Professor Leonard Billings stood before Liv, looking worse for wear in the middle of the unfamiliar woods.
“You,” he choked out. His voice sounded rough, as though he hadn’t used it in a while. Or maybe that was a side effect of having a sword pointed at his throat. “How are you here?”
Rafe shot Liv a confused look. “You know this man?”
Liv stared at the professor. The person in front of her looked tired, dirty, broken. His shoulders slumped, and he seemed years older than the first time she’d seen him, sitting behind his desk in a cozy university office filled with books. But no matter the change in his appearance, this was the same Leonard Billings, the one who’d tried to knife her down in a motel room. The one who’d shot at her in a warehouse full of monsters, just before he’d fallen through a portal to another world. This world.
“He tried to kill me,” she finally said. “Twice.”
Rafe tightened the grip on his sword, taking one small step forward. The professor lifted his hands in surrender.
“I am unarmed,” he said again.
“Who is he?” Rafe still addressed Liv, ignoring the professor’s words entirely.
“He’s one of the Knights. Of Valere.”
“Valere?” Rafe shook his head slightly. “I have never heard of such a knight. No knight of any worth in Caelum would attempt to kill a young woman.”
“He’s not from Caelum. He’s from my world.”
“I’m not going to hurt you,” the professor said, his voice raspy, but calm. “And again, I’m unarmed. So I couldn’t even if I wanted to.”
“That’s not super reassuring,” she said back.
The professor kept his hands up in surrender while Rafe checked him for weapons. Billings’s eyes stayed focused on Liv, and she shifted under his gaze. He’d tricked her so completely in San Diego, never letting her see his true self. For someone to lie so easily and so well . . .
“He is unarmed,” Rafe replied.
Liv shook her head. “He’s still dangerous.”
“I understand why you’d think that,” the professor replied. His voice was still rough, and he cleared his throat. “But I was only trying to do my duty as a Knight. Though I failed, and it is probably too late to undo the destruction you’ve caused—”
The professor broke into a fit of coughs, and Liv let his words sink in. Destruction? But before she could ask what he meant, he took a deep breath and continued, “Still I was sworn to try, to protect the Earth—”
“By killing me,” Liv interrupted, heat rising in her throat. “And my brother and sister. And Joe’s brother, and countless children before that?”
The professor gave a small yelp, and Liv realized that Rafe had pushed the knife blade farther into the skin of his throat.
“You kill children?” Rafe asked, his voice suddenly low and threatening.
The sword blade pushed in deeper and the professor made a gurgling noise.
“Wait!” Liv heard herself yelling.
Rafe stopped. He held the blade carefully still. He spoke without turning around, and his voice was strained. “You claim this man murders the young. If that is true, he is no better than a wrath. He deserves to die.”
“Maybe,” Liv said, taking a cautious step forward. Part of her couldn’t believe she was doing this—defending the man who’d tried to kill her and Daisy. But her mind caught on the professor’s words—too late to undo the destruction you caused. And an image sprang forward, the last glimpse she’d seen of LA before she’d gone through the portal. Daisy and Joe staring up at the sky, a sky gone orange in the middle of the day . . . She’d convinced herself that it was her own eyesight playing tricks on her, a side effect of going through the portal. But what if . . . ?
Liv put a hand on Rafe’s shoulder. “But I have some questions for him first. It’s important.”
After a few moments Rafe’s sword arm pulled back a bit, though he kept the blade up and ready.
The professor put a hand up to the small cut on his neck, then directed his eyes to Liv. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me,” she said, crossing her arms. “What did you mean when you said it was too late? What destruction did I cause?”
The professor looked from Liv to the sword in Rafe’s hand, as if weighing his odds. He rubbed his neck, then drew his fingers away, looking at the blood on their tips.
“Water,” he said. “Please, give me water, and I’ll tell you everything. There may be a chance to fix things still.” The professor moved slowly, lowering himself with great care and favoring his right leg. His face twisted into a grimace as he sat down.
“You’re hurt,” Liv said, matter-of-fact, while she retrieved one of the water bottles she’d refilled at a spring earlier in the day and handed it over. He looked at the clearly American-manufactured label before opening the bottle and drinking greedily. Standing three feet away, Rafe watched the professor with a look close to disgust on his face. He still held his sword gripped tight, at the ready.
“It was the portal,” the professor said.
“Joe told me the portals aren’t meant for us. They chew us up and spit us out—that’s what he said. That’s what happened to his broth—to Malquin. Humans have to have wrath blood on them to cross safely.”
“Well, that would have been nice to know,” the professor said with a rueful sigh. “I lost consciousness coming through. When I came to, I was in the middle of a forest. Malquin must have left me for dead. I certainly thought I was dying.” The professor paused before speaking again, taking another sip of water from the bottle. “I couldn’t move. I was alone, but I saw the portal up above me, still a black hole in the sky.”
Liv just barely kept herself from nodding. She knew how jarring it was, to fall out of one world and into another. But she’d had Cedric and Kat there to help her through. To wake up alone . . . She felt a prick of sympathy for the professor. She looked away from his tired, lined face and tried to remember instead how he’d looked as he’d aimed a gun at her chest and fired.
“Why didn’t you just go back through it?” she asked, trying to sound as uncaring as possible.
“I could barely sit up,” he replied. “My ribs are surely broken, and my left leg . . . it won’t move right. I was still trying to stand on my own when I heard someone coming through the woods, and I hid. What I saw . . . those creatures . . .”
“Wraths.”
“I forced myself to get up and put some distance between them and me. Once I was clear of them, I decided to wait until they left so I could go back to the portal, even if going through again really would kill me. But I got turned around in the woods. Couldn’t find it again. And . . . here we are.”
Before Liv could respond, the professor swiveled his head sharply in her direction. “But you can open another portal for me.”
Liv scoffed. “And why the hell would I do that?”
“I have to get back.”
“There’s literally a million other things I would do before helping you,” Liv replied. “You were so against opening portals that you were willing to kill me to stop it from happening. But now that it’s your skin on the line, suddenly you change your mind? Hypocritical much?”
“It’s not for myself alone that I want to return to Earth,” the professor replied, his voice rising. “I have to go back. To save the world.”
This time it was Rafe who scoffed. But Liv couldn’t brush off the professor’s words so easily.
“What are you talking about?”
“Why do you think the Knights of Valere exist at all? I tried to tell you, I tried to explain—” He smacked one hand against the ground in frustration, which sent him into another coughing fit. He hacked as Liv and Rafe waited. Finally, he wiped his mouth with the back of one hand and took another sip of water.
“You said you wanted to keep portals from opening so wraths wouldn’t come to Earth. But it’s a little too late for that.”
“Yes, that is part of the reason,” the professor replied. “Wraths constituted a great threat to humanity a millennium ago, and they are no less dangerous now. But there are other dangers, too. You remember when I told you about the Quelling Theory? In my office?”
“Yes.” Magic had existed on Earth until it became too dangerous—around the time Guardians and wraths alike were banished to Caelum—and then the quelling started, like the Earth’s defense mechanism against magic. “But magic’s not even on Earth anymore,” Liv said. “That’s the whole point, right? It was quelled?”
“It’s not on Earth, no, at least not in any amount that could cause damage. But it is here.”
The professor lifted one of his arms and gestured to the woods around him. Liv followed his gaze, peering into the shadows of the forest. The professor talked about magic as if it were a physical thing on Caelum, but she saw nothing but tree trunks and green-gray grass.
“Magic came through to this world when the first portal was opened, along with the wraths and Guardians and anything tainted with that power,” the professor continued. “And as long as the wall between the two worlds stayed closed, magic was no longer a threat to Earth.”
“And the wall is no longer closed?”
“It’s getting torn apart, little by little,” the professor responded. “Every time a portal opens between Caelum and Earth, more magic slips back into our world. But after all these years, the Earth is no longer used to handling that much magic, and its quelling defenses will soon go into overdrive. It will start fighting back—hard. If it hasn’t already started.”
Liv felt like her head was spinning as she tried to follow the professor’s words. “Fighting back . . . what does that even mean? How can a whole world fight back against something like magic? Something like . . . I mean, what even is it?”
“It’s a force. It’s an invisible thing, but powerful.”
“And it’s bad for us?”
“Not necessarily, it’s . . .” The professor sighed, shaking his head in frustration. “Magic in itself isn’t inherently bad, but our world’s reaction to it will be. Just . . . imagine what happens to your body when it’s infected with a virus. The virus is small, and invisible to the naked eye, yes? But your body still knows it doesn’t belong inside of you, and it starts fighting against it. Your immune system kicks in, and that’s what causes all of the symptoms that make you sick—not the virus, but your own body fighting it.”
Liv tilted her head, thinking. “So the virus is magic. And now that it’s back in our world, the Earth is . . . sneezing?”
“Yes,” the professor exhaled, closing his eyes. “In an incredibly destructive way. Our world will try to push magic back out of itself by any means necessary. And if it continues to do so, it will tear itself apart. Literally.”
“The earthquakes . . . ,” Liv breathed.
“Exactly. And it will only get worse from there.”
“Worse how?” Images of earthquake destruction popped into Liv’s head. Pictures from movies she’d seen and news feeds she’d watched in school. Destroyed houses, floods, great chasms in the ground . . .
The professor shook his head. “I don’t know for sure, because we’ve never seen it happen before. But I do know that the more the Earth fights off the returning magic, the more volatile things will get. That is why it was so necessary to kill the children of the scrolls, before . . . before any of this could happen.”
Liv swallowed hard. She looked over at Rafe, who was looking at the professor with a glare. “You believe this man?”
No, Liv wanted to say. And, maybe. He was a liar, it was true. He’d twisted facts before to get what he wanted. But if there was even the tiniest possibility he was right . . .
“I don’t know.” Her voice came out small.
Rafe twirled the sword in his hand and cocked his head at the professor. He gave a half smile. “I will not pretend to understand all you have spoken of. I know nothing of your world, or of ‘viruses,’ or even the portals, for that matter. But I do know liars. They are often born of desperate men.”
Rafe suddenly stopped twirling the sword.
“And you, old man, are desperate.”
“Rafe, wait,” Liv said, keeping her eyes on the professor. “Is there a way to fix it? If you are telling the truth, I mean?”
The professor took a deep breath. “Possibly.”
Liv shook her head. “That’s not good enough. If you want me to consider taking you back home with me, I’m going to need more than that.”
“There is a man back home,” the professor started. He looked down at the ground, eyebrows knitting together as he spoke. “He’s a Knight, or he once was. We were assigned to the same team and sent to terminate a group of scrolls who had recently been discovered. Three brothers.”
Joe. Liv sucked in a breath.
“But something went wrong that day, as you know. We could only locate two of the brothers, and the eldest escaped. The younger was only five or six. The Knight who was with me, Martin, it was his responsibility to . . . eliminate the target.”
“Eric,” Liv said, gritting her teeth. She could still picture the pain in Joe’s face as he’d told her this same story. “His name was Eric.”
The professor just barely lifted his head, his eyes meeting Liv’s briefly before returning to the ground. “Martin was never the same after that. I tried to make him see that by fulfilling his duty, he’d helped keep the world safe, but . . . he no longer heard me. He started taking extended trips for ‘research,’ talking about crazy theories. He had this idea that there was a way to keep the portals and magic from harming the Earth and ensure that no children of the scrolls would have to die again.”
“Did he find it?”
“I don’t know,” the professor said, sighing. “His behavior got him exiled from the Knights. I never saw him again. But if you take me back to our world, I can find him. I can see if there’s a way to fix what’s happened.”
Liv kept her eyes focused on the professor’s. She wished she could tell, just by looking at him, whether or not he was telling the truth.
The professor gave another frustrated sigh. “The longer we wait, the worse it will get. Martin might be our only chance. And we have to go now.”
“Liv is not going anywhere now,” Rafe said. “We are already in the middle of a mission of our own.”
“What could possibly be more urgent than this?” The professor threw his hands up in the air. In response, Rafe clutched the grip of his sword hilt—a slight movement, but enough to quiet the professor.
“Something you wouldn’t understand.” Liv stared the professor down. He stared right back.
“Is this something more important than saving the entire world?”
Liv thought of Peter, and didn’t respond.
“Liv, I would advise against listening to this man,” Rafe interjected. “You said yourself you did not trust him.”
“I don’t, but . . .” Liv looked to the professor. “Would you come with us to the castle? Once I’ve done what we came here for, we can talk about going home. Together.”
The professor and Rafe voiced their objections over each other.
“We can’t wait that long! It’s imperative—” the professor started.
“He could jeopardize our entire plan—”
Liv held up a hand, and both men fell silent. “Wow, I didn’t think that would actually work. But listen.” She turned to the professor. “I get it, the world is sneezing and the stakes are high—assuming you’re not lying to me. Again. And you”—she looked to Rafe—“if there’s even the slightest chance the professor is telling the truth—and I’m, like, forty percent sure he might be, then we need him. And I won’t leave him behind. Agreed?”
“He will slow us down.”
Liv just stared at him, and Rafe exhaled through his nose.
“I’ll take that as a yes. Now I’m going to get some sleep. Rafe, wake me up in a few hours so you can get some rest, too. We’ll keep heading to the castle tomorrow.”
Liv turned her back to the men and laid her head down on her pack. She wasn’t the least bit tired and doubted she’d get to sleep in this patch of dirt, but this seemed as good a way as any to win the argument.
For now.
A hand shook Liv roughly around the shoulders, and for a brief moment, she thought she was back in one of her foster homes, being woken up for school.
“Liv! Liv, you must rise.”
But none of her foster parents had ever talked like that.
Liv opened her eyes to the see the bright, whitish Caelum sky. A good portion of it was blocked out by Rafe’s face.
“Where is he?” Rafe asked.
Liv stretched her shoulders, which were stiff from sleeping on the ground. “Hmnnh?”
“I woke you a few hours ago to take watch,” Rafe continued. “When I closed my eyes, the old man was here. Now he is gone.”
“Wait . . . what?”
Liv got quickly to her feet, looking around. She remembered now—Rafe stirring her awake in the middle of the night so he could get some rest. She’d leaned up against her pack, taking small sips of water, willing herself to stay awake. . . .
“I fell asleep,” she murmured.
Rafe cursed and ran a hand through his hair.
“The professor was right there.” She pointed to the spot on the ground where the professor had been lying in the night. “He was right there.”
“Well, now he is gone.”
“D-do you think wraths took him?”
Rafe shook his head. “If it was wraths, they would not have left us alive. Or taken the rest of our water supply and the spare knife I kept in my boot.”
This time it was Liv who ran her fingers through her hair. “I’m such an idiot. I can’t believe I let myself fall for his crap, even a little bit. I could kick myself. Or—”
She kicked out at a nearby log on the ground, then yelped in pain.
Rafe just stared at her, a smile fighting its way across his face. “Did that help?”
“No,” she responded, reaching down to rub her toe. “I don’t understand—where would he go? Even if the professor was lying about the end-of-the-world stuff, he still wanted to get home. And I was his best shot to get there.”
Rafe shrugged. “I can barely understand the motivations of madmen here, let alone those from another world entirely.”
“Maybe he thought it would be faster to find the portal he fell through instead of coming with us to the castle first?”
Again, Rafe shrugged. “Possibly. You did tell him how to get back through it safely. With—what did you say was needed? Wrath blood? Maybe that’s why he took my knife.”
“Ugh. I hope I never see that man’s face again.” Liv felt another surge of irritation, but it was more at herself than at the professor.
“Good. I was worried you might get it in your head to go off after him.”
“Definitely not. If he wants to go face a wrath on his own, then fine. He can.” Liv didn’t voice her secret question—was any of what the professor said the night before true? If it was all a lie, it had been a good one—enough to keep her from letting Rafe kill him until he could escape. And if even a small part of it had been true . . . well, she’d worry about that after saving Peter.
Liv looked around their small clearing, then back at Rafe. “So what now?”
He scooped up his sword with one hand and held the other arm out to her.
“Now? We go onward. Unless you have more business to settle with that log.”
“No,” she said, reaching to take his arm. “I think it learned its lesson.”