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The energy flowed from me, a shimmering veil that began to craft itself into form.
Right there, in the wall behind Uhah’s hospital bed, I summoned a doorway.
Hidden, secret, and ours.
It wasn’t part of Ikmal’s plans, nor a product of Uhah’s nightmares.
It was a product of our shared will to escape.
Tix watched, his eyes wide with wonder and shock. “Grace,” he whispered, awed. “What did you… How did you—?”
I leaned heavily against him, the sheer effort of manifesting the door having drained me. “It’s something I began to feel inside me, growing. I can’t describe it… but it’s like untapped power that was always there. I just never had the courage to tap into it before.”
He studied the door, his hand brushing over its surface. “You’re incredible,” he murmured, his fingers tracing the intricately crafted handle and symbols that adorned the surface. “You just created our way out. We have a chance now, Grace.”
I nodded weakly. “We just need an excuse to be placed in the hospital now.”
A mischievous glint appeared in Tix’s eyes, the weight of our previous despair suddenly lightened by the promise of escape. “Well,” he grinned, his fingers caressing my cheek, “I believe I have the perfect idea for that.”
25
TIX
I could feel the soft vibrations of the dreamworld around us, Grace’s hand clasped in mine, each pulse a testament to our resilience.
We had taken refuge here, hidden amidst the sea of thoughts, dreams, and memories, far from the shackles and confines of the real world.
I marveled at the ethereal beauty that surrounded us.
It was as if time was suspended, and we floated in a liminal space between consciousness and oblivion.
A realm where the concept of minutes or hours became muddled.
Even though I knew it was dangerous, even potentially deadly, to remain disconnected from our bodies for too long, there was a certain serenity in being here with Grace, away from the chaos of our reality.
Yet, I couldn’t shake off the niggling worry in the back of my mind, wondering when our absence would be discovered.
Grace, ever the intuitive one, seemed to sense my unease.
She pressed her forehead against mine, her warmth flooding through me. “It’s okay, Tix,” she whispered, her voice like a melodious lullaby. “Everything will be okay.”
Just as the words left her lips, the faint echo of footsteps reached us.
We watched, hidden behind the diaphanous veil of the dream, as guards from the waking world entered our cell.
Their eyes darted around, their expressions a mix of confusion and concern.
“There he is,” one of them growled, approaching our bedside. “Hey. Loverboy. You know the rules.”
“And the girl from the Prize Pool? She’s here too,” the other chimed in, scratching his head.
They prodded us before slapping my cheek with an open hand.
I felt the numbed sting of it even from the dreamworld.
When my physical body didn’t react — other than the blood rushing at the impact site — the two guards shared a look.
Moments later, a doctor was hastily ushered in, his instruments glittering ominously under the dim lights.
