Chapter 32: The Portal

Nathan collected the starlings and picked up the oval mirror, and another prompt popped up—Attune to the portal?

Along with the prompt came a line of explanatory text.

Portal: a tool connecting the Hourbound Grove and the main world. Requires starlings to activate; each teleport consumes one.

Nathan was overjoyed beyond all expectation, thinking privately: "This mirror is a portal? I can get in and out of this Between! Then what have I got to worry about? Even without Sebastian, I can leave this place. I've got 2,300 starlings—at one trip in and out a day, I could keep at it for three or four years. And this abandoned Between is actually called the Hourbound Grove... that's quite the grand name..."

Interesting as this Between was getting, Nathan didn't want to linger. He'd come to Elderrow straight after school; the special training plus the Umbral Turning had eaten a big chunk of time, then several more hours in the Between—by now who knew how late it was. If he didn't get home soon, there was no telling how worried Mom would be.

Nathan tried sliding his gold sigil ring into the slot on the portal's side—a perfect fit—and the mirror immediately prompted him: did he agree to deduct one starling?

He tapped yes, muttering with some regret: "No time today. Next time I'm definitely staying longer."

The portal deducted the starling and projected a six-and-a-half-foot golden ring of light.

Nathan loosened up his arms, a little sore from all the hard use, and stepped into the portal.

One step, and he was walking out the other side of the portal, squinting against the evening's slanting sun. Outside it was still afternoon hours—the very time he'd first entered the Between. Time in the Between apparently didn't match time outside; it had stayed frozen at the instant he went in. He was still on Elderrow, but at the far opposite end, not by the yew-wood house.

Nathan hesitated a moment, then walked the length of Elderrow all the way to the yew-wood house.

His bronze key was long gone—stolen by Sebastian or swallowed by the Star-Swallowing Form, who knew. Luckily he no longer needed it: he simply dissolved into a mass of black light, passed through the wicker fence, and entered the courtyard.

Sebastian was no longer in the yew-wood house. The B&O A2 Bluetooth speaker he always listened to still sat on the windowsill, and the coffee he drank was still in its usual spot—as if their owner hadn't gone far.

Nathan breathed a sigh of relief. He had no idea why Sebastian, having promised to wait twenty-four hours, hadn't stayed.

His strength had grown again, and he no longer feared the Order of the Deathless acolyte all that much.

Still, as far as Nathan was concerned, never seeing the man's face again would obviously be best.

Nathan didn't linger long in the yew-wood house and hurried home—today had run way too late as it was. When he got there, he once again found Mom wasn't back yet. She only came through the door half an hour after he got home, worn to the bone. Nathan just assumed she'd been working overtime; apart from a small sigh of relief at knowing he wouldn't get chewed out, he didn't think much of it, and obediently went to do his homework.

Entirely too much had happened today. Physically, Nathan wasn't tired; mentally, he was worn down to the bone.

Homework done and dinner eaten with Mom, he went back to his room, lay down on his bed, and replayed the day's events—more and more certain this was not the life he wanted.

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What he liked were the quiet days!

Nathan laced his hands behind his head and murmured to himself: "Maybe! Maybe this wild stretch of life is over for good! Starting tomorrow, everything goes back to the way it was."

...

Nathan looked for all the world like he was spacing out!

In fact, he was staring at the Comet-Gem Mantis's control light-screen, analyzing data—until a hand clapped him on the shoulder, and only then did he unhurriedly put the screen away.

A girl's breathless voice called at his ear: "Nathan! Ms. Langley wants you. You okay?"

Nathan smiled faintly. "I'm fine!"

He hesitated, then asked: "Did you see anything in front of me?"

The girl who'd tapped his shoulder was Primrose, the class's academic rep, and also Isolde's best friend. She and Nathan had barely any interaction—just ordinary classmates—but lately she seemed to have a bone to pick with him; she'd all but stopped talking to him, and turned cold as ice.

Primrose said, slightly hesitant: "There's nothing in front of you?"

Nathan knew perfectly well that ordinary people couldn't see the war-beast's pop-up control screen, but he asked anyway—only relaxing once he'd confirmed Primrose genuinely saw nothing. He shouldered his bag and headed for the classroom building. Primrose was somewhat worried but had no idea what to say to him; after a beat of hesitation, she followed.

Nathan didn't look back at all—his head was full of the Between business.

Since that day, Sebastian had never shown himself again, and Nathan's life had gradually settled back into calm. These past two days he'd even played in two basketball games—friendlies against the teams of two other middle schools, warm-ups ahead of the national tournament. In both games Nathan put on a show: on his inhuman physical gifts alone, without so much as a tenth of his real strength, he steamrolled the whole court, absolutely unstoppable.

Life had gone calm again, but Nathan still thought about the abandoned Between on Elderrow—he just hadn't gone back in.

Nathan had no idea why his homeroom teacher, Ms. Langley, had sent Primrose to fetch him to her office. When he pushed open the staff-room door and saw the furious look on her face, he was frankly baffled.

Ms. Langley was barely into her thirties, dressed very conservatively, with black-rimmed glasses that made her look a good deal older than her years. She fixed Nathan with a look—the furious-at-a-student-for-wasting-his-potential kind—and said: "You're a ninth grader now. How many times have I told you—school comes first? How did this happen? And someone got photos?"

Nathan was still lost, but Ms. Langley didn't leave him guessing—she slapped a stack of photos down on the desk and demanded sharply: "Explain to me how you and Wren ended up dating."

Nathan scanned the photos on the desk—they were all shots of him and Wren together, several dozen in all.

What went through his head wasn't "how did someone get these shots," but... "Have I really been that close with Wren? There's literally no corner of this campus we two haven't left footprints in?"

Wren's true face immediately surfaced in Nathan's mind.

The bloodborn girl—ethereally lovely, equally enchanting smiling or pouting—seemed to come alive in his memory, her voice and face so vivid, so deeply etched.

And he actually felt a little smug about it, a little pleased with himself.