Beatrice didn’t have time to react or to think. All she knew in that instant was terror. But the shattering agony of her body crushing against the ground never came. Instead, the pain cut only into her wrists as she was yanked suddenly upward again.

Pulling her back to eye level and rising at her side, the horrible knight drew them up even higher than they’d been before. Beatrice knew just enough about Jaguar arts to realize then that she was facing a mage of incredible power. She should not be able to sustain such a height, not while supporting both of them. Not for more than a few moments.

Beatrice’s entire body trembled as she stared into the woman’s bright brown eyes, so like the Lord High Inquisitor’s…and every bit as hateful. Without exactly meaning to, she snarled. The Jaguar mage smirked at her.

“Oh! Fiery little witch, aren’t you?” she laughed as Beatrice hung there, helpless, burning with fury and fear. “Yes, I think you’d look good in flames. But not so much dashed to chum upon the ground, hm? So. Let us have it. The truth, now. Else the next time I ask the question, it will be as you bleed out into the beloved earth.”

Beatrice’s mind raced, heart pounding so hard and blood surging so loud in her head it was hard to think.

Why not? Why not tell her the truth? She’ll die or be imprisoned here anyway, and if she isn’t…if the inquisitors win…everything’s over for us regardless of what I admit.

“I pushed him through a portal into another world,” said Beatrice.

The Jaguar’s eyes went wide, lips curling back as she hissed from between gritted teeth. More strands of hair fell into her face as she reeled slightly back and leant in again.

“What do you mean, another world? What world? Where?”

They began, slowly, to lower to the ground. A strange sort of giddiness overtook Beatrice then, and she actually laughed. The collar bit into her neck, but she didn’t care.

“The labyrinth of roses, through the mirror portal.”

Lifting her right hand forward and palm-up, the knight clenched her fingers together into a fist, and the collar tightened. Beatrice gasped, the band digging into her flesh with every breath that followed.

“You will show me,” she said. “And bring him back.”

Their feet touched to the uneven stone of the sloping mountainside, but still the Jaguar held Beatrice in place.

“I d-don’t know if I can,” she said, paying for every word with pain.

The knight eased the tightness of the collar, but only somewhat.

“I do not have that kind of control,” Beatrice continued, choking a bit. “I don’t know much about any of it. He could be anywhere in it, and it is vast.”

“I do not care how vast it is,” said the Jaguar. “You will take me to this world to find him, or we shall have to see what you won’t do to spare further harm to your one-eyed love.”

Beatrice stared at her, hatred burning so hot she thought she scented smoke. Her power flared, danced across her skin, but she fought to suppress it. For the moment.

“We shall need D’artanien—the armored thrall you crushed—to wield the sword of bone should any diamondrakes appear,” said Beatrice. “And h-however many of your people you can rally. Anything might await on the other side.”

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“And withdraw them from the conflict?” scoffed the knight. “A worthy attempt, witch.”

“Then we should wait until they can be spared.”

The band of metal clenched hard about Beatrice’s neck and loosened again.

“It is not your place to advise, Fox.” Lifting a gauntleted hand nevertheless, the knight motioned in the air. Within moments D’artanien appeared through the balcony door above, his crumpled armor popping back into some semblance of normalcy, the sword of bone clenched in his hands. But when his feet touched the ground his stance was weak, and he wavered on the spot.

“Portal,” ordered the Jaguar. “Now.”

Beatrice’s eyes darted away from hers, scanning their surroundings—trees behind and to either side, house ahead. The chaos of ongoing conflict could be glimpsed through several windows, but Darcy was nowhere in sight.

“Very well,” said Beatrice just as she had to the high inquisitor this woman so desperately sought to save. And, directing her already gathered energy, she unleashed it in a rush not a few paces down the slope from where they stood. It coalesced into a large oval, rippled, and drew flat. In the next heartbeat their own reflections were staring back at them.

“We shall go through together,” said the knight. “And the thrall shall follow.”

“I don’t think—”

“Silence,” hissed the Jaguar. She stalked forward, drawing Beatrice along at her side as D’artanien dragged after them. Her nerves alive with terror and anticipation, Beatrice found herself at threshold’s edge. The collar squeezed about her throat as she gulped in her last breath of familiar air. Then they broke the mirrored surface, and a cool tingling swept all across her skin as, reflexively, she squeezed her eyelids shut.

Her collar and shackles went limp upon her body, and she stumbled as she found herself suddenly supporting her own weight once more. The scent of mint flooded her senses. Mint, roses, and smoke. She opened her eyes, her vision taking a moment to adjust to the darkness. The Jaguar was frozen in place beside her.

It was night on the other side. Overhead, a great pink crescent of a moon loomed, veiled behind layers of cloud. Behind them climbed the mountain, though in the place of trees there were instead towering hedgerows strewn in roses. And before them stood Highreach, strangled beneath the grasp of thorny vines and blossoms.

“Call to your guardian,” ordered the knight. “He’s taking too long.”

“I don’t think he can hear me from the other side,” said Beatrice. “I would have to stick my head back through were I to do that. Besides, I think the drakes only come through on the side at which the portal was summoned.”

“Think is not good enough, witch, but I’m no fool. You’ll not so much as look at that portal without me by your side.”

Testing a fledgling theory, Beatrice made for the mirror. And though the knight snarled at her to stop and leapt forth to snatch hold of her wrist, the metal still hung inanimate upon her.

She has no power here.

For a heartbeat, Beatrice considered transforming out of her grip, diving back through the portal and closing it after her.

But when might I have another chance to come here, to seek out Gray? He could be right there, on the other side of one of these walls.

“Look back through with me, then, if you want me to call him,” said Beatrice, deciding it was best to play along for now and abandon the Jaguar later. And so, with an awkwardness that was nearly as painful as the metal clenched about her throat, they pressed in side-by-side to lean through the reflective portal.

And together they bashed their heads against its unrelenting surface.

As they reeled in shock and pain, the reflection leeched of color. Heartbeats later, Beatrice’s hands flew up to cover her ears as the portal shrieked, a great crack ripping through it. It flashed, flew apart, and was gone.

Beatrice’s heart near dropped from her chest. The Jaguar mage cursed.

“Summon another,” she ordered.

Gathering what little energy she had left within her, Beatrice tried. But she’d already summoned two portals that day, and she had little strength left to spare. Faint colors painted the air at her attempt, but they misted away within moments to nothingness. then, from somewhere out in the upper hedgerows, a chorus of shrieks and high pitched howls arose. There was a sound as of a distant wind blowing closer, and—very faintly—of many paws pattering at stone, stirring dead leaves.

Beatrice and the Jaguar knight turned to peer up the hill as, from the nearest bend in the hedgerows, seething shadow spilled forth. Lit like the night sky by luminous eyes, the inky mass resolved itself into the form of dozens upon dozens of ghostly foxes. And though their bodies appeared ephemeral, the sharp teeth of their panting maws seemed very solid indeed.