His hands latched onto its shifting form, the mist-like substance buzzing under his grip like static electricity given shape. It wasn’t solid, but it was just solid enough, the creature whining in confusion as Henry yanked himself up, using its momentum to springboard higher.

  Above him, Elara hovered upside down, watching with wide eyes, her expression torn between awe and sheer delight.

  “Oh-ho-ho-ho, this is the dumbest thing I’ve ever seen.” She twirled Edward in her hands like she was judging Olympic gymnastics. “Are you just gonna climb a staircase of screaming horrors? Is that what’s happening right now? Because I am so here for it.”

  “Less commentary, more helping!” Henry grunted, hauling himself onto the next summoned creature.

  “Oh no, no, no, I’m a spectator now. This is top-tier entertainment. I’d pay actual gold to see this from the front row.”

  Henry barely caught himself as another creature flickered in and out of existence, its form unstable from his own exhaustion. He had to keep moving. He vaulted to the next, his heart hammering, his fingers burning from the sheer force of his grip. The creatures whined beneath him, their spectral bodies shifting uneasily, but they held.

  Elara zipped up beside him, resting her chin on her hands as she hovered completely upside down. “You know, if you fall, you’re definitely gonna die.”

  Henry glared at her, beads of sweat rolling down his face. “I am very aware.”

  She sighed dramatically. “Good, good. I just think it’s important to acknowledge that. Closure and all that. If you plummet into the depths of Tim’s soupy corpse, I wanna know your last words. What’ll they be, hmm? Something profound? A little poetic moment? I personally think—”

  Henry lunged to the next creature, barely catching himself. “If you don’t shut up, my last words will be 'I should have thrown Elara into the void instead'.”

  Elara gasped, clutching her chest in mock horror. “You wouldn’t!”

  Henry jumped again, teeth gritted as the creatures shuddered beneath his weight. “Watch me.”

  Elara smirked. “You say that, but I think you like me.”

  Henry didn’t answer. Mostly because he was too busy sprinting up a living nightmare made of teeth and mist, but also because he refused to give her the satisfaction.

  The next maw screeched, flickering wildly beneath his grip. Henry grunted, pushing off as hard as he could, flinging himself higher and higher, each jump more frantic than the last. He was so close now.

  The walls of the massive creature convulsed, the entire structure of the beast twitching violently in its death throes. Below him, the cavernous maw shrieked, collapsing inward, as the last remnants of Tim’s existence crumbled into mist. The entire chamber shook, as if the beast itself was imploding from its own demise.

  Henry hurled himself toward the final maw, his hands barely catching onto its spiraling form before he threw himself forward, reaching for the final ledge. His arms burned, his muscles screamed, but he dug his fingers into the wet, pulsing ledge—

  And with one last agonizing pull, he hauled himself out of the collapsing throat of the beast.

  He tumbled forward, rolling onto solid ground, hitting damp, uneven stone with a force that nearly knocked the wind from his lungs. The sheer relief of touching actual rock after being inside a nightmare stomach nearly made him want to kiss the floor.

  For a long moment, he just lay there, panting, staring up at the mist-covered sky, his entire body buzzing from adrenaline.

  Elara, who had been floating the whole time like an unbothered gremlin, gently landed on his chest and grinned down at him.

  “Well. That was disgusting.”

  Henry let out a wheezy, exhausted laugh. “You think?”

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  The Wand, still clenched in his grip, let out a long, miserable groan.

  “I am never eating again.”

  Elara patted Henry’s cheek with both hands, beaming. “You did it, Henrikins! You climbed your way out of a giant nightmare corpse! I mean, sure, you’re covered in more unknown fluids than a sewer rat at this point, but hey—victory!”

  Henry groaned. “I hate everything.”

  The Wand let out a feeble whimper. “I would like to retire. I no longer wish to be a Wand. I have seen things today that should not be seen. I have eaten things that should not be eaten.”

  Elara snickered and twirled Edward like a baton. “Aww, c’mon, where’s the fun in that? You’re part of history now! Who else can say they overate so badly they exploded a goddamn nightmare flesh-dimension?”

  The Wand groaned louder. “I am begging you both to leave me in a drawer somewhere and never use me again.”

  Henry ignored it. His thoughts were elsewhere.

  The battle was over, but he had just consumed something monstrous—and judging by the unnatural hum still pulsing beneath his skin, he had a very bad feeling that Tim wasn’t entirely gone.

  Elara tilted her head, watching Henry closely, her eyes gleaming with something unreadable. “You okay, champ?”

  Henry pushed himself up, exhaling slowly, deliberately, as if forcing himself to stay grounded. “Ask me when I’m not marinating in monster guts.”

  Elara clapped her hands together with way too much enthusiasm. “Ooh! Spa day?”

  Henry groaned, rubbing his temples. This was going to be a long day.

  Elara, now zipping around him in lazy circles, twirled midair, her grin sharp as ever. “I bet you’re wondering how much more useless filler we have to get through before you save your sister. Well, when I’m around, the answer is always yes!”

  Henry shot her a look, but before he could open his mouth, the air shifted.

  A feeling like drowning in slow-motion slithered up his spine, his stomach twisting as a pulse of wrongness coiled in his chest. The stench of iron hit him first—thick, wet, and fresh. The faint whisper of arcane energy crackled through the air, coiling over his skin like a thousand tiny needles.

  Elara stopped midair. Her wings, usually buzzing with restless energy, stilled completely.

  They had walked straight into a ritual. Henry barely had time to process the altar before the sound of screaming nearly sent him to his knees. Sarah’s voice. His head snapped up, and his blood turned to ice.

  She lay sprawled across the altar, her small body pinned down by cruel, jagged bindings. Her chest had been carved open, her ribs barely visible beneath the deep, ritualistic incisions, her exposed flesh glowing faintly, as if something unnatural was being siphoned into her.

  A network of archaic tubing snaked around her body, thick, grotesque things pulsing like veins removed from a corpse. The tubes led to twisted metal constructs, ancient medical devices that looked like they had been stolen from a mad scientist’s nightmare.

  Magic flowed through them in steady pulses, pumping something into her, something that made her body convulse and spasm, her mouth parting in another raw, bloodcurdling scream.

  She was alive, for what that was worth. But for how long?

  Henry’s vision blurred at the edges, his breath caught somewhere between a gasp and a snarl. His body moved before his brain did, his boots pounding against the stone as he ran forward.

  He reached for the Hat of Purification, yanking it from his own head and, with careful, trembling hands, placed it over Sarah’s sweat-matted hair.

  “Sarah, it’s gonna be okay.” His voice shook, but he forced himself to be steady. He couldn’t afford to fall apart. Not now. Not here.

  He pressed his hand over the brim of the hat, willing every ounce of magic he had left into it, channeling mist energy with everything he had.

  Please work. Please work. Please work.

  Elara landed beside him, her usual manic energy dimmed, her hands hovering uncertainly over Sarah’s trembling form. “Okay. Wow. That is… so much blood. Henry, I don’t want to be a downer here, but I think she’s, uh, missing some pretty important internal things—”

  “Not helping, Elara!”

  “Just saying! This is like, three bad surgeries and a sacrificial lamb away from full necromancy! Do I need to start playing spooky organ music? Because I will.”

  Henry gritted his teeth, his focus unwavering as he pushed more magic into the hat, praying it would keep her alive.

  The ritual magic fought back, the foreign energy trying to reject his interference, but Henry refused to let go.

  Sarah’s eyes fluttered weakly, her mouth opening—no words, just a sound, a choked whimper of pain that nearly destroyed him.

  His grip tightened on the hat.

  “You’re gonna be okay.” His voice was firm now, certain. He had to believe it. “We’re gonna figure this out.”

  With a final violent shudder, the ritual reacted.

  The room exploded with light, a blinding, searing brilliance that swallowed everything in golden mist. The force slammed into Henry, knocking him off his feet. His ears rang, his vision blurred, and for a terrifying moment, the world became nothing but soundless white.

  When Henry’s vision cleared, his stomach dropped into a pit of ice.