My brain stuttered on the image for a moment as it tried to dismiss the notion of abnormality, then I forced myself to take a breath and relax and the whole thing zoomed into something that was more than a feeling. It was a certainty that I couldn't explain using words that I knew. It was like I'd have to invent a new language to describe it, or the way a powerful emotion just owns every thought.
Once I dismissed the idea that I needed to be normal, the extraordinary bloomed.
There were so many places to go. Two sets of points shined so brightly, that I nearly had to shade my eyes from their brilliance. I knew immediately who the residences had belonged to, but those were for another day—one fraught with far more peril. For this journey, I needed one like...that one. A dimmer set, but with a steady hue and some sort of jewel at its center.
Constantine, though unable to read the map, had no trouble reading me. “Where are we going?”
“There.” I pointed to a single spot in the jumbled mass, then two more. They were pieces separated in the space of the visual dimensions, but part of the whole in the dimensions of more.
“Specific.”
I shook my head at his gentle mocking. “It's the same way that I can't explain where the Awakenings are until I get there—my magic decodes it and sends an...image. It can't be explained in three dimensions. But I can take you with me.” I looked at him in chagrin. “It's, er, sort of a leap of faith in that way.”
“As are all things with you, darling.” He held out his arm.
“Are you sure?” I asked uncertainly. But I wanted him to go now. Now that the buffet had been offered and opened, I was starving.
“I'm here,” he said, and for Constantine, that was as simple and honest as it got.
I nodded and tucked my arm into his. Guard Rock vaulted onto my shoulder, and I let the book enfold around us.
Chapter Five: The Weight of the Lost
The world became a jumble of flipping pages and a mass of data and emotion. I held tightly to Constantine's arm.
When it expelled us into a decrepit front yard, we both stumbled and nearly fell into a gnarled jumble of cacti seeking to impale trespassers.
“That is a horrible way to travel,” Constantine said, flicking a vine with his foot. He straightened to his full, impressive height, and looked around in disdain. Beyond the dusty, gnarled vines was a twisted mass of landscape—like pieces from a thousand jigsaw puzzles. I could see the faint tremble in his fingers as he flexed them.
The book swooped down; buzzing his head in what could only be a rude, laughing gesture. “Stupid papered beast,” Constantine muttered.
“Whatever, I could feel your magic trying to embrace it.” I elbowed him, feeling better already, knowing I was going to release the knots I'd been building. Knowing I wasn't alone. A simple thought, and yet, powerful.
The guilt at putting another in danger was still there, as always, blubbering in the back of my mind, but it was muted. Constantine was a master at sidestepping the emotion as both purveyor and recipient.
I skirted a vine and barely looked at the twisted edges of reality beyond it as Constantine stabbed a trailing plant with the blade end of his long ribbon that had formed itself into a solid shaft. He, too, felt oddly relieved and content—as if he were feeding off my emotions.
“I think I'm becoming inured to normalcy.” I dodged another carnivorous plant. “I keep expecting the plant life in the First Layer to reach up and grab me when I'm there.”
“Beyond boring, the non-magic world. And my magic was only trying to embrace that blasted book to ensure I survived.”
But I had felt him in the split-second journey—he'd held no fear for himself, his trust in me absolute. He was continuously surveying my mental state, though. I could see the thin threads of his watchfulness, and the way he was allowing himself to be influenced by my contentment and fondness.
Guard Rock jumped off my shoulder and flipped onto the ground. He approached the door on small, fast legs and did something complicated with his pencil. The book landed in front of him. Guard Rock stabbed toward the door. The book shook its pages. The stab-shake communication continued for a few more moments, then Guard Rock thumped his pencil and lifted his arms.
The book swooped forward; grabbing an arm in each of its bottom cornered claws, then lifted him into the broken sky. The book took flight across the pieces of sky—appearing in one shard, then another far to the west, disappearing to reappear in another far to the east, winging off to wherever it went when I was otherwise occupied on an outing.
This was the first time I had seen it take off with Guard Rock dangling in tow, though. I didn't know whether to be amused or concerned.
“There's plenty to fear and anticipate without magic,” I said, as we watched them go. “You just have to look at the First Layer without a magic eye.”
“Boring. That hell-bound volume looks like it’s off to cause mayhem, by the way.”
“Only boring people are bored. And probably.”
“Only tedious people are tedious,” he sniped back.
I shoved him, trying to hide an unanticipated grin, and looked at the wards. There were a complicated series of them, which I'd expected. The unexpected part was how old they were.
“The book took your rock,” Constantine said.
“I noticed.”
“Are you sure? I feel like you might not care if I'm next.”
“A sweeper over the ridge looks hungry.” I pointed vaguely in the carrion animal's direction. “Watch out.” I waved a hand in a dismissive gesture meant to agitate.
“I could be amid a harem right now.”
“You said a harem was too time consuming,” I said, and turned from him, satisfied that his internal emotions about this outing were positive—anticipation, elation, curiosity, dark excitement—and set to work, pulling magic along the wards while also filtering in some of Constantine's so that he could enter as well. As relieved as I was to have him along, my number one priority was his protection.
The wards were old, but the coded set of magic the book had taught me caused the magic to reluctantly give way under the recognition of kinship.
“It really was.” Constantine sighed jadedly, examining the small crumbling house with a critical eye. “You couldn't have chosen a building with indoor plumbing?”
“I'm sure there is a bathroom in there somewhere.”
“A single brass pot in a corner is not a bathroom.”
“If it's the kind that doesn't fight back, it counts.”
We stepped through the door to find a single room. The floor was covered in a thick layer of dust and the room was stripped bare. The structure was more of a small barn, really.
“Not even a pot, Crown.”
I laughed, moving inside. The room might have been empty, but a feeling of kinship and magic permeated the air and put a spring into my step. This had been the right move.
“I regret this already,” Constantine said behind me. “Forget the harem. There was a beautiful woman looking for zero attached strings back in that base—”
“I saw twelve such women. You could tempt a new one every other hour without having to keep any and stray to harem territory. And those were the ones I saw eyeing you in the halls. I'm certain you could pull far more.” I examined the room, looking for a good spot.
“One who was completely willing to—”