1

They divided the rest of the team, using the same groups they had employed to scout the eastern and western sides of the realm, with the exception of the women who were given their own hut. Vlad made a last-ditch effort to find a partner for the night, preying on Thao this time. Damon yelled at him to knock it off and pulled the Russian mage into his hut with Armando, Silo, and Lorenzo. Zack volunteered to do guard duty for the rest of the night and settled in near the fire.

Damon would have preferred spending the night alone with Angie. The privacy the huts provided was a rare opportunity for them. But they had both agreed that it was more important they stayed with their respective groups, sharing a belief that the overall team was too fractious. That sacrifice put Damon in a foul mood for the rest of the night. Even the occasional jab from Vlad did nothing to lift his spirits. He watched Lorenzo and Silo as the men fell asleep, trying to decide what to do with the misfits.

2

The veterans handed their extra canvas blankets to the rookies. Most of that went to the women. Harper had seen to that. She saved some for Nevan and Kylah, but the father said he didn’t need the extra coverage, saying that the huts were a tad warm. Harper agreed, but used the extra canvas to cover her body, mostly out of modesty.

The three teammates lay on the grass beds the goblins had built and waited for sleep to come, but after the day’s events, they found it hard to settle. Adrenaline still pumped through their veins.

Noticing that the other two were awake, Harper told Kylah, “You did well today.” The teenager lay on her side, her light brown shoulder-length hair spilling onto a makeshift pillow. “Thank you, Harper. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

The veteran mage smiled then looked at Kylah’s father, who lay very close to the young girl but far enough to respect her boundaries. She caught his eye and they gazed at each other in silence. Even in the almost complete darkness, Harper could see the pain in the man’s eyes, the regret that was tearing him apart. She wondered why he would get involved in a ploy that would carry such a heavy price. Harper knew that Nevan could’ve ended up in prison for his role. Why would he risk all that when he had a young girl to take care of? she wondered. It didn’t make sense. She would never have jeopardized Kylah like that.

“I do have family,” Nevan whispered, and what he said next made Harper think he had read her mind. She knew that the realm’s telepathy function was very fine-tuned; people could only hear what you chose to “broadcast.” So, when Nevan told her that he’d taken part in the illegal activity to raise money for his mother’s cancer operation, Harper wondered if the telepathy function was leaking.

“That’s Kylah’s grandmother, you know,” he said somewhat defensively. “I told my mother I would find a way to get her the surgery”—he paused—“and now she’s going to wonder what happened to us.” He shook his head. “But she’s too sick to cause much of a stir.”

Harper told him she was sorry, and her heart did indeed ache for Nevan and his predicament. She cursed Harris for having taken advantage of other people’s desperation, and she cursed Cloud Nine for making it worse. She wondered how many of the teammates were in similar situations. Just pawns for the rich and powerf—

“Harper, what happened to the survivors?”

Kylah’s question jarred her from her thoughts. She looked at the teenager, who stared back intensely.

“You… you mean the Jennings?”

Kylah nodded.

Harper glanced at her father, and he subtly nodded to her so she continued “The member who defected from our team killed them.”

Kylah had no visible reaction to the news. “You mean that guy, Brett? Why would he do that?”

The veteran mage sighed. “He became fixated on a member of our team, but I think there was something wrong with him already at that point.” She paused. “The realms and the way it intensifies emotions… I think that just put him over the edge.”

Kylah nodded. “I haven’t noticed the emotional thing affecting me.”

Harper grunted. “Maybe it’s different for you because you’re younger.” She gazed at Nevan to see if he’d contribute to the conversation, but he seemed to be reflecting deeply on what they had said. I’m sure he has been impacted by the emotional effect, the veteran mage thought.

They grew quiet, and Harper thought the discussion was over. She took a deep breath, trying to will herself to sleep. Slowly, her heart rate lowered, and her body relaxed. Her eyelids were just starting to flutter when Kylah broke through the silence.

“And he’s still out there?” she asked.

Harper opened her eyes and saw the young girl focused on her again. “Yes. I believe he’s still out there somewhere.”

3

“Emma, try not to worry,” Jordan prodded. “It’s not like the glitch physically touched you.”

She didn’t respond. That had been the case for most of their time in the hut. The only words Emma had said were, “This place smells of goblin.” After that, she had completely shut down again.

They had undressed fully, finding the hut too warm. Spooning on a collection of beds in the center, their body temperatures dropped slightly, and Jordan stretched a canvas blanket over them. He pulled her close, trying to comfort her. He wanted to reassure her, but she was a blank wall, not even reacting to his touch.

Her lack of communication frustrated Jordan. It was not like he wasn’t dealing with his own issues. He had to face the ever-growing prospect that his father was dead and gone. Not that he had a right to moan about that too much. His relationship with Will had always been mercurial, and he had to admit that there were times where he actively hated his father. But Jordan had lost Ethan just the day before, too.

And now this. Emma was almost catatonic. And she wasn’t the type of person to just give up and give in to her fears. Then Jordan’s own fears rose in his throat like a malignant serpent. Maybe the glitch has infected her. Is that what I’m witnessing right now?

Dread exploded in Jordan’s consciousness. My god. What if it’s changing her? Then, on the tail of that last thought. It could be transferring to me! A sudden and intense urge to jump away from Emma steamrolled through Jordan’s mind. He wanted to run from her infection and save himself. It took all his willpower to remain on the bed, holding her. Even though he loved Emma, his fight-or-flight response went into overdrive, wanting to tear him away from the possible threat. But he fought against it.

He closed his eyes and tried to calm himself, but instead was tormented by his past. He could see the burning wreck of the helicopter and the dismembered body parts that had littered that African mountainside. The rocky terrain had shone a ghastly crimson from the combination of the red flames and the blood. He remembered seeing a severed arm perched on a boulder and how the blood had dripped down—

Jordan opened his eyes and trembled. He started shivering, but Emma didn’t seem to notice. After his chopper had gone down in Nigeria, his psychiatrist had informed him that he suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder. As a result, Jordan frequently woke up from nightmares, and his over-sensitized nervous system was often triggered by events. Anything that sounded like a gunshot, or any threat of imminent danger would send him into an autonomic panic response that would usually last for hours. Jordan had told no one, but he would often fall into these responses every time Harper fired a Fire Bullet. His teammates hadn’t noticed because—on those occasions—they were usually engaged in battle.

Now, as he realized he was being triggered, he drew Emma closer to him. He could feel his parasympathetic system taking over as he held her close to his body, both for her sake, and now his as well.

Jordan took a deep breath. A trickle of sweat streamed down his back, tickling him, and he realized that his body was covered with a thick layer of perspiration. My panic response, he thought grimly.

He squeezed Emma. Her blonde hair brushed against his face, and he could smell her familiar scent. “Baby, everything will be alright,” he whispered, trying to reassure her. “You’ll wake up tomorrow and everything will be fine.”

Emma remained motionless and did not respond.