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“I need more time!” Brand shouted, his deeper panic slamming into her through the bond even as he flooded the Westrealm with more of his power.

“We don’t have time, twig dick!”

Time…

“Shit. There.”

Okthana crested the nearest ridge, murder in every snap of her hurtling mass of shadows.

Lunara recognized her intent even across the distance. Less than a minute until they had a massive fucking problem, but she didn’t know what to do.

Fern’s power rained down around them, thunder booming, the ground shaking. “Wall! Now! She’s after Brand!”

His control slipped and the entire world rocked beneath them. No. Lunara needed to get them out. Get him out. The only thing worse than losing track of Okthana now was her somehow capturing Brand a second⁠—

Time!

The rest of their shouts were lost on her as it clicked into place. “Shitting stars…”

Lunara had no idea whether she’d be able to do it. Amun and Amal weren’t anywhere in sight. Lyriat was battling a horde of dreadbeasts by himself while Vann tried to help Brand hold the land together. Araxis was…

Shite. Only the twins, Magnus, and Fern were close enough—half their group.

Fuck it. She had to try. If it worked, the rest of them would be fine.

Illamiata flared as she yelled, “Hands!”

“Wait—”

Lunara ripped them into the space between, misting across Bordoroth.

Beneath the Great Plateau, the ether was not separate from the Fountain of All Life, but part of it. Made of it. Traveling through was like swimming to the bottom of an endless, merciless lake. Each of them were tested by the water, the currents below tossing their bodies every which way, infinite eyes peering into their deepest parts.

A squeeze, pressure threatening to flatten her skull, and the voices rose, their chorus crying out her name.

They landed in a heap, everyone but her and Fern groaning on the plush, carpeted floor.

The library is outside of time.

It was just as they’d left it. Empty. Gorgeous. So comfortable she could cry for the sight of those pillows and bed pads scattered about, her weary bones begging to sink into them.

“You absolute, fucking genius.” Fern gave her a good shake, cackling. “I could kiss you.”

The others were not nearly as pleased.

Brand and the twins roared their way to standing, Pet snarling in front. The shelves rattled as the four of them went utterly mad—axes swinging, the stone warping, fangs snapping—as if their minds had yet to comprehend that they weren’t in the midst of battle anymore.

Oh fuck.

Talk about a berserker rage.

She and Fern shared a split-second look of absolute panic when books began falling.

They shot in opposite directions, Fern’s curses sounding as they snatched fluttering volumes from the air and snapped the covers shut before they could open and fucking kill someone.

“Bird-brained arseholes!” Fern shrieked, wings working to control a leather-bound tome as big as she was. “Get a hold of yourselves!”

Lunara tried shoving a sense of calm down the bond—utterly useless when she felt anything but.