They flew for what seemed an age, steadily gaining altitude. Jordan shook with cold, her lips chapped and blue, her fingers numb around the pointed spine she clung to. The dragon’s flight was rhythmic, lulling her, the cold air dulling her mind. Norae had to reach forward more than once to jolt her awake, lest she fall.

But at last, the dragon began to descend in a slow spiral. Its wings billowed, parachuting, down, down, until it landed with surprising grace in a flurry of snow. Thin mountain air crackled around them, drawing gouts of steam from their tight lips. The beast dipped its shoulder for them to slide from its back. Norae descended first, reached up to help Jordan, who fell, half-frozen, into her clumsy catch. No sooner had their boots sunk into the glittering snow, than a plume of smoke erupted around the dragon. Jordan threw up her hands to shield her face, Norae’s fist tightened around her glaive, and the smoke faded to reveal a cloaked Witchkin.

She faced them with her hands tucked beneath the cuffs of their opposite sleeves, waiting. Norae glanced at Jordan, hefting her glaive in readiness. But a cry from Jordan startled her into holding her ground.

“Grandma!” Jordan rushed forward, crushing her in a bear hug, “H-how…?”

Esadora Bal'Talanor smiled. She looped an arm around Jordan’s shoulders, turning her. “Come on, dearie, let’s get inside first. You’re bloody freezing.”

She bundled Jordan forward, caught Norae’s bewildered eye, nodded for her and Thallo to follow. With quiet steps over muffling snow, she steered her granddaughter through a stand of frosted trees towards the rising mountainside. Beyond, tucked into a natural stone archway in the side of the peak, grand wooden doors loomed, silvered by frost, studded by moonlight. Engraved across them was a proud gryphon, holding a stem of Pyr Lys flowers in its beak. Its paint glimmered even in the dark. As they approached, the doors swung open of their own accord, hinges hissing with years of disuse. Esadora ushered them all inside, and the doors swung closed once more.

Darkness descended.

Jordan caught her breath, but then lumostones winked alight in pairs, stretching away down a long, carpeted corridor. Jordan and Norae blinked in the sudden shift of illumination.

“What is this place?” Jordan asked, staring.

“Queenhaven,” Esadora replied.

It was a secret refuge of magnificent proportions, but the visitors hardly had a chance to take in the unexpected grandeur concealed on the inside of the mountain. Esadora swept them along, winding through a maze of passageways. At last, they turned into a small kitchen. Esadora waved her hand at the empty hearth, and a roaring fire leapt to life, filling the room with cosy warmth. She muttered words under her breath, and a kettle appeared over the fire, steaming with immediate heat. Three mugs filled themselves with fragrant herbs, and Esadora filled them with a ladle from the kettle. She set them aside to brew, conjured another bowl, and offered Thallo a large helping of steaming mash. The gryphon chirped in delight and lay down by the fire with it clasped between her claws, picking at it happily. The Worldkin gestured for the girls to make themselves comfortable at the beautiful wooden table; Norae hesitated, and then obeyed with unexpected reverence. Jordan cast her a sideways glance as she sat down opposite.

“Here,” Esadora said, placing steaming mugs down in front of them. “Devadaru tea – this will warm you right up.”

She sat, fixing her gaze on the Callkin, and an expression of curiosity graced her regal features. “You are Norae Dre’Cor, if I am not mistaken?”

“Aye, Majesty,” Norae affirmed shyly. In the light of the interior, she recognised Esadora from the many portraits that used to grace the Palace. She ducked her head, ears burning at being spoken to by a World Queen.

“Majesty?” Jordan exclaimed.

“Obviously,” Norae hissed sideways.

Esadora smiled. “You do not have to call me Majesty, child, for I am no longer a Queen. Esadora will do.”

“Aye, Majesty,” Norae responded, and then averted her gaze in embarrassment.

Esadora's lips quirked. “As you will. Thank you, for heeding my message in the square. I had hoped you might hear me, and I am glad I was not wrong.”

“Aye, Majesty,” Norae said. She bit at her tongue, plunged on. “But… how could hear? Witchkin not telepathic…”

Esadora nodded with amused patience. “Of course they are not. But... I was not in the guise of a Witchkin, was I?”

Norae opened her mouth to utter another question, closed it in the face of too many plunging through her mind at once. Esadora winked at her before she could collect her thoughts and turned her attention to her granddaughter.

True happiness lit her soft smile as she reached out to pat Jordan’s shoulder. “Now, Jordan... You gave me a hell of a scare, my girl.”

Jordan dipped her chin, abashed. “I’m so sorry, Grandma – I didn’t mean to end up here, it just… sort of... happened.”

Esadora raised her eyebrows. “Oh, it was no coincidence – that had Calyx written all over it. And she botched it, losing you in the Betwixt like that!”

“Betwixt…?”

Jordan frowned, remembering the crushing darkness that had engulfed her after she had ducked under the cedar arch. She shuddered.

Esadora watched her with quiet curiosity. “However did you get out, dearie?”

“It was so dark, but there were like… windows?” She paused, and Esadora nodded that she understood the comparison. “I, uh, missed the first one, but somehow I managed to catch the edge of the next one. I ended up in a desert above that city – what was it?”

“Nova Azuros,” Norae murmured when she looked to her for clarification.

“Yes, Nova Azuros. That’s where I found Norae.”

“Found you, you mean,” Norae smirked, but she caught Esadora’s eye and sobered. “Did not hurt, Majesty, swear…”

Esadora ignored her, patted Jordan’s arm. “You are quite something, dearie. I have never heard of an untrained Witchkin surviving Betwixt.”

She paused to wipe away a stray tear, and Jordan gave a lopsided smile.

“I didn’t mean to worry you, Grandma.”

Esadora nodded, sniffed.

“Grandma…” Jordan pressed into the pause, “How are you here? And… the dragon thing…?”

Esadora sighed. “There is so much you don’t know, child. I had hoped to keep it from you, to spare you, but... I should not have underestimated Calyx.”

“Wait,” Jordan interjected with a frown, “I thought Calyx was one of the good guys?”

Esadora sipped at her tea, amused. “There is no such thing as ‘the good guys’, Jordan – that is the stuff of fairy tales. People are far more complicated, and Calyx has made her share of mistakes.” She cleared her throat, set her tea aside. “As for how I am here – I followed through the portal. I tried to stop you, but it was too late. I was too far away.”

“How the hell did you know it was a portal?”

Esadora rolled her eyes at the accusation in her tone. “I didn’t know, dearie, I suspected. I set up close to the site years ago when I was still trying to get back to Andoherra – long before you arrived.” She tapped her finger against her lips, musing. “In hindsight, we should have moved… But it was the last link I had to Andoherra, and I couldn’t bear to.”

She broke off as she caught sight of the mistrust etched on Jordan’s face.

Jordan folded her arms, jaw set.

“You knew! You knew, and you lied to me…! You told me my visions were nothing more than dreams!”

Esadora met her gaze, calm, and level. “Yes, child, I knew. I dreaded your magic’s awakening all your life, hoped it might remain dormant on Earth, as mine had become.”

Jordan leapt to her feet, fisting her hands at her sides. “Why, Grandma...? How could you lie to me!”

“Because I did not want to burden you with false hopes for a homeland we could not return to. Better to remain happy in ignorance – trust me. I tried, Jordan, when you were a child, to bring you home, to reclaim your throne and avenge your mother… But, thanks to Earth’s dampening effect on my power, I could not open the portal. I never dreamed that your damned magic might.”

Jordan ground her teeth. “You could have told me; you could have said something. Especially when I started having those dreams! I thought I was going crazy!”

“I was going to,” Esadora sighed. “I just hadn’t figured out how, yet... Come now, Jordan, if you hadn’t seen what you’ve now seen, would you have believed me?”

Jordan tapped her foot, blew out her breath in an unhappy sigh. “No, I suppose not. I’d have thought you were crazy.”

Esadora half-raised an eyebrow, and Jordan relented. She sat down, sipped at her untouched tea, widened her eyes at the pleasant, spicy taste. She swished it around her mouth and swallowed thoughtfully.

“Well,” she pouted, “You’re not forgiven, but I can see your point, I suppose. Will you at least tell me how we ended up on Earth in the first place? The story doesn’t add up.”

Esadora nodded over an inaudible sigh of relief. “Calyx brought you – an accident, I believe. You would have to ask her the full story… I was already there, trapped for decades – an accident, too, but that’s a story for another time.” She sipped, turned her thoughts away from unpleasant memories. “I was nearby when Calyx burst out of the Beyond – the extension of Betwixt between the worlds. It was pure coincidence, but I took it as fate. Of course, I recognised Calyx, and there was no doubt who you must be.”

She paused, lips thin, eyes hard.

“The simple fact that the Lat’Nemele had appeared on Earth with you told me that she had failed in her sacred duty. She was Guardian to your mother, and Asbeth... well… it is a crime I cannot forgive. So, I took you into my care, banished her from our lives. She never really went away, hovering in our shadow as she learned to survive without her magic. But I let her be – she was no threat, not without her power.” She clicked her tongue, incensed. “Should have known she’d find a way – tenacious, Lat’Nemele. They never cease, not until the hunt is finished.”

“Well, she managed, and now I’m here.” Jordan met Esadora’s gaze. “So now what?”

“We’ll wait for her to re-join us, and then we’ll go home.”

“Home? And where is that, exactly?”

“Earth, of course.”

Jordan’s face clouded. “That’s not home, Grandma. We belong here.”

Esadora leaned forward over her mug. “We do not, Jordan. We must return to Earth before the whole of Andoherra bloody collapses.”

Jordan leapt to her feet, outraged. “I can’t leave! I saw what will happen if I don’t take my rightful place as Queen – I saw my mother! She spoke to me! She told me I have to save this world!”

“That’s enough Jordan,” Esadora said, her voice low, thick with warning, “This is not a negotiation.”

“A negotiation?” Jordan sputtered. “Damn right it’s not! The visions I’ve had have been dead-accurate so far. I can’t live with myself knowing that I let this world – our world – destroy itself! Not knowing that I’m the one person who can stop it!”

Esadora’s lips tightened. She stood, and Jordan’s protests died in her throat. She raised herself up to her full height, glittering with cold fury. “I don’t suppose your dear mother told you what would happen if you did take the Throne…?”

Jordan’s ears flamed in the face of her grandmother’s ire. “Well, no... But she showed me what would happen if I did not...”

Esadora rounded the table, loomed over Jordan. The younger woman shrank back from the heat in her eyes.

“It has been twenty years since the world of Andoherra was last fed,” Esadora said. She reached out with icy fingers to tuck a strand of lavender hair behind Jordan’s ear. “If you were to sit upon the Throne now… it would bleed you dry.”

Jordan’s face paled in confused fear, her mouth opened and closed in silence. She shivered, and her skin turned pale as winter snow.

“Do you understand what I am saying?” Esadora asked.

She tucked one fingertip against the bottom of Jordan’s chin, forcing her granddaughter to meet her gaze.

“If you take the Throne, child… you will die.”