Violence and death, grief, gaslighting, graphic sex and sexual situations, swearing

In the two years since Goll Mac Morna first tried to have me killed, I’d Walked to more dimensions than I could count. The first few times I escaped from the assassins of the mad king, the shift made me nauseous and tired. But running for your life makes you learn fast, and moving from one version of earth to another was now as easy as closing my eyes and taking a deep breath.

At least, until today.

When we appeared in the seventh dimension of the day, I collapsed to my knees and barely caught myself before landing on my face. Sweat tickled my forehead and the bridge of my nose, but I didn’t have the energy to pull my hands out of the hot sand to wipe it away, even when a spider the size of my thumb scuttled across the back of my fingers. I could only think, I hope it’s not venomous, as I tried to blink moisture back into eyeballs that felt like they’d been baked dry.

It would be so nice to just close my eyes and never open them again.

There’s too much at stake, Chapter. Get up.

I wobbled to my feet, fighting the urge to throw up, grateful that the hair falling over my face provided some shade from the tropical sun. We had only been Walking for ten minutes, but moving so quickly between so many dimensions exacted a serious physical toll.

“I thought this training exercise was supposed to be a formality, not torture,” I muttered.

Either my complaint had been too quiet or Belquis didn’t feel it deserved a reply, because he said, “You are still too loud. Concentrate, Allison. Redirect your energy.”

“Redirect it to where? Where am I supposed to put it?” I asked. The words came out weak and breathy, but I didn’t care. Not puking all over my shoes seemed more important than sounding tough.

“Hold your power until you’re between one verse and the next, then release it.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to do.”

“No, you haven’t. You’ve been pushing yourself into new verses like a demented wrecking ball. You don’t have to use every bit of strength you’ve got every time you Walk. Maybe it’s time for a break.”

I straightened, brushed the hair out of my face, clenched my fists, and said, “I’m not stopping till I get this right.”

Belquis’ handsome features hardened. “You think you’re going to have the strength to rescue Sonya if you destroy yourself now? Use your head.”

Sonya was the smallest member of our team, but she'd protected us with her gift for light manipulation so many times. It was criminal how much we relied on her. She had comforted me when I broke down, stood by my side, and put herself in danger to save an innocent young girl.

Now she was a hostage of the Alfar, the most dangerous race in the Eververse, and it was my fault. I had told her to go there. Yes, we had been in danger and she needed to protect Agnes. And, yes, at the time we still believed the Alfar were our allies. But that didn’t change the fact that Sonya had never come home and it was my plan that put her there.

“I won’t leave her, and I will not keep putting all of you in danger because I can’t control my power. If I’m doing something wrong, tell me how to fix it.”

He gave me a nod of approval, then said, “Slow down. The faster you go, the more energy you use. More energy means more inter-dimensional ‘noise.’ If you take your time, you’ll feel the energy build. You can slip out of one verse at the tipping point instead of charging out of it. Instead of pushing the energy, let it slide away. Then you’ll be quiet as a church mouse.”

“It’s as simple as that, eh?”

“It’s as simple as that.”

But there was nothing simple about my new life. I had gone from being a disinterested college senior to an inter-dimensional cop within a year, and now I was essentially an outlaw about to break into one of the most technologically advanced planets in the Eververse to steal back my teammate. But thinking about that when I should be training wouldn’t make things any easier, so I swallowed my frustration and thought, Okay, Chapter. Walking between dimensions is a piece of cake. Just take it nice and easy.

The atmosphere changed when Belquis focused on a verse and prepared to Walk. Invisible waves of power from his atomic shift beat against my skin, giving me a signature to lock onto so I could follow him out of this version of Earth and into a different one.

With an effort of will, my frequency shifted to match his, but I held myself back as my body shook with the force of our Walking. A little at a time, I told myself, locking my jaw against the instinct to push until the shift was complete.

The smothering heat and humidity fell away until they existed only as faint impressions. Mind focused, I edged forward, using only a fraction of my power to push myself toward the tipping point that would cause me to slip from this dimension into another. As I stood on the precipice, I sensed something I had never noticed in all the time I’d been using my gift; a dead space between this verse and the next. It was empty, hungry, as if nothing could exist there but it was still desperate to fill itself up. If it caught me I would just…cease to be.

The sensation of not-being only lasted a split second, but it scared me enough that I flung myself away from it. Instead of releasing the energy in a whisper, it flowed out of me in a shock wave that sent us sprawling in the sand.

Belquis sat up, shook the sand from his locs, and scowled at me. “That was the opposite of what I asked you do to.”

“Did you know that was there?”

“What?”

“The in-between place! It’s like,” I gestured helplessly, “a nowhere or a no-place. God, I don’t even have words for it.”

“Yes. That’s where you release your energy.”

“Does everyone know about it?”

“Anyone who’s been doing this long enough. Or, anyone who’s been properly trained,” he amended.

“Yeah, well,” I pushed myself to my feet, “blame that one on Ronan. He was supposed to train me.”

Humor flashed in his dark eyes and, though the expression was fleeting, it was so animated that I knew exactly what he was thinking. He trained you in something else, though, didn’t he?

My cheeks went up in flames and I laughed at the unexpectedness of Belquis making a dirty joke, even though he hadn’t said it aloud. He wasn’t even wrong. Ronan had been my mentor, and part of his job was to teach me about the laws that governed Walkers like us, the Laws of Founding. The other part had been training me to use my ability to travel between different versions of earth in the Eververse. But Goll Mac Morna had been trying to kill me at the time, and Ronan had to forgo the subtler side of my training in favor of keeping me alive.

Since we’d married, though, my new husband had found time to teach a few very important things more related to bedrooms than to Walking, and he was a very good teacher.

An unwilling grin spread across Belquis’ face when he noticed my blush. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” I said as soon as I caught my breath. “I needed that.”

With the tension broken, I rolled my shoulders and nodded, ready to try again.

“Don’t forget to release the energy once you slip away,” he reminded me.

I made an affirmative noise, but I didn’t like the idea of staying in the in-between long enough to try, not that my feelings mattered. I was too loud when I Walked, releasing too much energy, and if I couldn’t learn to get the “sound” under control, I would be worse than no help; I would be a constant danger to my team.

The Alfar were searching for us using implanted bio-tech created from the stolen DNA of other Walkers, and I was a beacon in a dark sky; they could track me anywhere I went, no matter how obscure the verse.

They could be tracking me now. That shock wave hadn’t exactly been quiet. The same thought must have occurred to Belquis, because he gave me a solemn nod and we tried again.

I released the energy as soon as I felt the empty pull of the in-between, and opened my eyes on a grassy plain that stretched for miles in every direction. My stomach heaved, and I clenched my jaw. The unpleasant side effects of Walking hadn’t been this bad since my first few trips.

“How was that?” I asked as soon as I was sure I wouldn’t puke.

“Better, but not ideal. You still pushed. Let’s try again.”

We Walked between verses while I practiced releasing my energy into that hungry in-between space, every verse new and surprising. I stood in the outskirts of an abandoned city so overgrown by the forest that a deer cropped grass on what would have been the main street.

“Again.”

An arid, watercolor desert in shades of orange and yellow, with rocks like dragon’s teeth thrusting out of the dirt.

“Again.”

A bamboo forest, cattails by the river, a crater so wide and deep I thought, at first, it was a canyon.

At last, I stood in ankle-deep snow, shaking from fatigue and sick to my stomach. The remaining members of my team waited on the opposite side of a clearing. Once they saw us, they plowed through the snow toward us with their arms full of warm clothes and first aid supplies. Ronan reached me first and wrapped a wool blanket around my shoulders. He smelled like stew and wood fire smoke. I closed my eyes and leaned against his chest, soaking in his warmth and the solid strength of his big body.

“So,” Rich said, holding out a flannel blanket, “how’d she do?”

Belquis took it and raised an eyebrow as he threw the fabric around his shoulders. “Did you feel her Walk?”

“Now that you mention it, no. I didn’t. Damndest thing. I suppose that means she did pretty good.”

“I wouldn’t have brought her back if I thought we’d lead the Alfar to you. I’m not tall enough to hide her signature the way Ronan can.”

Ronan was around six-foot-four, so I was the perfect height for him to rest his chin on the top of my head. That also meant my whole body could fit within the electromagnetic field surrounding him. If he needed to Walk to another verse with me, he could conceal my signature with his own.

He leaned down and kissed the top of my head before we turned to follow Rich back toward the cabin. The smaller man cut a path through the snow and we trudged behind him in a line as our breath rose in clouds around us.

“We can go get Sonya, then?” Rich asked a moment later.

Ronan braced me against his chest and said, “Let’s talk about it after we get Allie inside. Our delicate little rose feels like she’s about to wilt.”

“Your delicate little rose has a few thorns,” I said and pinched his stomach. In response, he tightened his arms around me, trapping mine, and both of us struggled until we nearly tripped over each other’s feet. I twisted my shoulder and freed one arm, flailing as Ronan tried to grab my wrist.

“That’s what pruning shears,” he said, struggling to catch my arm before I could pinch him again, “are for.”

I wrenched the other arm free while he was distracted and gave him a solid punch in the gut.

He grunted, but it was from trying to control his laughter, not because I’d caught him off guard. The man had a cast iron stomach, which was completely unfair. I’d never even seen him do any sit-ups.

I shook my fingers out and grumbled, “Practically broke my hand.”

He snorted, caught the blanket before my shenanigans sent it sliding to the snow, and wrapped it securely about my shoulders once more, a dimple showing in one cheek. His laugh warmed me more than the blanket could. He kissed the top of my head and his satisfaction was as real to my senses as my own sudden feeling of belonging.

Just a couple of weeks ago, laughing with Ronan in the snow seemed like an impossibility. I had staged what amounted to a mutiny against him so I could fight in the battle on Eriu to kill Goll MacMorna, and I’d been certain he wouldn’t be able to forgive me, especially after my father had died there to save us.

Dealing with my father’s death had only driven the wedge deeper as we felt one another’s emotions. I had assumed Ronan’s frustration was aimed at me, and he thought my self-loathing had been directed at him. It had taken painful honesty to bring us back together, and this lighthearted side of him made me feel like maybe, just maybe, the pain would be worth it, in the end. Maybe, when all of this was over, we could start a real life together, one where Ronan smiled and laughed.

If we could stop the Alfar from slaughtering the rest of the Venatore, of course. My hope died a sudden death at the thought, and Ronan’s lighthearted stride stiffened in response.

“Sorry,” I muttered, guilty that my thoughts had ruined his good mood. “Being able to feel each other’s emotions is going to take some getting used to.”

“You’re telling me.”

Neither of us were entirely sure how I had done it. My life had been almost total chaos since I’d become a Walker. We’d never had enough time to fully explore my abilities, but I had somehow bonded us on an elemental level during an intimate moment. Getting used to feeling two sets of emotions was strange, to say the least.

At some point, we would have to figure out the extent of my gift, but that would be dangerous even when we weren’t running for our lives. People coveted power like mine, and they weren’t above using violence to get their hands on it.

I was saved from having to think anymore about that unpleasant prospect when we caught sight of smoke above the trees. The cabin we were using as a base of operations was nestled amongst the trees with wood stacked beneath the eaves and firelight glowing in the windows. We stamped the snow off our feet one at a time before crowding into the single room and huddling around the hearth.

Ronan had kept this place tucked away in an obscure verse, and it had served as a haven since we learned the Alfar had betrayed their alliance with the Venatore. Instead of hunting new Walkers and teaching them how to use their powers, the Alfar planned to hunt Venatore and cripple the only form of government our people had.

And we were the only ones who knew about it.

I collapsed onto the bed and slumped forward, letting the heat of the fire warm my numb cheeks as Ronan and Rich ladled stew into ceramic bowls. It was the last fresh food we had, but exhaustion made it one of the best things I’d ever tasted. The potatoes, onions, and carrots soaked up the beef broth and were just soft enough to provide some texture without collapsing in your mouth. I wished I had some bread to dip in the broth.

“Getting back to Sonya,” Rich said as he handed Belquis a bowl. “We can get moving tomorrow, right? We’ve already lost a day making sure Red doesn’t warn every Alfar in the Eververse that we’re coming. I don’t like the idea of leaving her there any longer than necessary.”

I scowled at his nickname for me but was too busy snarfing stew to do anything about it.

“Neither do I. Allie and I can leave tomorrow morning to find Angus,” Ronan’s lips twisted around his foster father’s name, “as long as you can get those devices you told me about. Everything hinges on being able to disrupt Alfin technology long enough to get Sonya out without being tracked.”

“I told you I can get it.”

Ronan nodded but set his jaw, reminding me that I wasn't the only one not looking forward to tracking down his foster father. The last time I’d seen Angus, he was betraying me to the Concilium for breaking the First Law of Founding. I had carried the magic sword, Moralltach, between verses, but only because Angus implied that I’d need it to save Ronan from being imprisoned by Goll Mac Morna.

I stabbed a piece of meat with my spoon as I remembered his smug expression while he testified against me. Woden had been right when he called my foster-father-in-law a dog’s ass, but he was the only dog’s ass that had any hope of getting us into the Valetudinorium unnoticed so we could rescue Sonya. He was the only other Walker we knew of who could make himself effectively invisible. The problem was that he could only extend that gift to a few people, and his shield wasn’t perfect.

So, if we were going to get back into Avalon to warn the Venatore about the treachery without getting ourselves arrested, we were going to need Sonya. Her ability to manipulate light was far beyond his. And to get Sonya back without getting ourselves killed, we were going to need Angus.

After eating, the four of us chatted a while longer about the details of the plan and backup plan, but that was mostly a formality. We’d been over everything so many times there was no chance any of us would forget our jobs.

Rich and Belquis unfolded their cots but sat for a while chatting about innocuous things to wind down. They were a study in opposites; Belquis was dark-skinned and handsome with long, lean lines and elegant bearing, while Rich was shorter and wiry, with pale skin and weathered features. Over the past months, they’d ceased being just my teammates and had become my friends, and unless we could stop the Alfar they would both be in danger for the rest of their lives.

They didn’t talk long before finally climbing into their sleeping bags, and what had been the living room earlier in the day, and the dining room a few minutes before, became a bedroom.

Ronan and I withdrew to the cabin’s only bed, and I burrowed beneath the blanket to wrap my arms around his chest, snuggling until my head found that perfect place between his shoulder, neck, and collarbone. He shifted his hips so I could wrap one leg comfortably over his, and sighed a contented sigh as his arms slid around me.

After a moment of silence, he said, “I would feel a lot better about this if I knew for certain where to find Angus. Rich is right. Sonya has already been there too long.”

“I would feel a lot better about the entire affair if the last rescue mission I went on with him hadn’t included creeping through calf-deep sewage for an hour.”

Ronan’s chest shook with a single, silent laugh. “I think we’d be safe in assuming the Alfar have nothing as pedestrian as sewer systems.”

“It’s either worry about that, or worry that we won’t find him at all. Then we’ll have to rescue Sonya and Agnes through force. I don’t think we can pull that off.”

As worried as I was about Sonya, at least she was an adult. Agnes, the ten-year-old girl Sonya had been trying to save, was also on Alfar. She had a powerful gift with healing herbs, and if the Alfar were willing to steal genetic material from unwilling or unknowing Walkers, would Agnes’s age stop them?

Ronan must have felt my growing concern because his arms tightened around me and he said, “How about we don’t worry about anything, tonight? I’m just going to hold you and pretend nothing else exists but the feel of you until morning.”

I pressed a kiss against his neck and wished, as I had before, that Belquis and Rich had someplace else to stay. At least then I could fall asleep in Ronan’s arms, too exhausted to think about everything that was at stake if we couldn’t find Angus.