Not life as we defined it, but something else…the full horror of the truth struck me. I gasped and stumbled back into Griffin’s arms. “I understand why the Rose Stone brought us here. The darkling is an AI, artificial intelligence.”

“What’s that?” asked Griffin.

I struggled to explain. “It’s a kind of machine that thinks and acts on its own—a spark of mechanical life. These people didn’t find the darkling on another world, they created it here.”

“The darkling came from our ancestors?” His voice was a shocked whisper. “How can that be?”

I sighed. “They didn’t understand what they set loose. Mistakes happen to the smartest, even in my world. People blunder ahead without considering the consequences of their actions.”

“All this death…” Abril’s voice shook. “They nearly destroyed us and for what?”

“I don’t know, but they didn’t plan for this to happen and probably started with good intentions.”

“They must have found a way to force the darkling through the portal,” murmured Danya. She touched the rectangle and then jerked back her hand. “Even from here, its hate comes through. The darkling is watching from the other side, testing our defenses, searching for a way to bring us to our knees and take this world again.”

“The darkling and the Rose Stone are connected,” I said. “The flow of poison decreased, but the link between them remains. The way to sever it must be in the darkling’s world. That’s why the Rose Stone led me here.”

Bram cast a woeful glance at the shattered workstations. “But how? If this is a portal, the machines to open it require a spark. Even with such, the skill to repair them no longer exists.”

A thought occurred to me, and I peered at the Rose Stone. Can we do this? The facets gleamed with inner light, imbuing me with confidence. “I shut a breach with her help. Maybe I can open a portal.”

Griffin gave a terse nod. “We are with you.”

I drew a deep breath. The Rose Stone glowed, bathing the surface of the metal with light. I held her in front of my eyes and cleared my mind. “Open,” I whispered.

My fingertips tingled, not with muscle weakness but a concentration of energy. It beat against the rectangle trying to get inside, but the flow struck a barrier as if a door had been shut tight. If so, I was certain I held the key. I shifted the Rose Stone to one hand and laid the other flat against the surface. The tingle swelled to a fiery surge as power cascaded into me from the Rose Stone, building in intensity with no way out unless it found an escape. I wasn’t frightened. I knew exactly where it should go.

“Open.” This time it was a command and not a request.

Blinding light coursed from my hand, flowing into the metal until three were one—the stone, the portal, and me. Images of numbers, letters, and symbols flooded my mind. I didn’t understand the code’s meaning, but it didn’t matter. I sensed the proper path, and all it needed to open was a tiny thrust of force here and a bit more power there. Mist formed in the center of the rectangle. The surface shimmered and became transparent. Dim light spilled from the other side through sickly yellow murk. There was no green expanse, no blue sky, merely obscuring haze. The energy pouring from my hands halted.

“We won’t be able to mark a trail through that,” said Bram. “I can’t see more than a few feet ahead.”

Danya tapped on her drum, the vibrations continued to channel through the Rose Stone. “My drum speaks to the stone and she to Jess. Together, they will guide you home.”

I shot her a nervous glance. “We’re not exactly at the boundary and this isn’t exactly a breach, but what if it causes a wind surge?”

“The Rose Stone will protect us.” She spoke with utter confidence, but I wasn’t so sure.

“Racer, Sojourn, fly through that other door to the surface,” said Griffin. “Find a path for the lyrs to reach the top of the stairway. Guide them there so we needn’t travel through this compound again.” The warbirds launched, and he turned to us. “We must move quickly before the darkling discovers an opening exists to our world. Stay close.”

I held the Rose Stone in front of me, and one by one, we crossed to the other side.