14
Lincoln
When the white fire vanishes, I find myself standing on the edge of a lush green forest. Trees buckle and sway with the breeze. Stars swirl overhead, the many tiny blinking bodies speeding in coordinated waves. I’ve seen paintings by the human named Vincent Van Gogh. This scene looks like one of his creations brought to life.
Some part of me screams that this scene should be strange and overwhelming. I brace my stance, waiting for adrenaline to kick in.
That isn’t what happens. My breathing slows. If anything, my new surroundings soothe me.
I scan the great expanse of forest before me. About a half-mile ahead, a thin tendril of blue smoke curls up toward the skies.
A memory appears. After my battle training with Rufus, I’d felt a larger and invisible threat looming against
