The waterfalls didn’t disappear further from the portal to the hidden realm, but they were further apart. By the time they had gone half a kilometer into the forest the falling water was only noticeable by the soft tinkling sounds drifting on the wind.

  Forest was perhaps a misnomer. Annette trailed her finger across the bark of the behemoth of a tree she was leaning against. The oddity had snuck up on them. It was John, the one who spent most of his time at sea or in a city, that noticed the anomaly. The trees of a natural forest grew according to the random whims of nature. In contrast, the forests of the hidden realm were a labyrinth. Wide shaded lanes were open between some of the trees, in a twisting maze of unnaturally clear paths. The shade-dappled golden light made it reminiscent of a walk in a well-manicured park. Attempting to leave the paths was a different story. Light distorted between the branches, roots appeared out of nowhere to trip them and the feeling of being watched was nearly overwhelming. The two attempts they’d made to investigate convinced her to stay on the paths for now.

  It didn’t matter, the mana currents she could feel just walking along the paths were inspiring enough on their own. The flows around Verilia were a series of controlled rivers. They were powerful but predictable, after Laurel’s work with the Core. Anchoring them with natural treasures made things even more stable. The hidden realm was the opposite. Like the waterfalls scattered about, the flows seemed to start and stop from nowhere. They twisted and stretched in ways her spiritual sense couldn’t fully comprehend.

  George had looked nauseous since they entered the forest but Annette loved it. She could feel herself getting closer to something with each day in the hidden realm. The meditations were frustrating, but they worked. Cycling the mana here prodded her towards the spatial affinity she was so desperately seeking. It was long, boring work, but every evening when she ached from sitting still for so long she just pictured Laurel’s tattoo and the unstoppable economic force they would be as a sect if she could make magical storage devices.

  Her mind was spiraling further into fantasies so it was time to stop for the morning.

  She stood and stretched her back. Hopping up and down while she swung her arms to get herself limbered up, she saw her brother and George lounging a dozen meters away, working on their own projects and grunting back and forth.

  George noticed her approach first, the man’s sense enhancement was uncanny. Their first morning out from the city she’d seen him scare off a snake neither John nor her had realized was sitting in the road.

  “Did you figure out what’s so weird with the paths?”

  “I think so. If I’m right, they link up in certain places. If you walk through the right spot you'll end up somewhere else in the maze. Maybe. Something to do with the interrupted mana flows that are obviously still flowing.”

  Her brother grunted while making a carving of another four winged bird species they’d spied in the treetops.

  “I think we should keep going though, see more of the effects.”

  “You’re the boss,” George said, looking relieved. According to Laurel, not wanting to vomit around spatial effects made her compatible with the aspect. She could only hope, for the sake of the rest of the initiates, that the tests for other affinities were gentler.

  They made it out of the Maze Forest, as Annette insisted they name it, just after lunch. They had only been in the hidden realm for a few days, but the dried rations were already getting old. The Maze had ended suddenly, just a line where the smooth barked trees gave out to a small lagoon, on the shores of a body of crystal clear water. They could see straight through to the white sands at the bottom. Schools of fish, each with an extra pair of fins, swam leisurely throughout. Mist rose off the water a few dozen meters out, growing thicker until it obscured their view of how far it went. From the kid’s experience and her own observations Annette suspected if they tried wading out or swimming, they would find themselves redirected towards the shore. She would not be testing it.

  She was pulled out of her sightseeing by a gentle nudge from George.

  “Look there,” he whispered.

  Annette followed his pointed arm but couldn’t see anything. “What is it?”

  George cursed in Laskarian. “I don’t know the word in Meristan, but there’s ripples in the sky.”

  This time she saw it. In patches a few handspans wide, ripples floated through the air in a loose formation. The distortions didn’t block light, but the wave-like effect was hard to look at for too long. The flock wheeled around and one of the ripples dropped into the water. Annette watched in fascination. It was easier to see under the water. Somehow. It approached the fish slowly. In a flash, the ripple changed shape and half of a fish disappeared. The tail sank to the sand beneath the lagoon, trailing blood in its wake. The ripple dove after it and a few seconds later, it was gone.

  “We’re not camping here,” John said.

  “Yup.”

  “Agreed.”

  They crept around the lagoon and into the, thankfully, normal forest on the other side. Another hour went by in silence, each of them looking back over their shoulders every few moments, scanning the air for any sort of distortion.

  “How are you going to carve that one John?”

  Annette appreciated George’s attempt to make a joke and smiled at him. It was brittle and forced but she held it. There was nothing they could do about it now, better to move on.

  “Maybe we should name them,” she said in an attempt to keep the banter going.

  “Flappers? Or Skimmers maybe, for how they were flying?” George tried.

  “Ripplebirds?” Annette tossed out.

  “Riftmaws.”

  They walked in silence for a few moments.

  “Stars above, John. We want them to be less terrifying.”

  Her brother just shrugged. “Mine sounds cooler.”

  They bickered for a few minutes while they walked. By the time the environment changed again Annette felt almost back to normal after the close encounter. Whether or not that was her brother’s plan all along was a question for after they learned to navigate the new region of rolling hills. The ever-present streams were now at the bottom of treacherous canyons and ravines, some only a handbreadth apart, others wide enough to slip and fall into. After carefully jumping over some of the smaller gaps they came to a wide section without any precarious drops, with the closest stream easily reachable.

  “We’ll stop here for the night.”

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  The boys made noises of agreement and got to setting up their little camp. Annette dropped her pack and surreptitiously rubbed her shoulders. Laurel’s insistence on strength and endurance training had paid off, but that made hauling everything she needed for a couple of weeks on her back possible, not comfortable. The evening passed quietly. Annette had brought some books on spatial magic Adam had translated. When he found the time, Annette wasn’t sure, but he had handed her the gift without being able to make eye contact, just before he set off on his own adventure. George was doing his bullet infusing and was dead to the world. After a while John paused in his relentless carving to come sit by her for a while.

  “I’ve been all over the world, Annie, but this is a whole new kind of dangerous.”

  She could tell he was holding something back, looking away from her and picking nervously at the grass. “Just say it, and don’t call me Annie.”

  “I guess I’m just worried. Your life is all about magic “transliminal spaces” and the like. It feels so far away. I’m your big brother, but how am I supposed to protect you from floating sky ripples? How am I supposed to help out if you need advice on space magic? This is your life now, but how do me and our parents fit into it?”

  “John…”. Annette didn’t know what to say. Her family would always be her family. She supposed up to this point it had felt like embracing magic was just like switching from a shop clerk to a noble’s secretary, an advantageous career move like a few others she’d made. It hadn’t crossed her mind that her family would be this worried, or think she was abandoning them.

  “I know it’s your life Annie, I just want to be a part of it.”

  “You are! You must know that? You and Mama and Dad, you’ll always be a part of my life. Stars, did Mama tell you she had to knock some sense into me when I was complaining a while back? I’ll always need my big brother around.”

  “Yeah, I guess.” As much as the response was lackluster, Annette could spot her brother’s hidden smile.

  “You should come to the sect house for dinner one day. Our cook is amazing.”

  “I’ll take you up on that Annie.”

  “Don’t call me Annie. I have magic powers now you know, you should listen to me.”

  They bickered for a while longer, enjoying their rare time together.

  *********

  George, he was slightly surprised to find, liked the Radas. Annette was smarter than most people he knew and excited about pushing her magic. The woman was still a little scary when she cracked the whip at the sect, but he could respect leadership that wasn’t based on physical violence. John was more enigmatic, but the man had a sense of humor hidden under the stoicism, along with an impressive way of reading people. Not to mention, an appreciation for silence. George had been sociable when he was young, but years in the Magehunters twisted his first instincts in meeting new people to cautious apprehension, and he could only really be social for a few hours a day without getting exhausted. Annette’s taciturn older brother seemed to get it.

  There wasn’t too much time for reflection, however. The ravine-riddled area they were traversing was more treacherous than the forest. The angles and just slightly different heights of the smooth sections made the cracks nearly invisible. If they weren’t focused it would be easy to trip and fall, the consequences of which would range from embarrassing to lethal. So they mostly walked in silence. And walked. And walked some more. The canyon field was larger than the other contained regions they’d found thus far. After spending the morning trudging through there was still no end in sight.

  “Let’s take a break here, it’s close enough to lunchtime,” Annette said.

  They agreed easily. Before joining the other two, George ducked behind a small copse of trees near the edge of one of the cliffs. He quickly jumped back out again, necessities forgotten.

  “Hey, come over here for a second.”

  The others joined him and he pointed out a distinctive tree, a few ravines further back. The trunk was twisted and warped, like the tree had leaned to the side before growing straight again. A bench-shaped area, shaded from the haze light by the canopy was the result. It was distressingly familiar.

  “Isn’t that where we camped last night?”

  “What? No, we’ve been hiking for hours. I’m sure the trees just look the same,” Annette said, looking at him oddly.

  George pushed mana into his eyes. It was a technique he’d developed over years, but the few months he’d spent at the Eternal Archive had made it far easier and more effective. The memory tablet he had gotten to look at as his reward for protecting the city compounded the effect. A cultivator focused almost entirely on stealth and information gathering had left memories of how to improve senses in short bursts. With the technique active, George could see every bump and divot in the tree bark.

  “There! It’s definitely the same tree. I can see the carving of the horror-squirrel John was doing last night.”

  “That’s impossible. I can’t see anything where are you looking?” Annette’s voice was getting higher as she tried to deny the inevitable.

  “By the base of the bench.”

  He pointed and watched Annette peer back pointlessly. Neither of the others had developed their senses enough to spot the thumb-sized carving. Eventually the others gave up looking.

  “What now?” John asked. “Do we go back the way we came?”

  George looked to Annette but the woman was trembling with panic already. Her pupils dilated and her breath was coming in quick pants.

  “Hey,” he reached out to grab her shoulders but thought better of it. Meristans didn’t like public touching. “It’s going to be fine. We knew the space magic was going to make some things weird. Let’s walk back towards the bench-tree now.”

  George kept up the soft words, while John gave Annette a gentle hug. Within a few minutes she’d calmed down enough for John to step back, though Martin noticed he left his hand on his sister’s shoulder. The only sign of the episode he could see was some puffiness around her eyes.

  “Apologies, I don’t know what came over me there. It’s not really any worse than the tree maze or those horrifying flying things.”

  “Riftmaws.”

  “Shut up John,” Annette said. But the watery laugh betrayed the sentiment.

  “Is this the first time you’ve done something dangerous, like life-threatening dangerous?” George asked.

  “I don’t go around risking my life regularly, no.”

  George took a moment to consider how to phrase things delicately. Annette was probably his favorite of the sect officers, but she still had a temper on occasion. “That makes sense. Sometimes the danger doesn’t really sink in immediately.

  “The first time I was sent out with the magehunters, we were supposed to find a new cultivator there were rumors about in the countryside outside of Laskar City. The thing was, it turns out the girl was a servant on a noble estate. We had to sneak in and get her out without anyone seeing us. The estate was full of armed guards, and some hunting dogs as well. I was as calm as could be during. But then I was so panicked when we got to the horses, I could barely get on. My team member had to tie me to the saddle.”

  “First big storm at sea for me. It was raining so hard you couldn’t see from one side of the deck to the other. Every time we crested a wave, I felt my feet leave the floor on the way down the other side. I refused to go back up top for two days after.”

  “You never told us that,” Annette said, voice small.

  “I was sixteen. You think Mama would let me go back out if she knew? Besides, I got used to it eventually. No one likes to sail through a storm, but I can handle it now.”

  “So what you’re both telling me, is that if I do enough crazy things I’ll be so inured to fear that nothing will phase me?”

  “How do you think Martin and Laurel turned out like that?” George quipped back.

  The tension broken, they began to make their way back towards the unusual tree.

  An hour later, and the distance between them had barely shrunk. In an unspoken agreement, they came to a stop. George’s mana senses had been spread out the entire time, but nothing seemed odd to him. It just felt like a normal landscape, if weird with the cracks in the earth. Just not one they could leave.

  “Annette. Can you feel anything unusual about this area. Like the trees?”

  “Maybe, what about you?”

  “My mana is aspected to metal. I can feel the flows and everything but it’s not the best option for picking up subtleties.”

  “I’m - I’m not sure.”

  “Let’s take a break here and meditate for a while, see if you feel anything.”

  **********

  Annette did her best to ignore everything. The ragged, off-tempo sounds of her breathing pattern and the feel of the hard ground beneath her kept trying to infringe and she pushed them away. Thoughts of her embarrassing breakdown intruded and she ignored those as well. Her hands gripped her skirts until her knuckles went white. Her whole being was focused on her spiritual senses. There was something there.

  Breathe in. Breathe out. Feel the mana.

  She pictured the controlled rivers of Verilia, the gentle tides of the countryside, and the patchwork streams of the rest of the hidden realm. None of them made sense here. Laurel had warned them that the water metaphors would fail eventually… No. Focus.

  Another few minutes and she flopped back onto the ground with a groan.

  “I can feel something but I can’t quite tell what,” she groaned.

  George and John both reoriented around her.

  “Why don’t you describe what you’re feeling?” George said.

  “It’s like the mana is longer here. No, that’s not it. Like the same amount of mana can suddenly fill up more space. But mana doesn’t really take up space. But it sort of does. Laurel always talks about flow all the time. Tidal and vortex and rivers and streams. That’s not what it feels like. It’s… I don’t know what it is. But I can feel it stretching.”

  “Um, well, that’s okay. Anything else?” George at least tried to make her feel better about that awful rambling explanation.

  “Like when Mama would complain about a bolt of fabric that the looms messed up? The tension in the warp not matching the weft.” John said.

  “No. Actually yes, exactly like that. Where did that come from?”

  “I was home for a few days and a whole bolt of fabric was ruined. Mama didn’t stop moaning about it until you got there.”

  “Huh.”

  “Great,” George broke in, “we have an idea of what’s going on. The mana is stretched somehow. Now do you feel a way to get us out of the stretched part?”

  Annette did not, in fact, have an idea. John, however, came to the rescue again.

  “If we’re on the taut string, we should try moving along the loose one right? Can you feel a direction where things are less tight?”

  She closed her eyes again. This time instead of trying to feel the whole area at once, she focused on one section at a time.

  “There.” She pointed then opened her eyes. To be confronted with the widest gap off their current patch of ground.

  George sighed. “Of course it is.”