Then, through the rift, I could see it.
The Otherworld.
It wasn’t what I’d expected. I’d pictured something alien and hostile—twisted and gnarled trees, a sickly, unnatural light. But what lay beyond the portal looked almost normal at first glance. Just another forest, like the one we stood in—though darker and denser, the trees taller and older. The colors were all wrong, though. Too vivid, as if someone had turned the saturation all the way up. The greens were almost neon and the sky—what little I could see of it through the canopy—was a deep, bruised grayish-blue. If my vision had been human, it probably would’ve been purple. The moon was blindingly bright through the trees. The shadows were wrong, too—inky black and thick.
And there was something moving in them.
“Everyone, hold the spell until it stabilizes!” Tatiana commanded, her voice strained. Sweat beaded on her forehead. “We need to anchor it to—”
She didn’t get the chance to finish.
The Algea shot through the portal like a bullet.
It was faster than I remembered. One moment the rift was empty. The next, the creature was there, its tattered white gown billowing around it, its elongated face twisted into a grotesquegrin. Its black eyes were fixed on Poppy, as if it had immediately identified her as the most powerful piece on the board.
The wolf within me lunged forward, all instinct and fury, and I threw myself between the Algea and the witch.
But my claws raked the empty air.
The creature flickered—there, then gone.
Suddenly ten feet to the left, it let out that same bone-chilling laugh I remembered from our first encounter, the sound of it scraping against my nerves like broken glass.
Lee and Hunter, in wolf form, circled to flank it.
Lacey darted in from the right, the axe gripped tightly in her hands.
But the Algea was too fast. It phased through Lee’s lunge, solidified just long enough to rake its claws along Hunter’s side, wrenching a yelp of agony from him. Then it vanished again before Lacey could swing her axe.
Hunter, in wolf form, staggered back, blood matting his fur. The wounds were deep.
“Don’t let it touch you!” I barked, my voice a guttural snarl, deeper than it usually was.
The witches didn’t break their chant. I understood why: theycouldn’t. They hadn’t been able to anchor the spell to make it ongoing. If they stopped now, the portal would collapse and Sally would be lost to us forever. This was our one chance to save her.
Tatiana’s face was pale and tight with strain. Wynn was swaying dangerously on her feet. Poppy’s hands shook, a crackling stream of power pouring from them. The two other witches were struggling even worse.
As I watched, one of them suddenly fell to her knees, gasping, her face drained of color, and then hit the ground hard. She didn’t get back up.
Tatiana shot her a horrified look but didn’t stop chanting.
The Algea was more intelligent than I had ever given it credit for. It apparently understood that the witches were the ones responsible for disturbing it. And that Poppy was doing most of the heavy lifting. It hissed in fury and rounded on the redheaded witch again.
Simone moved in a blur, appearing directly in the Algea’s path, one gloved hand outstretched, a gleaming dagger clutched in it. The Algea slammed straight into the blade, which went deep into its shoulder.
The creature screamed and recoiled, its semi-corporeal form flickering wildly, the wound glowing as if packed with embers—which likely meant her knife was pure silver.
Simone’s eyes narrowed at the Algea as she yanked the blade out. “Stay away from my witch!”
The monster hissed and went after Wynn instead, who didn’t look so good. Her skin was ashen and her forehead was beaded with sweat.
In the same instant, on the other side of the circle, another of the witches collapsed, her hands clutched to her chest. The portal shimmered, going out of focus before stabilizing again.
Nathaniel intercepted the Algea in the air, slamming into it and driving it to the ground. His hands closed around its throat. Or tried to, at least.
The Algea phased away again, slipping through his grip like smoke.
It reappeared behind Wynn, apparently fixed on killing the witches still holding the spell.
