going to back out, she downed the concoction in a single gulp.
“Ugh,” she groaned, wincing. “This is worse than scrying potion.”
“Fucking hell,” I muttered, and shot back the cursed mixture in my cup. It
was acerbic and bitter, and had a filthy, moldy taste.
Savannah had already gone pale, and sweat began beading on her face.
“Are you okay?” I slurred.
She forced out a faint laugh as her eyes began to cloud. “I regret
everything. Mostly breakfast.”
“When you wish to wake, envision me sitting as I am, in this tent,” said
Sorsha. “Call out my name and make it your intention to return to me. I’ll
pull you back.”
I nodded even as my thoughts began to drift.
“And do not fall asleep in the Dreamlands. Where you’d go from there, I
don’t know.”
“Okay,” Savannah mumbled. Sorsha guided her down to the ground
beside the fire and poured some of the liquid into the flames so that a fog
filled the chamber. My vision blurred as my limbs grew heavy.
Savannah’s eyes closed. My pulse raced, and I fought the drowsiness that
snaked through my body.
“Stop fighting it, Jaxson,” Sorsha whispered in the distance. “The
Dreamlands has its sights on you, and there’s no backing out now.”
I cursed the woman and tried to crawl to Savannah, but instead, I found
myself lying face down on the coarse rug beneath me. The world slanted, and
darkness enveloped me, carrying me through a wormhole between
dimensions.
A barrage of mutating images flashed through my mind—people and
places I’d long forgotten or never met, shifting and falling into each other
like a kaleidoscope. Possibilities grew from the ground like flowers and sunk
into my thoughts like roots. The pressure in my skull increased, but when my
head felt like it might explode, it stopped.