Silver did not remember walking.
The trees here looked like trees, bark rough, leaves whispering and oonlight filtering down in fractured beams.
But the silence was wrong.
It was padded and sound had been wrapped in cloth.
She turned slowly, pulse steady despite the restlessness clawing under her skin.
“Arthur,” she called once.
Her voice did not echo.
It simply ended.
A slow clap came from somewhere to her right.
“You’re wasting energy.”
Drogo stepped out from behind a tree that had not been there a second ago, or maybe it had.
That was the problem, reality here felt negotiable.
Silver did not step back.
“You touched my mind,” she said evenly.
“I redirected you,” he corrected calmly. “You walked.”
Her jaw tightened.
“Where are we?”
“In between.”
His tone carried no humor
