Out of all of them, Pooka looked most damaged, but she tended to herself, licking her wounds. Occasionally, a small bundle of oily eels would slither to the surface of her fur to suck on the bloody parts. Tahki didn’t even flinch at the sight of them.
He glanced to Sornjia. His brother looked gaunt, like he’d been drained. He hadn’t looked this bad when Zinc shot him. His eyes appeared a dull gray-green. Something was wrong with him, beyond the exhaustion he must be feeling from the fight. When Tahki tried to ask, Sornjia said he was fine. No smile, just a blank stare, his body tense, his nails digging into his arms.
When Rye finally spoke again, his words were slow, jagged. “After you left, your brother showed up with the cat. The cat, I mean Pooka, fought Zinc’s men while Sornjia and I stopped Dyraien from entering that… that place.” Rye stared down at the dirt as he spoke. “The pathway started to close. Dyraien panicked. He tried to climb inside, but Sornjia grabbed him. They both touched it. They touched the other world.”
Tahki looked at his brother. “You mean you saw it? You saw the Dim?”
Sornjia didn’t say anything.
“I’m not sure what happened.” Rye gave Sornjia a wary glance. “It was like something out of a dream. Dyraien started to enter, and Sornjia stopped him. But when he did, when Sornjia touched the path, it was like… it was like… all the stars in the sky opened themselves up inside him. I thought he was going to die with all that energy passing through. It was like the energy shifted from Gotem to Sornjia, and he just—”
“I pulled Dyraien back,” Sornjia said with unusual harshness. “I pulled him back into the room, away from the pathway. And then we fought. That’s all there is to say on the matter.”
Tahki stared at his brother, and Sornjia stared back at him. Rye hadn’t seemed to understand, but Tahki did.
His brother was a mystic.
Somehow, this didn’t surprise him. In fact, out of everything that had happened, it made the most sense. Sornjia’s odd way of speaking, his ability to know things no one could know, his connection with Pooka. Tahki would have been more surprised if he hadn’t been a mystic.
Tahki wanted to kill Dyraien now more than ever. Dyraien would have seen Sornjia; he would know what he was. Would that make Sornjia a target for others like Dyraien?
“After that,” Rye went on, not seeming to sense the tension. “The pathway started to close again. Then there was a burst of steam from the ceiling. I assume Zinc turned the machine on. At first, it held the pathway open. The power of that thing.” Rye released a shaky breath. “Tahki, the force of that thing was unbelievable. It could have torn open the world.”
Tahki swallowed.
“The steam forced the pathway open,” Rye continued. “But something was on the other side. Something angry.”
“Something angry?”
Rye gripped his stomach and shut his eyes. “I don’t know. I don’t want to sound impertinent or disrespectful, but Tahki, whatever that thing was on the other side, it wasn’t a god.”
Tahki inched closer. “What makes you say that?”
“The cat—Pooka—she went crazy. She started attacking it, but the steam was everywhere. I couldn’t see. I think the thing hurt her.”
Beside them, Pooka growled. Rye reached out and set his hand on her head like she was one of his gingoats.
“The thing tried to go after Dyraien,” Rye said. “It was chaos down there. And then the entire floor shook, and the ceiling started to cave in.”
Tahki scooted closer. “What happened to the pathway?”
“When the roof started to fall, the steam stopped, and the pathway closed. Gotem, he….”
“He’s dead,” Sornjia said in a flat tone.
Tahki bowed his head. “I’m sorry, Gotem.” It was all he could think to say. Gotem had saved his life, and Tahki had gotten him killed. But retribution would come later. For now, he needed to concentrate on what had happened. “What about that creature that escaped the Dim?”
Rye shrugged and then winced at the pain. “I don’t know what happened to it. It knocked Dyraien out cold, and then I guess it got sucked back inside when the world closed.” He didn’t sound too sure. “Sornjia and I grabbed Dyraien and made it to the river, but everything was falling around us. If it wasn’t for Pooka’s help, we would have been crushed.”
“So, I killed Gotem, and I almost killed you two.” Tears welled in his eyes.
Rye locked his arm around Tahki’s neck and drew him close. “Dyraien killed Gotem. And you did the right thing. We might all be dead had the pathway stayed open.”
Sornjia didn’t offer any sort of consolation. No cheery optimistic speeches, no comforting words of selflessness.
“Will your finger heal?”
“It should.” Rye pressed on the makeshift brace. “Anyway, you’re not exactly in great shape yourself. What happened to Zinc?”
Tahki heard the man’s screams in his mind, smelled his burning flesh. “Dead.”
“Good.”
Tahki rubbed his wrist. “What do we do now?”
Rye coughed. “We’ll turn Dyraien in, tell the council what happened.”
“What if they don’t believe us?”
Rye reached out and touched Tahki’s hand lightly. “We’ll convince them, somehow.”
They sat in silence for a time and watched as bits of castle fell over the waterfall. The clouds drifted high and the sun warmed them. Tahki shut his eyes but then felt Rye stand with greater speed than he thought capable with his wounds.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” Tahki grabbed Rye and pulled himself up.
Two people walked toward them. As they neared, he recognized Gale and Hona. Rye tensed. Gale walked past them—ignoring even Pooka—to
