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“My turn.” Taking a deep breath, Truly took a different approach. Instead of walking in as the gargoyle had done, she ramped into a run and sliced into the glow. A second before she vanished, she looked over her shoulder and yelled, “You coming?”
Westvane stared at the spot where she disappeared. He inhaled deep, held the breath until his lungs began to ache, then exhaled hard and started the countdown.
One. Two. Three…
Go.
With one last glance at the dead octopus, Westvane stepped into the distortion, praying the time warp dropped him, not only safely, but in the same location as the irksome Door Master he’d sworn to protect.
40
A MILLION PIECES
Truly wished she’d paid more attention in school. If she had, the science-rooted menace holding her in its grip would’ve made more sense. Calculating the angles, understanding the laws of physics, seemed important right now. A skill that would increase her chances of making it out alive. But had she paid attention? No, of course not. She’d been too busy doodling in her textbook to listen to Mr. Armitage talk about, well… whatever he was attempting to teach her.
Now she was paying for it. Being hurled down a corkscrew inside a space-time continuum at the speed of light. With no idea how to control her wild flight down the tunnel.
Azalea had done her best to explain.
Truly thought she understood.
Nothing prepared her for the reality.
The mind-blurring velocity turned her inside out. She was being pulled and pushed at the same time. Millions of cosmic threads stretched her thin. Half moved one way, half went the other, whipping around corners, only to fling her out the other side. She felt like an astronaut without a space suit. Weightless. Exposed to the elements. Stardust clogging her lungs. Any moment now, she’d implode, end up in fragments, smeared along the interior of the corkscrew.
Not part of the plan — hers or anyone else’s.
Being torn into pieces — and jettisoned as human confetti — defeated the purpose of entering the vortex in the first place. Dead on arrival wasn’t part of the deal. Montrose would never forgive her. And Westvane? The mangled parts of him would no doubt rally, putting what remained of him back together long enough to kill what little remained of her.
Truly closed her eyes as the tunnel twisted into another spiral.
Her body spun the opposite way. She bumped into the side wall. Pain blazed up her side, jabbing her in the ribs.
Curled in a ball, knees to chest, she pressed her face to the tops of her thighs. Bright colors blazed across the smooth walls. The strobing effect pierced through her closed lids, stabbing into her skull. Her head started to ache. She gave voice to her frustration, and baring her teeth, screamed at the time warp.
She wanted the corkscrew to let her go. Spit her out. Allow her to abandon ship. Or simply throw her overboard.
Anything. Everything. Just as long as the world stopped spinning.
The tube raced on instead, spiraling into space. Her stomach pitched. Her mind continued to scream. She tucked in tighter, caving in, heaving out, trying to go with the flow. Fighting the violent flight wouldn’t help. She was a part of it now. No way out as the strings pulled and the velocity increased. The air thinned as the tunnel burned hotter. Bile sloshed up the back of her throat. The time warp was too much — too much speed, too long of a trip, too much heat for her to handle. And still, the whirling corkscrew blazed, making sweat bead on her skin.
Individual droplets evaporated, only to be replaced by more, sucking water out through her pores. Thirst set in. Dizziness followed. Truly sucked in a desperate breath. She couldn’t get enough oxygen. Every breath felt thin, and her lungs hurt from working too hard.
Hollowed out, Truly peeked from between her bent knees, trying to see ahead of her. A mistake. She made a terrible mistake trusting Azalea.
The woman didn’t know what she’d been talking about. Had she left Weeping Hollow once since arriving in Azlandia? Had she ever traveled inside the time warp? Did she understand the laws of physics? Seemed a good guess to assumeno. Azalea lived happily inside the Hollow, content under the canopy of protection the forest provided. No reason for her to leave, and, given that incontrovertible fact, Truly wondered if —
The mind-bending velocity slowed.
Punishing heat dropped away. Fresh air rolled in to replace it.
Truly inhaled a raspy breath, filling her lungs as vapor blew in around her. Surrounded by cool mist, she slid through time, suspended in animation before crashing into a barrier. The surface funneled outward. A whirlpool swirled around her. Water splashed as she broke through the other side.
Flipping end over end, she searched for a point of reference. Greenery blurred into an undefinable landscape, tumbling with her — green, then blue, splotches of brown and —
An arm snapped around her waist.
She slammed into someone. He grunted. The collusion lifted both of them off the ground. Tangled up with a big body, Truly started tumbling again. Controlling the spin, he tucked her into the cove of his arms. The frayed lines of her brain uncrossed. Realization struck — Westvane. What was happening? She’d entered the time warp before him. How had he made it out the other side before her?
