Aurora looked out from the edge of the unstable gate, staring at mud-flats that extended as far as the eye could see. The sky was a uniform gray. The only interruption in the landscape were small groves of a blueish shrub. Stale air wafted by on a light breeze, reminding her of a refrigerator left closed too long.

“How far out are we?” she asked, taking careful steps forward.

“Make it stop! Make it stop! Make them go away!” Aurora cried.

She was huddled in the corner of her room, rocking back and forth. She was holding a pillow to her head, pressed hard against her ears. All the lights were out, leaving only the dim light of the clouded moon to see her by.

Oh, God, oh God. Today was the day. Helen had been waiting weeks for the results. Everyone else on the project was rooting for her, though they were probably thoroughly sick of her bringing it up every day. But now that she was here, standing in front of the Chromorphia headquarters, staring up at the tower of glass and steel, she was afraid to go in.

A burst of noise. Footsteps outside the door. Or was it just another version of the voices? Helen could hardly tell. There was never this much noise here. Just the voices that crept at the edge of perception, coming in crests and troughs. She had lost track of how long she'd spent here, with fear and hallucinations her only companions.

“Hey, mom?” Aurora asked, peaking her head into Helen's office. She waited for her mom to take off her headset and turn around in her chair.

“Hey, sweetie,” Helen replied. “What's up?”

“Why did you never tell me?” Aurora asked. She tried to keep the accusation from her voice. The point here was information, not blame.

Her mom sat across from her at the cafe, her eyes down-turned. “It was never the right time,” Helen said.

“Whatever you do,” Raeth said. “Don't touch the windows.”

As if Aurora needed something else to add to the nameless dread she felt in this place. When she had first discovered the gate, she had heard it from almost a mile away. The whispers that she had thought were madness grew stronger and stronger. She had fled as soon as she found it.

Isabella collapsed to her knees the moment they stepped through the gate into Galavaria. Aurora couldn't blame her. The pressure, the noise, the subtle fear was gone instantly. Aurora had had training and time to get used to it. It wasn't nearly as bad for those who couldn't touch the source, she'd been told, but it was still intense.

“A-Are you sure this is... safe?” Isabella asked. She was unconsciously crouching her shoulders, making herself small. Her eyes glanced left to right like she expected a predator at any turn.

“It will be fine,” Aurora said, forcing her voice to be steady.

Isabella's cave theory had panned out. Though she had lost track of how long she'd been moving, the cold, stone ground had met up with ragged walls some time back. She had continued along the left wall, following various side passages both small and large. Not one had given her a hint of light. There was no way she was close to the surface.

As fine ash drifted into her hair, Aurora felt very, very glad that this area was largely untraveled this late in the evening. Even so, the Council was going to have an awful lot of explaining to do. She cringed at the thought. At least there wasn't a crater this time. Hell, the radius was even down to... well, maybe a thousand feet on the outside? Maybe she was learning.

Isabella's eyes opened to darkness. Complete darkness. The air had a chill, muggy quality to it. If she was still anywhere near where the apartment had been, she couldn't be anywhere connected to the outdoors. Even the buildings weren't kept this cold. That's assuming she was still on Galavaria. Of course, if she wasn't, she expected to be reeling from nausea like the last two world-transfers she'd suffered through. Besides, only Council-folk could transfer, and they were all on the same side.

“Um, Councilor?” a voice asked from outside Raeth's chamber. It was a young voice. One of the children, perhaps, making themselves useful. Sourceformers rarely emerged that young.

“Yes, child,” Raeth replied, looking up from their newest pile of documents. “Speak.”

“You know, Councilor,” a voice said from the woods. “You really should know better.”

Aurora spun around, her nerves lashing tight around her power. It was always worst when she was startled or afraid. There was a figure standing in the dark of the trees, hidden by the deepening shadows of twilight. She could make out that it was cloaked, which already marked it as not native. At least not to this part of Galavaria.

“So you know who I am, I guess,” Aurora said. “Care to return the favor?”

“You're enjoying this, aren't you?” Isabella asked. She was having a hard time keeping her hands down at her sides, not covering up the taboo bits that would have gotten her arrested on Earth.

“This time I'm coming with you,” Isabella said. She stomped her foot for good measure, as if daring defiance. There was a twinkle in her eye, though, and it was obvious she held back a giggle.

Aurora was the first to break the silence. “There is another option, you know.” She felt Isabella's hand twitch in hers. “If we've really given up on all hope.”

“We had a good run, I guess,” Isabella said, trying to sound jovial despite her shaking voice. Her hand clasped Aurora's under a layer of fine stone. They were each trapped apart, but at least they had this small contact.