Camellia didn’t remember closing her eyes, but since she found them closed, there was no point in not opening them. Slowly, she lifted her lids, and her eyes went wide.

Space enveloped her, and flotsam floated ahead. Old, broken things described a path through the stars. Camellia saw an old piano, a table and chairs, and even a burned-up stove. Farther in the distance, Camellia saw other bits of flotsam, all following after each other as if dropped, one by one from the back of a wagon.

Camellia looked down. She found herself atop her own piece of space junk. The slag could have been part of Rooks’ ships or a Lurrien vessel. Camellia sighed.

This is the Obsidian Mirror. I might have known I’d get dragged in. Ul’thetos had her tentacles so far in my business, I don’t see how I could have avoided it.

Camellia squared her shoulders. She had tagged along on one dream before: Sorin’s. While Sorin saw his creation through the view of a dreamer, a slave to that kind of surreal logic, Camellia had seen his dream world as a puzzle to be solved.

Ul’thetos’ dream should be the same. Camellia just needed to determine Ul’thetos’ win conditions and prevent them. She would have to pass by Ul’thetos’ nightmares. Camellia worried what those could be. Still, she thought she could do it, win the puzzle, exit first, and drop the bombs on Ul’thetos.

Camellia looked around. She was stranded in space. She needed to get somewhere – anywhere – but she preferred Iruedim.

Atop her space flotsam, Camellia turned. She checked the sky. Space junk led ahead for anyone brave enough to jump from piece to piece. On either side, stars greeted Camellia. Behind her…

Camellia froze. She put her hand to her heart.

All of her friends drifted, embedded in blue crystals. Hundreds of the things captured her companions. They looked to be sleeping. Nearby, Camellia saw Adalhard. The man was unconscious.

Florian. She opened her mouth and shaped the words, but she knew no dreamer’s voice could be heard in the Obsidian Mirror.

Camellia saw Meladee and Benham, Eva and Sten, Rooks and Cernunnos, and everyone else, left like so much space slag.

Ul’thetos had brought them to the dream too, but they could neither move nor think, probably because of the pressure Ul’thetos kept them under. At least, they looked peaceful, so unlike the grimace of pain Adalhard had worn in reality.

Camellia looked beyond her comrades and saw others. She knit her brow.

Some inhabited blue crystals. Others lay inside grey ones.

Beyond her team, Camellia spotted strangers: Lurriens, organics and synthetics alike, trapped in the same blue and grey crystals.

Adalhard’s crystal floated closer, and Camellia touched it. She could reach no one else. She stroked the smooth exterior and took one last look at Adalhard’s face.

Then, she turned and leapt from her piece of flotsam to another slab of broken hull. Camellia couldn’t expect to advance in the direction her friends slumbered. She needed to go where Ul’thetos was.

She worked her way across space, jumping from hull to door to disembodied window. Some pieces floated on edge, and Camellia waited for them to drift around, becoming flat enough to jump on. Camellia looked back and found her comrades far away. Together, they looked like a blue-grey star, shining through the space trash.

The next section of trash was tight. Camellia could walk from piece to piece.

Where am I headed? And, where is Ul’thetos?

Camellia searched.

In the distance, she saw a ship. It flew towards the Iruedian wormhole, dodging piles of space junk. Camellia recognized the portal to her homeland, having seen it on her own trip outside. Soon, that ship, probably carrying Ul’thetos, would travel through to a dream version of Iruedim. Camellia sighed. She needed to get to Iruedim – first.

The trail of space flotsam led all the way to the wormhole, but Camellia couldn’t run the distance in a century, let alone the span of a dream. She stopped and searched the junk. Camellia would make her own portal.

Ahead, she spotted a door, still caught in its frame. It rotated in space, and Camellia sprang to the next piece of flotsam. She traveled closer, until she stopped atop an old rug and waited as the door drifted, closing the final distance.

The door spun to face her, and Camellia reached for it. She grasped the knob and pulled it open. Inside, she found her own personal wormhole. Peering through, she saw Iruedim’s sunny skies, possibly a sky over Tagtrum. Camellia stepped in.

Camellia trotted through what she supposed was a representation of Tagtrum.

As she ran, she wondered about the lack of surreal elements. Aside from an unusual color palette, Tagtrum looked so...realistic.

Of course, Camellia did notice abnormalities. She could see individual bugs in the grass, glinting like tiny jewels. She saw the sun’s rays as they traveled to the planet, shimmering in beams of gold. Rocks reflected the light, but Camellia saw other rocks that gave off their own glow. She knew that crystals and other minerals lay inside.

Camellia ran through a strong sunbeam and sighed. Though she knew it was a pretend sun in nothing more than a dream, her steps plodded. The heat and light bore down.

Ul’thetos must love this weather, but I don’t. Let’s make it in my favor.

Camellia shielded her eyes and looked at the sun. She reached up and placed her fingers on the disc. Camellia didn’t know whether the sun should set to the left or right, but it didn’t matter. She dragged it through the sky.

At first, she stood on tiptoe to be tall enough. As she moved the sun lower, she came back down on her heels.

The sun’s light diminished, and its beams sparkled in hues of pink, purple, and orange. Camellia pulled it to the edge of the sky, and finally, she tapped the sun, until it sat just below the horizon.

Twilight cast Ul’thetos’ dream into blue.

Camellia ran through the cool night. At a vampire’s speed, she moved through the fields and searched for features in the flat landscape. She found only a series of caves. They reminded her of the caves on Ul’thetos’ beach, but in a larger size.

Camellia approached the great caves and found that the first entrance towered above her head. To reach it, she would have to stand atop the shoulders of hundreds of Camellias.

Luckily, she didn’t need to reach that high. She peeked inside and entered. She trotted over dusty ground, headed for a dark shape.

Camellia reached it and found that it was a mess of twigs, all woven together. Camellia put her hand on the structure. Quietly, she caught her breath and listened.

Little pops and squelches came from the nest. Camellia grabbed a fistful of twig, found a foothold, and climbed up. She crested the top, knowing what she would see.

The smell of wood and bodily fluids assailed her nose. Shiny blue eggs popped, and tiny creature babies rolled out. Each one emerged from its thick, slimy shell with eyes and short tentacles.

Camellia frowned in disgust at the wet babies, but at the other end of the nest, she found drier samples. They bobbed as if dancing. The blue, red, green, and even yellow creatures rolled and pulled themselves around the nest. Two got into a small fight and slapped each other with their tiny tentacles. Another small group wound themselves together and looked cozy. Camellia almost smiled but caught herself.

She pulled herself atop the nest and straddled it. The twigs felt rough on her legs, and Camellia wondered how the bark didn’t scratch the soft skin of Ul’thetos’ infants.

These are important to Ul’thetos.

She prepared to climb inside when she caught sight of a familiar baby. Blue-green and angry, Ah’nee’thit had a corner of the nest to itself.

So nice to see you again, Camellia joked, directing her thoughts to the little thing.

Dream Ah’nee’thit heard and glared at her.

She thought the little creature recognized her. Apparently, Ul’thetos’ concept of Ah’nee’thit also involved knowledge of Camellia. Either that or some of Camellia’s ideas leaked into the dream.

Camellia slid into the nest. She hung on to the top and found footholds that kept her well above the baby creatures.

Perched against the twigs, Camellia froze. She heard bump – squeak – rub, over and over. The sound came from outside the nest.

Camellia peeked over the edge.

Coming through the night, Ul’thetos slithered, still some distance away. Camellia could just make out the red toned parent, but with ease, she could see the parade of balloons grasped in one tentacle.

Going up? Camellia looked back at the babies.

Without hesitation, she stepped around the nest, keeping her hands on the upper twigs. She slid her feet around the interior.

The babies couldn’t reach and to help matters, they all wriggled out of Camellia’s way, as if afraid of the cradle robber.

They should be because that’s exactly what I am.

Camellia stopped just above Ah’nee’thit. Ah’nee’thit didn’t move. It just glared with angry little eyes. Camellia kept her perch and reached down. She bent low, until her hand came close to the bottom of the nest. She grabbed a handful of tentacles, and took Ah’nee’thit in her arms.

It growled but did nothing more.

You can’t hurt or infect me, Camellia informed dream Ah’nee’thit. Because I’m immune. The medicine of Lurren flows through my veins.

With Ul’thetos nearby, Camellia couldn’t exit the cave. She climbed out of the nest and ran towards the back. She needed to hide, but she found the cave open and featureless. The cavern was simple and served one purpose: to hold the nest. There were no standing stones or stalactites or stalagmites. Camellia had to make them.

She held Ah’nee’thit tight and scooped up a pinch of dirt.

Camellia closed one eye and held the dirt just above the cave’s horizon line. She sprinkled it, using her point of view to maximize the dirt’s effect. She smiled as piles formed on the cave floor, not where she stood but where she hoped to hide.

Camellia lowered her hand and admired her handiwork. She’d made two large rocks at the back of the cave, a neat hiding place. Camellia ran to the rocks and ducked behind them.

Again, Ah’nee’thit growled. Camellia tried to quiet him, but she couldn’t discern where his noise came from. She turned the small, angry creature over and over. There was no mouth. In the end, she just hugged Ah’nee’thit tight to muffle the sound.

The other creatures squelched and twittered in the nest. They seemed almost happy at Ah’nee’thit’s capture, and their celebration helped to mask the sound of their not missed sibling.

Ul’thetos reached the mouth of the cave. She tucked the balloons under the ceiling. She picked a hatchling, tied it to a balloon, and sent it on its way, up into the sky.

The little creature squealed with what Camellia interpreted as joy.

Then, Ul’thetos picked another and sent it along to space.

Decorations of Lurrien ships adorned each balloon. Wide-eyed rockets and grinning spaceships – cartoons – carried Ul’thetos’ children into the sky. Camellia assumed they would be headed to planets of their own – something that never came to pass in reality. Ancient Iruedians had killed every one of Ul’thetos’ real infants.

Angry cries sounded. Ul’thetos worked faster.

At first, Camellia knit her brow and wondered what Ul’thetos feared. Then, she realized. Angry Iruedians had come for Ul’thetos and her children. As the last balloon rose into the sky, Ul’thetos checked the nest. Of course, one balloon had been left over, but there were no more hatchlings.

Camellia held her breath and got ready to flee. Could little Ah’nee’thit telepathically alert its mother to the problem?

Ah’nee’thit squirmed and tried to flee, but Camellia held it tight. She knew Ah’nee’thit’s journey to another planet probably factored into Ul’thetos’ win condition. After all, Ul’thetos still held that final balloon.

Ul’thetos turned her attention to the back of the cave, and Camellia froze.

Ul’thetos never came closer. Instead, she turned and slithered from the cave mouth. A mob of angry Iruedians streamed past. They carried bright weapons, so like the fairy tale depictions Camellia found in the history books those months ago.

Camellia almost got up, but an Iruedian came and checked the nest. The man’s eyes looked vacant, simple, and murderous. Camellia could see the pulse of his blood beneath his skin. Words and images hovered around his head – his thoughts. Camellia saw the phrase ‘must kill’ more often than even images of tiny, torn tentacles.

The man left, and Camellia got up. She exited the cave and boldly stood in the open. Ul’thetos fled along the horizon, casting spells as she went. The Iruedian pursuers cast their own magic. Above the battle, hovered words and images.

Camellia thought she understood. Ul’thetos is repeating the course of her life. Will she try to do everything right this time? But, what is right?

Camellia knew the hatchlings should find their own planets, so Ul’thetos needed to send Ah’nee’thit on its way. What else did Ul’thetos need? To spread over the planet and acquire thralls. How could Camellia disrupt those goals?

Camellia clutched Ah’nee’thit to her chest, determined to keep at least one win condition from Ul’thetos.

She ran in the opposite direction of Ul’thetos’ escape. At first, Camellia saw nothing but shadow. Then, a blurry city took shape. As Camellia drew closer, the city remained blurred, and Camellia understood why.

She saw a flesh encrusted city, with web-riddled towers, ropey rampways, and drippy awnings. The flesh made the architecture look fuzzy – blurred. The illusion made sense now.

What didn’t make sense was the new flesh’s appearance. Camellia didn’t recognize it. It was neither the red flesh of Ul’thetos or the blue-green flesh of Ah’nee’thit. This landscape belonged to a third powerful creature.

Camellia walked towards the city and observed yellow-green flesh, not thick and juicy, or folded into neat tentacles. The new flesh was frosted with tendon-like stretches of white. Camellia thought it looked like a web.

Ul’thetos’ parent? Ul’thetos sibling? Mate?

At the transition between Iruedim and this other unnamed planet, Camellia stopped. She glanced at Ah’nee’thit and found it quivering. Camellia set her eyes on the webbed city.

This place is something Ul’thetos fears. If I go inside, Ul’thetos may be unable to reclaim the win. She stepped over the threshold. This should be interesting.

Through the city, Camellia strolled. Thin, webbed growth covered everything and obscured what Camellia could learn about these people. Still, she observed.

She saw tall arches, clover-shaped courtyards, and sweeping ramps that led from doorways to windows, and from roofs to the street below. From the way the ramps curved, Camellia knew the inhabitants couldn’t be humanoid. She doubted she could keep her balance on the vertical paths.

Camellia ventured deeper. She kept to the streets and avoided the strange architecture.

Eventually, she saw them. The thralls, automatons, or whatever they could be called roamed the city. They towered three to four feet above Camellia, giving them a total height of eight or nine feet. Their hammer-shaped heads were bedecked in webbed flesh as were their many limbs. Underneath all that creature flesh, Camellia could still see jeweled eyes, faceted in shades of blue and green. Rarely did Camellia see the eyes of a Lurrien automaton.

Ah’nee’thit grew quiet and fearful of the thralls, but the aliens left Camellia and her small charge alone. As Camellia watched a slow-moving thrall lumber by, she stroked Ah’nee’thit’s head. The little creature puddled into itself to avoid her touch.

Camellia sighed.

She walked. She didn’t know what else to do. So, Camellia tried to satisfy her curiosity. Who were these people who lost their home?

Camellia ventured on to the ramps. She traveled twisting paths to find that they looped back and through the buildings. Sometimes, a path turned on its side, and Camellia had to backtrack.

One path, Camellia especially liked. It seemed to lead to a great spire at the center of the city. She followed the path, praying that it would remain flat and easy to traverse. It did, but once she reached the end, she huffed in disappointment. She had expected the ramp to take them forward, but instead, it brought them to the entrance of the webbed city, albeit at a much higher vantage point.

Camellia looked out to Iruedim. She saw Ul’thetos flee the Iruedians. The single balloon remained clutched in Ul’thetos’ tentacle. Camellia frowned.

This dedication to Ah’nee’thit surprised her. She banked on it, but still, it surprised her. Was Ah’nee’thit the most important win condition? Perhaps, the only? If so, Camellia could do a lot of damage, just by hanging on to the infant.

Ul’thetos and the Iruedians moved along the horizon, back and forth. From Camellia’s viewpoint, it looked almost comical, but she knew that Ul’thetos tried to reach and search the cave, desperate to find the lost infant.

Camellia lowered her gaze.

She turned back and took Ah’nee’thit through the building. They headed down, and after three tries, they made it back to the ground. Camellia avoided the other ramps and, instead, stayed on the street. She kept moving ahead. She aimed for the spire at the city’s center.

Ah’nee’thit stiffened.

Is that...the origin of all this?

Camellia looked at Ah’nee’thit. She could use the little creature something like a compass. Ah’nee’thit would help her find the webbed being: this mysterious and utterly successful predator.

Camellia trudged deep into the city. She didn’t know how long she walked, but the closer they came to the spire, the stiller Ah’nee’thit became. When the spire towered mere yards ahead, Ah’nee’thit became like a statue in Camellia’s arms.

She sighed and went no further. She knew Ah’nee’thit was a dream, but all she had to do was keep Ah’nee’thit from Ul’thetos, not torture the thing. She looked around and noted a low, spiraling ramp. It would take her to the second floor of a nearby building.

Unwilling to go forward, Camellia climbed up the ramp. She ducked under the webbing. Ah’nee’thit relaxed but only a little.

Camellia found a cool, dark room. Its circular edge split into spiraling pathways. Camellia glanced down the halls, but the center room drew her attention more. A thrall worked on a painting. With bristled brush, the thrall stroked the image onto the floor.

Camellia approached the unfinished work and started. She saw a circle, and at the center, she saw a triangle, equal on all sides. Its blue paint still dried. At every tip, the blue triangle joined to another: one purple, one pink – almost red, and the last green. The pattern dissembled into asymmetry in all of its three sections.

It’s Ul’thetos’ puzzle! It’s also the center of the symbol...the one at Ul’thetos’ beach...the part that Ah’nee’thit left off its cult seal.

Camellia looked down at the baby Ah’nee’thit. Would dream Ah’nee’thit recognize the symbol? Camellia decided to find out.

She walked closer, careful not to disturb the thrall. She held Ah’nee’thit, eyes forward, so the little beast could look at the painting.

What is the meaning of this asymmetry? she asked.

To her surprise, the symbol rippled, and illustrations replaced the cryptic shapes. How these images could be discerned from the shapes, Camellia didn’t know. But, regardless she could see their meaning. Dream Ah’nee’thit had made it clear.

In the purple section, a creature sprawled. Camellia recognized it. It happened to be the one that owned this city. She peered closer. The image showed yellow-green webs stretched over everything. Camellia could just make out individual tentacles, and on each tentacle, little heads wiggled and worked themselves free. The tiny clones dropped to the ground and left the area. The image followed them to open areas of the same planet, where they put down roots and eventually joined with the original creature.

Words scrolled across the purple triangle. One creature; many brains. The first tenet of life.

Budding, Camellia deduced. This is the budding that Alim spoke of.

Camellia took a few steps and found the pink-red section. There, she saw two creatures entwined. They fought with speared tentacles, until one successfully stabbed the other. The stabber drifted its merry way through space. The stabee found a planet, created a nest, and laid eggs. The eggs hatched and latched onto the parent, only to find their ways off planet. They traveled on unsuspecting ships, or when they grew big enough, detached into the atmosphere. The parent stayed and spread. The second tenent of life.

That’s sexual reproduction, Camellia noted.

The green sector showed a scene of infected aliens: thralls. They roamed around a large creature, tended the flesh, and reproduced their own numbers. They lived a shadow of their former lives, but they still lived. The green section was smallest and dimmest. The third tenet of life.

Thralls are a part of their reproduction?

Camellia thought of all the flesh covered beings, who lost their freedom. They helped the creatures grow and looked more like the creature than their former selves. Thralls definitely counted as a tenet of life.

So, this was Ul’thetos’ puzzle. The symbol represents the ways in which they live. Their tenets of life. Why did Ul’thetos want me to know this?

Camellia looked at dream Ah’nee’thit. Ah’nee’thit was a result of Ul’thetos lost battle against another of its kind. Ul’thetos had been left the carrier of eggs, always a precarious situation no matter the species. The course of Ul’thetos’ life made sense now.

When it came to the three tenets, Camellia considered Ul’thetos a failure in all of them. Ul’thetos sent out no buds, due to the cold of Lurren. All of Ul’thetos’ children died, with the exception of Ah’nee’thit, who couldn’t and likely wouldn’t leave the planet. Ul’thetos’ overdid its power over the thralls. How could the thralls replenish themselves, if Ul’thetos killed and covered them so completely? Ul’thetos’ thralls didn’t live even a shadow of their former lives. They just tended the flesh.

But, what about cultists? How do they factor in? Both Ul’thetos and Ah’nee’thit crave cultists, especially Ah’nee’thit.

Ah’nee’thit’s ideal life involved a symbiosis with the Iruedians. At least, that’s what Ah’nee’thit showed Camellia.

Again, Camellia looked down at dream Ah’nee’thit. The real Ah’nee’thit had purged the geometric center from the cult seal. Camellia suspected it might be because the younger creature saw no way to accomplish anything on the plan. Ah’nee’thit wanted thinking thralls – cultists. Ah’nee’thit wanted to create children with Iruedians, and Ah’nee’thit showed no interest in budding.

These creatures have come to Iruedim, and we think that they are the worst thing to happen to us – which is true. But, this planet and the Iruedians are also the worst thing that could have happened to them. They have utterly failed...and now, I must make sure it stays that way.

A siren sounded.

Camellia looked out the arch and saw Ul’thetos doing battle with the chartreuse monster’s thralls. Iruedians also began to battle the thralls, ignoring Ul’thetos for a time.

She’s coming for you, and I can’t let her win.

Camellia held Ah’nee’thit tight, even though the little creature strained and screamed for the parent.

Camellia ran out the opposite side of the building and down the ramp. Her feet touched ground, and she set her sights on the spire. With the speed of a vampire, Camellia ran.

Camellia crossed an open stretch of flesh. She tried to reach the spire but found it so much farther than it had been before. Overhead, a blue moon hung in the sky, and Camellia gazed up at it. In her arms, Ah’nee’thit sat as still as a statue.

Behind Camellia, thralls charged in the opposite direction. They raced towards Ul’thetos and ignored Camellia. Unable to reach the spire, Camellia paused and watched.

Ul’thetos cast spell after spell. From where Camellia stood, she could tell that the spells weren’t real magic. The circles were jumbled and hazy. They were dream spells, but they were powerful weapons for Ul’thetos to win the game, as long as Ul’thetos believed they were.

Magic flashed like fireworks, lit the sky, and showed the twisted buildings and ramps against the backdrop.

The spells lit structures Camellia had missed. The magic light also showed the difference between the alien architecture and the webby tentacles that claimed everything.

Camellia jumped as one of those tentacles snapped down and grabbed a handful of Iruedians. Many wriggled free, but the main group got squashed. The tentacle relaxed.

Ul’thetos avoided the bigger tentacles and squeezed under a bridge. Yellow-green webbing stuck to Ul’thetos, and she ripped it from her body. Now, Ul’thetos crawled and slithered, like an octopus on land, headed straight for Camellia.

Oh no. I need to head to the spire and find the biggest monster.

Camellia turned and stopped. She and Ah’nee’thit stood mere feet from the spire’s base. The flesh, which had been very thin, lay thick here.

Camellia looked down and found herself atop a tentacle. She looked up and up. Huge eyes opened on the spire’s top. They looked down.

Oh, too close. Too close. The spire is the monster.

Camellia backed away and searched for escape. She saw a wall behind the spire. A gate rested in the middle of that wall, and it sat open.

Camellia sprinted for that gate. Wind pulled her hair back. Spongey flesh, beneath her feet, threatened to slow her pace and draw her down. Camellia used her vampiric speed and stayed above it, springing from step to step.

She reached the gate and looked back. Ul’thetos and the larger monster met on the open field. Camellia didn’t stay to watch.

She ran out into the city again. She wound through streets and took care to avoid the curved ramps and doorways. She missed the fight that raged behind her, but she heard shrieks and the ring of magic. At a break in the alleys, Camellia caught a glimpse of the open field. This time, she stopped and watched.

Webbed tentacles curled inward. They hovered over Ul’thetos. Ul’thetos answered with a spell.

Ah’nee’thit shrieked and grasped Camellia’s arm. A shadow fell over them.

Camellia looked up in time to see an enormous, chartreuse tentacle ready to smoosh her and the infant.

With vampiric speed, Camellia darted out from under. She let Ah’nee’thit cling to her left arm and shoulder. The tiny infant complied. Not seeing its parent in sight, it had no choice but to trust Camellia.

She drew her sword, or more aptly, imagined it into being. The sword filled in, piece by piece, and Camellia charged the slow-moving tentacle.

It moved to block her escape. Camellia raised her sword and cut it. Aided by wind magic, her sword cut clean through. Half the tentacle toppled. The other half recoiled.

Camellia ducked under the remaining length and headed out of the city.

A glance back showed Ul’thetos in the grips of two tentacles. Ul’thetos squeezed tight and thin. She pulled herself into a thick string. She slithered free. A torrent of magic circles landed on the enemy tentacles, and the chartreuse spire shrieked. Ul’thetos spotted Camellia and followed.

Oh, no she’s coming, and I have no idea how what to do next.

Camellia ran through a building, glad to find an exit on the other side. She hated to get trapped in a loop.

Camellia reviewed Ul’thetos’ win conditions. One – get the infant creatures off Iruedim. Two – Spread. Three – Create thralls. These were Ul’thetos’ tenets of life. So far, Ul’thetos seemed to be stuck on the first one.

I wonder...

Camellia glanced back and saw the balloon in Ul’thetos’ tentacle. She pondered the parent’s dedication, and as she did, she looked down at dream Ah’nee’thit. The little creature clung to Camellia’s arm but gazed back at its parent. It was too far for Ah’nee’thit make the journey to Ul’thetos, but that might change.

Above their heads and around the city, tentacles loomed. The massive limbs took turns smashing down and blocking their paths.

Camellia cut tentacles and inconvenient webs. She performed her flourishes. Tornadoes dragged tentacles high into the air or pushed them out of her path. Blades of wind cleaved green flesh and scattered webbing.

Finally, Camellia could see the edge of the city.

I can’t keep this up forever. I need to wake up. I need…

A wormhole appeared in an archway. The webs around it shrunk back.

Camellia ducked under a bridge and hid from the searching tentacles. She could dive through the wormhole at any time. That was her way out. But first, she needed to make sure Ul’thetos lost.

Without sound, Camellia sighed. It was so simple. Camellia could have done it all along.

She looked at dream Ah’nee’thit. Its tiny eyes flicked up to hers.

I have to kill it.

Camellia approached the wormhole and found her voice, “I’m sorry. I can’t let you win.”

She felt herself half awake, and although she directed the words to Ah’nee’thit, she intended the apology for Ul’thetos, the real Ul’thetos in its prison that she could sort of see in her half-awake state.

She saw them both: Ah’nee’thit in the dream, Ul’thetos in the prison.

Camellia’s sword disappeared, and she removed Ah’nee’thit from her arm and shoulder. She held the creature out in front of her. It wriggled to come closer and squeaked its plea.

Camellia imagined a scroll. It fluttered into existence and reached the ground, where a deep puddle of flickering decay formed. The puddle bubbled.

Ah’nee’thit looked below and squirmed harder, but Camellia held tight. She took a deep breath and dropped the small monster in. Its tentacles reached for the edges of the puddle, but the puddle was too big.

Ah’nee’thit cried and fell to pieces.

Camellia waited a moment of silence, broken by Ul’thetos’ scream. Then, she ducked through her wormhole.