Page 23 of Triadic

It was thus from that connection that I felt something otherworldly and strange touch him—the briefest of flashes, vanishing so quickly I immediately doubted my perception, wondering whether I'd brushed against Marit, and it had simply felt strange.

But then Peter's presence stepped out of the material world and into the subtle planes, and the shift was so jarring I gasped loud enough it ricocheted like a thunderbolt through the quiet.

"Corbi?" Marit whispered, straight in my ear.

But I could not bring Peter back. It was as if we had been talking, but suddenly he was on the other side of a thick door and could no longer hear me, nor could I decipher what he was trying to say.

Panic surged through me, and I realized I was in a large pitch-dark room filled with bodies and with no way out.

"Get me out of here, now," I ordered Marit, my whisper useless because everyone heard.

Marit spoke soothingly, his hand searching for mine. "Let's just take a deep breath, Corbi."

"Now," I insisted. "Peter's in danger."

It only took him a second to process that, then he grabbed my arm and spoke clearly to the monks around us. "Make a path, please, help us get through."

We couldn't see the floor, but dozens of hands touched our shoulders and carefully moved us past, parting the way through the crowd even in the darkness. Marit fumbled with the door, and we spilled out, my vision dancing with black spots as the candles in the hallway came into view.

Adrenaline made it difficult to think, but Marit squeezed my hand and urged me forward, toward the outer ring of halls that eventually lead to the main door. "What did it feel like?"

"He's muffled," I explained. "Right before it happened, something foreign touched him."

Marit was stunned to silence a moment and had to recover. That was so rare for him it frightened me further. "Foreign—something from the forest? We're still in the forest."

I could see in his alarmed eyes that he was frightened, and that he believed me. Pushing back on the surging tide of panic, I tried to remember that briefest of flashes on my hand, the sensation gone so quickly. "It was cold, and wet, I think."

"The river?" he asked.

I shook my head. "Idon't know. It didn't seem at all familiar. Wouldn't the river we drink from feel familiar, just like the forest we live in?"

"One would think," he conceded, then swore.

He broke into a run, and I bolted after him. We flew into coats, hats, mitts, boots, scarves, grabbed a lantern, and hustled into the cold and dark night.

At the market, Old Fritz was livid. I'd never seen the level-headed monk look so grumpy, his wrinkled face in a grimace. "Peter said he was going to follow some little girl—I couldn't see her. I told him not to. Didn't listen. That was twenty minutes ago."

My heart wanted to beat its way out of my chest. I heaved for breath after having tromped through the snow as fast as we could. Panic rose even further in my stressed veins.

"Fuck!" Marit swore and spat on the ground, then stamped on it.

I prayed to my higher soul, desperately prayed, and asked if I could hand over some of this adrenaline, for my immortal half to take some of this burden from me. Just in thinking the prayer, it lifted ever so slightly, just enough that I could get that muffled feeling of Peter back, though now it was fading. "This way."

Marit grabbed my hand again and followed alongside as I walked through the market, tracing that feeling, until it led to the end, which was also the edge of town, since the market led into the town center in the other direction. Nothing but the black forest lay ahead, lit so dimly by the marketlanterns reflecting off the thick snow that it almost didn't matter. "I can't feel him any further than this."

Marit swore again.

We panted and stared into the abyss, the tears falling onto my cheeks burning me in the harsh cold.

"We need the instructors," said Marit, still trying to regain his breath. "We need the instructors that stepped into the Otherworld and brought Wren back."

Then poor Marit's expression froze, and I saw him come to the same terrible conclusion that I'd already reached. Ten years ago, when Wren had managed to invoke his higher soul all in one go, in a dangerous way that would not have even worked for anyone except Wren, his consciousness had left his body and gone wandering in the Otherworld. Marit and I had spooned around Wren, supporting him physically while the most advanced and skilled instructors at our monastery had gone looking for him and managed to bring him back.

But that had been ten years ago. Not a single one of them was still alive today.

"I will go," Marit said, cutting through my memories.

I squeezed his hand as tight as I could through our mitts. "What?"