Chapter 138

We made it home sometime after noon. Everything still hurt - but at least I could walk now. That was something.

“You look like hell,” Mirri said the moment she saw me.

“I feel like hell.”

She didn’t laugh. Didn’t tease. She just looked at me. Her eyes searched mine, worry plain on her face. “Are you okay?” she asked.

“Been better,” I said. “Something’s bothering you. What is it?”

She hesitated. Studied me a moment longer like she was trying to decide if now was the right time. “The guard brought Issa home last night.”

I exhaled slowly, my shoulders sagging. “What did she do?”

Mirri glanced away, like she was hoping someone else would answer for her.

I stepped closer, then dropped to a knee in front of her. The motion sent a sharp protest through my legs, but I ignored it. “Hey,” I said quietly. “What’s wrong?”

Her voice was barely there when she answered. “She was eatin’ human flesh.”

“What?”

“She said Sszarik found a body outside of town.” Her eyes stayed down. “He cut off a piece, cooked it… and they ate it together.” The words came out fragile. “Said it was some kind of marriage ritual for naga.”

I sank back, hitting the floor harder than I meant to. For a moment, I just sat there.

“I told you,” Mirri said quickly, like she was trying to soften the blow, “it’s somethin’ they used to do. I spoke with Ishaan - he said it’s an old ritual. They don’t do it anymore.” She swallowed. “He seemed really upset with Sszarik.”

A wave of dizziness rolled through me. Then anger. Sharp and immediate. “Where is she?” I asked.

“I told her she couldn’t see her friends - or Sszarik - for a week.” Panic flickered across Mirri’s face.

“Where is she?” I repeated.

She shrank a little under the question. “In her room.”

I pushed myself up, pain forgotten, and headed for the stairs. The door slammed open hard enough to rattle the wall when I shoved it.

“What the fuck, Issa?” I snapped.

She jerked at the sound. Her sea-green eyes were red, swollen from crying.

“What the hell made you think it was a good idea to eat a person?”

“It wasn’t a person!” she shot back, voice breaking. “He was already dead. We didn’t hurt anyone!” Tears spilled over, her hands clenched at her sides. “Sszarik loves me-”

“Too fucking bad,” I cut in, “because you’re not seeing him anymore.”

“You can’t stop us!” she shouted. “We’re married!”

“Bullshit,” I snapped. “You’re grounded for a month.”

“What does that even mean?”

“It means you’re spending the next month in the demesne,” I said, each word sharp, “and you’re not leaving.”

“You can’t stop me!”

I grabbed her arm and stepped. The world shifted. Then she hit the ground in the demesne.

“I can,” I said, shoving her back as she tried to push up. “And I will.” I stood over her, breath coming fast. “You’re locked out. The demesne won’t respond to you. No stepping. No shaping. Nothing.”

She stared at me, shock cutting through the anger.

“Mirri will bring you food. You’ll keep studying.” I pointed at the ground. “Here. Until you start using your brain.”

She shouted something back - angry, hurt - but I didn’t even hear it. I was already gone.

I stepped out of the keep, my blood pounding in my ears.

The Weeping Gallows whispered as I passed. Soft. Persistent.

“Shut the fuck up!” I shouted. My fist slammed into the stone wall surrounding it. Pain flared as my knuckles split. The stone cracked inward with a sharp, brittle sound.

Another wave of dizziness hit me. Harder this time. My legs buckled and I slid down the wall, breath coming shallow and fast.

The world tilted. I pressed my palms into my eyes, trying to steady myself, trying to **** everything to slow down, to make sense. My chest tightened. It was hard to breathe. I took shallow gulps of air that did nothing.

* * *

“Sir?”

The voice pulled me from the darkness that threatened to overtake me.

I blinked, lifting my head. The sun was low - bleeding out across the horizon, casting everything in a a muted sepia. I didn’t remember sitting there that long.

I looked down at my hands as if seeing them for the first time. One was smeared with dried blood. My knuckles were already healed.

“Sir? Are you alright?”

Ishaan stood a few paces away, concern plain in his eyes. His spear rested against the ground, his grip steady but unsure. The deep green of his scales had dulled in the fading light, washed into something brown and tired.

It took me a moment to place him. “Ishaan?” I said.

“Yes, sir.” He hesitated. “Are you alright?”

I dragged a hand over my face, leaving flecks of dried blood behind. “What are you doing here?”

He lowered his head. “I came to apologize.” He lifted it just enough to meet my gaze. “For my son. He shouldn’t have done that. And he shouldn’t have involved Issa. I thought I’d raised him better.”

I let out a long breath. “I think I finally understand my parents,” I said. “You try to teach them right from wrong. You show them how to do the right thing. Then they ignore you and do whatever the hell they want anyway.”

I rocked my head back and it struck the stone wall hard enough to hurt.

Once. Twice. A third time - trying to jog my brain and make myself feel something other than hollow inside.

“I sometimes miss when my children were small,” Ishaan said quietly. “When they were barely able to walk. It was easier then, in some ways.”

“It was an experience.” I let out a humorless chuckle. “I skipped that part with most of mine. And most of the ones that did go through that… they didn’t stay like that for long. The only ones I really saw as babies were Morien and Briva.”

He glanced at me. “Sir?”

“Bloodchildren,” I said. “Half my kids are bloodchildren. I think the Ulissae name is Sulvae Ithren.”

He blanched.

I ignored it. “They grew up in less than a week,” I went on. “Babies one day. Toddlers the next. Six-year-olds the day after that.” I shook my head. “A week later, they were gods.”

I shook my head. “Not exactly a normal childhood.”

He looked unsettled now, his eyes flicking around the bailey like he expected something to appear out of the shadows.

“Relax,” I said. “They’re good kids. Mostly.” A faint smile tugged at my mouth. “They’re a handful, but I love them.”

I exhaled slowly. “They’re not here anymore,” I added. “Moved out a few years back. Wanted to see the world. Figure out their place in it.” My voice softened. “I guess we all have to do that eventually.”

I pushed myself to my feet, slower this time, the world steadying just enough to cooperate. “Thank you,” I said. “But you should head home. Your family needs you.”

I paused, rubbing the back of my neck. “And I should probably go apologize to Issa.”

Ishaan nodded once, then turned and left, his steps quiet against the stone.

* * *

Apologizing to Issa went about as well as you’d expect.

She was hurt. Guilty. Angry.

I tried to explain why what she’d done was wrong. She pushed back immediately - said she hadn’t hurt anyone, so what did it matter. I told her that wasn’t how things were done anymore. She said it was how her people did things, and that I wasn’t respecting her culture.

We went in circles. Neither of us listened. We both said things we shouldn’t have.

In the end, I left her in the demesne because I didn’t know what else to do.

I had my head down on the desk in my study when the girls came in. I didn’t hear them at first. I just felt their presence settle into the room - quiet, heavy, and concerned.

“Are you…” Mirri started.

“I’m fine,” I muttered, before she could finish.

The weight of everything pressed down on me - my failures, the consequences of my actions, the ripple effects of every bad decision stacking up faster than I could fix them. A part of me wanted to just… stop. Lie down. Never get back up.

I **** myself upright. “I found something at the Covenant’s compound,” I said, dragging a hand through my hair. “They’re not just messing with the Gallows.”

That got their attention.

I told them everything. The pyramid. The Gallows. The shipments. Earth. The weapons. What I’d done to stop them.

Reactions split immediately. Mirri stayed close, quiet, and steady - trying to ground me without saying it out loud. Ashlara nodded along, approving in that blunt, practical way of hers. Elise looked horrified - like I’d just drown a bag full of kittens. Serah… said nothing. She just listened.

“So they’re using the Weepin’ Gallows to reach Earth?” Mirri asked. It seemed too far fetched, based on our limited knowledge of the trees and dimensional travel in general.

“That’s what it looked like,” I said. “They were bringing things through. Guns. Probably more than that. ****, maybe. And shipping something back. I don’t know what.”

I pressed my palms into my eyes.

“So like Grams’ thunder spear?” Mirri asked. “The… rye-full?”

I let out a humorless laugh. “That would be bad,” I said, “but this is worse. Way worse.”

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “Grams fires once, then has to reload. Takes her about a minute to get another shot off. What they had?” I shook my head. “They can fire at least one shot every second. Maybe more. And they don’t stop. Thirty seconds. A minute. Sixty rounds in that time.”

I met her eyes. “Even a fireball would struggle to keep up with that.”

Silence fell heavy in the room.

“They had smaller ones too,” I went on. “Pistols. Small enough to fit in your pocket. Not as fast, but still… ten shots before you reload. And reloading takes seconds.”

I leaned back, staring at the ceiling.

“I don’t know what else they’ve got. Grenades? Rockets? Mines? If there’s one thing my people are good at…” I trailed off, then finished it anyway. “…it’s killing things.”

The words sat there. Ugly. Real.

“And now all of that is here.” I let out a slow breath. “With just what I saw - just that one shipment - a group of fifty men could take on a small army.”

I looked between them. “How long have they been doing this? How many weapons do they have? How many of these… portals are out there?”

My stomach twisted. “I might’ve shut down one.” I spread my hands. “But what if there are a hundred more?”

“We need more information,” Serah said at last. Calm. Measured. “If there are additional portals. What they’re moving. How much.”

“Could we use them?” Mirri asked, hesitant. “For medicine?”

I looked at her.

“Great Granda said your people have incredible medicine,” she went on. “You said they can… cut someone apart and put them back together. That could save lives.”

I shook my head. “That stuff needs infrastructure,” I said. “Electricity. Equipment. Specialists. It’s not something we can just carry over in a crate.”

“What about books?” Elise asked, leaning forward. “If we understood how it works, we could recreate it here.”

I shook my head again. “It’s too dangerous.”

Mirri’s voice softened. “You’re not curious?” she asked. “Not even a little? To see your home again?” Her eyes searched mine. Careful. Uncertain.

I didn’t hesitate. “No.” The word came out clean. Absolute. “There’s nothing there for me,” I said. “My family is here. My life is here. I don’t want to leave you. Not even for a minute.”

I reached out, taking her hand, giving it a firm squeeze.

She held on.

“The plan,” I said, “is we find those portals.” I looked at each of them in turn. “And we shut them down.”

* * *

I slipped away from the door of thren’s study while he, Vaer, Ashie, and Serah were still talking.

The Weeping Gallows told the truth. It could show me how to visit thren’s world. He said it was dangerous, but he was just trying to protect us. He came from there, and he was good. There had to be other good people there.

I knew there were. I’d read the books. A Christmas Carol. Little Women. Charlotte’s Web. A world full of terrible people couldn’t write stories like that.

I went to my room and packed quietly. Not much - just enough for a short trip. My journals. A change of clothes. A small bag to bring things back. A little food. And the dagger thren gave me, just in case.

Then I slipped down the stairs and out into the bailey.

Night had settled in. The half-moon hung low, its pale light spilling across the yard. The children were hidden, but the great green orb still showed itself, casting everything in a soft glow.

The hole thren had punched through the wall around the Weeping Gallows still gaped wide, giving me a clear view of the tree for the first time in years.

It was enormous.

Twenty-five feet tall, its branches nearly brushing the walls. The trunk was thick—eight feet across - its bark dark and rough. Knots and bulges twisted across its surface in shapes that looked too much like faces. Eyes closed. Mouths turned down. Noses swollen and uneven.

The leaves formed a canopy of deep red, glossy and bright, sparkling in the moonlight.

“We can show you the way,” the tree whispered. “You want to see thren’s world, don’t you? You’re right - it’s beautiful. Just like the painting on your wall. Yes, it’s dangerous… but so is this world.”

The voice curled around me, soft and certain. “You’re a smart girl. You know how to stay safe. You’ll be fine. And when you come back, you can tell the others everything you’ve seen…”

My thoughts slowed. Calmed.

I took an involuntary step forward - barely registering it. Then another. The tree loomed closer, but it didn’t feel threatening. It felt… welcoming. Safe. Another step brought me to the broken edge of the wall.

A hand closed around my shoulder.

I blinked, my vision sharpening. The moon had moved. High now. Halfway across the sky. I didn’t remember how long I’d been standing there.

The hand turned me gently.

Tansy knelt in front of me, her eyes bright, catching the light like glass. “That’s not how you get there,” she said softly. “But I can show you.” Her voice was calm. Certain. “I’ve been there,” she added. “And it’s everything He said it wasn’t.”

I searched her face.

I knew she and thren argued. Fought. I knew they were angry with each other. But she was still my sister. She wouldn’t hurt me. She would protect me.

“Do you want to see it?” she asked. “His world?”

My mouth felt dry. I nodded.

“Then let me show you.” Her hand stayed on my shoulder as she guided me forward.

The branches of the Gallows shifted, parting for us. Roots pulled back, clearing a path. The trunk split open with a slow, cracking sound. A dull red light spilled out from within.

“Don’t be afraid,” Tansy said gently. “It only hurts for a little while.” Her grip tightened, steadying. “But you’re strong. You’ll survive.” The red light deepened, pulsing faintly. “And then you’ll see…”