"Rise and shine." Rob's low voice drew me up through the final kaleidoscope gates back into the material.

  For a second, I lay there, allowing myself to once again acclimate to the weight of my body, the rough edge of fabric against my skin, and the temperature I preferred to set before I went under. As usual, Rob was prepared for my returning rituals with proper lighting set and a low voice, gently guiding me home.

  When everything stabilized, I could open and close my eyes without any disorientation, and finally, I could turn my head to peer up at him in the dim lighting.

  Bent over me, his face was cast in shadow. I only felt the gentle pressure of his palm on my forehead as he took my temperature. Then he eased back, allowing a thin bar of light from the blinds to cross his face. There were lines of worry there. How long had he been waiting for me to rise?

  Well, this was a special trip, I reminded myself. This was going to be THE ONE. And in a way, the spirits hadn't lied. I had found someone after all. Two someones. Siraj and Max. Siraj Nazari and Maximo Arbelaez. Those were the names I had gotten from Elder Uri, one of the Light Elves at the Bureau of Guidance.

  "How long was I out?" I asked weakly.

  "Too long," Rob replied gruffly. "Two days."

  "Not bad. I got a lot done."

  "How long were you there for?"

  "A few days. Almost a week, I think. You know how it is there, with time."

  "Hm." Tension bled a little from Rob's frame, but I could tell he was still worried. No doubt he had questions.

  I closed my eyes, paused for a second, and then told him: "I didn't find him. No sign."

  "Damn it…" he muttered under his breath.

  "I found others. There was… a whisper. I followed it. This is the path. I know it now. This will guide me to Geoffrey."

  "Others?" Rob tensed again.

  "Two men," I said. "From the modern era. Souls called to battle in the Other Side."

  "Poor bastards," he chuckled. "I suppose you took pity on them and helped break them in."

  "Something like that." My weak laughter joined his. "They are capable in their own right. That is why they were called. Fate brought us together. I could feel it. This is the way."

  "I'll have to trust you on that, I suppose."

  Trust wasn't our forte—Rob and me. Although I didn't know much about Rob's past, I had a feeling that he understood what it was like to be let down. We had both been disappointed in the past… Betrayed, even. We knew that people made mistakes. People disappeared.

  Even harder to trust is someone's account about a world most people couldn't naturally see. Especially when remembering that world was difficult, and most memories shared about it were fabricated by liars and pretenders. Few people could achieve a full-fledged, immersive experience in the Other Side. Even to this day, with the accepted existence of psychonauts and the long-historied lineages that attempted to enhance those abilities, there were groups who believed that people like me were simply crazy or pretending for notoriety's sake. Absolute nonsense, of course.

  And Rob was like me—a person of no particular faith who had stumbled into a world he could barely comprehend. He had to trust me when I said I felt things or knew things, even when I shouldn't. Time had taught me much, though. I was starting to believe… something. Rob maybe would too. One day.

  "Where are we now?" I pried myself into an upright position.

  "Neo-Albion," he said quietly. "In the north over the Lake Country. Where-"

  "I know."

  I didn't want to go and look. Battling down anger, I rose and went anyways.

  Neo-Albion was an island that had once played a major role in the Old World's politics. These days, large portions of it now lay underwater, but some areas remained. Lakes and increasing coastlines rose up around it—a besieged piece of land holding up the last remnants of an older world. There were derelict castles, ancient decrepit homes, and broken down cottages. Rob had chosen a part of the country where the rolling hills gleamed greenest under the pale spring sky as the first flowers burst into bloom.

  I descended the Kenshou's ramp and drew in a breath of fresh Terran air. Unlike the artificially created and recycled air of space ships, Terran air was filled with pungent scents that threatened to overwhelm anyone who had traveled too long in space. There was the hint of dampness, a disgusting odor of compost, and that odd scent that I always linked to organic grass. Reaching down, I brushed the green blades softly. Beneath my palm, the vertical lines shifted and swayed, revealing only barely the hidden fractals that lived inside every material thing.

  This blade of grass, too, in the right time and place, was connected to the Other Side. We are all connected, I mused. Here, in the greenest places, we are even more connected than ever.

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  It was why Rob had brought me here. The memories here could empower me. My rage and fear. And also the bittersweet memories of a happier time when we were all children, racing down to the boat docks and the tiny sandy beaches. We held picnics here on the edges of the sapphire blue lakes, surrounded by emerald hills. It had been a beautiful time, but beneath the surface, as always, there had been patterns.

  I hadn't seen it back then. I had only been a child, but now I could see it. The angry glances between my parents. Geoffrey always mediating. And other family members dropping by to say hello, to stare at my siblings and me… We were the future of the Dryburgh family. We were the Gifted.

  Fuck them. They never saw us as children—or as people. Simply as pawns. I gritted my teeth and stood back up to survey the quiet countryside.

  Not many people remained on Old Albion. Only those few who sought a life offering tourist-related services to the wealthy who returned. It really was the perfect place for me to hide out. As long as I was able to keep the ship anonymous and keep my personal transponder off, my parents would not be able to find me easily. A sound behind me drew my attention. Rob was waiting patiently. Right. Breakfast. Joining him, we sat and ate together.

  "Any movement?" I asked him, obliquely referencing my parents.

  Rob shook his head and said, "I've been tracking your parents. So far, they are staying put on Centauri One. But some communications suggest they made contact with the Other Side. They may try to find you that way."

  I shivered. Of course they would try that. Dammit.

  "But we'll be ready," Rob assured me. "You and I have prepared for this."

  "I'll need to go under again," I told him quietly, hoping he'd understand. "I can't let those greenhorns face the Mist on their own."

  "The Mist."

  "A Shadow has arisen on the Other Side."

  "I thought you said shadows always existed there."

  "Yes. But this time… it's… deepening. There's always that kind of cycle. That's when souls are called to fight the good fight, as it were," I said bitterly. "And there's a bunch of them this time. I've got a bad feeling."

  "Great." Rob folded his arms and glared at his plate.

  "I'll be fine," I reassured him. "It's the guys I'm worried about: Siraj Nazari and Maximo Arbelaez. I need you to do some search. Try as early as 2000 and work your way up."

  "Got it." Rob sighed. "I'm guessing you're going under soon?"

  "Sooner than I'd like," I said, staring out the window at the green rolling hills and wishing I was a kid running up and down them with my brothers and sisters. "I'm going to miss this place."

  "It'll be here when you wake up," he said.

  A promise to himself as much as to me.

  When I flew into the Other Side, I shifted instantly to the mound instead of landing in the city of Merigor. Merigor didn't hold what I needed. The Plains, however, did. As I swirled in, I could sense it—a looming darkness and a watchful feeling. The mound was surrounded. There were unseen eyes in the mist. Not all of them were Dark Elves either. Something powerful was out there. A Lord of Shadow was my guess. Some souls called them Overlords since they represented upper echelons of Dark Elves.

  Have anyone told Siraj and Max? I wondered nervously as I glanced around. The air was filled with tension as people raced from one end of the mound to the other. Some carried bows and arrows. Others hefted staves and magic staffs. Warriors sharpened their axes and swords. Men and women, called to battle, ringed the edges, facing outward. In the middle of a knot of cussing British sailors and soldiers, I found Siraj and Max preparing for battle with grim looks on their faces.

  "Kaci," Siraj said. His gold eyes flashed a little relief at the sight of me. "You returned."

  "As promised," I said, planting my staff firmly into the grass. "Tell me what is happening."

  "An overlord creature man thing." Max was restless, but also smiled at me in greeting. A good sign. I hoped. "We don't know really, but it's bad."

  "Called Mammon," add Siraj.

  Damn it, I internally swore.

  "Alright," I said. "Well. We have this."

  "You don't sound too confident," Max grumbled.

  "Well, at least I'm here," I said. "If we go down, we go down together."

  "Or let's not go down at all," Siraj said, tightly.

  "And we have all of these people," Max added brightly.

  "Cannon fodder," Siraj muttered under his breath.

  "Hm." I winced at his bluntness.

  Nevertheless, I was inclined to agree with Siraj. Many of these people had prepared to fight Dark Elves—the Mothman as Siraj had called them. But an army of Dark Elves was different, and if a Lord of Shadow led them, things were about to get much worse. Still, I could help in my own way. My magicks were powerful, and my healing would keep Siraj and Max on their feet.

  "How bad can this be?" joked Max.

  "That's the spirit," I chuckled and slapped him on the arm. "At least you'll die with a smile on your face, Max."