“When I do that, generally people’s clothes come off,” Neifion observed.
Aodhan released her, shooting the kelpie a dirty look. “What did I say about talking?” He turned to Motley. “All set?”
Motley shifted from foot to foot. “Maybe.”
Cathy gave the raven shifter a brief, reassuring hug, being careful not to crush him against her armor. “Just try, Motley. If it doesn’t work, at least we’ll still have learned something.”
Motley nodded, looking a little more confident. “All right. Will try again.”
“All right then.” Aodhan squared his shoulders, lifting his wand like a conductor about to start a symphony. “Here we go again.”
Cathy knew the ritual well by now. Aodhan had been working on it for months, talking through every detail with her. Even though she was still a long way from any proper understanding of magecraft, she was able to catch a vague glimpse of the purpose behind the motions of his wand; hear an echo of meaning in the words he spoke.
Taking his hand, she linked her will with his. She sent him her strength, supporting him as he wrestled to breach the barrier between worlds.
Runes glowed around their feet. Chains of symbols lifted from the floor, rising into the air like questing snakes. They linked together, forming lines, an arch, a door. A door of light, hanging in the air.
Cathy focused on that glowing portal. With all her heart, she thought of her friends: Tamsin, Daisy, Jack, Betty, Cuan. Sorcery is a matter of desire, she knew now, and oh, she wanted to see them again. Not just through a window. She wanted to step through and hug them, she wanted to show them the wonders of this world, she wanted to introduce them to Aodhan properly and laugh and talk, long into the night—
“Now, Motley!” Aodhan shouted.
Motley reached into the light. Teeth clenched, he hauled with all his might, muscles standing out in his shoulders and back. Caught up in the spell, Cathy felt something shift, slide… and open.
“Door,” Motley gasped, fist still clenched tight around a tangled handful of fading runes. And then, in disappointment, “Small door.”
Cathy blinked afterimages from her vision. For a moment, she thought it hadn’t worked at all. Then she saw the small, square patch of sunlight, streaming out of nowhere.
Not out of nowhere. From another world.
“Cathy?” The sunlight disappeared, as though blocked out by someone. A brown eye squinted at them through the portal. “Are you there?”
“Tamsin!” Cathy bent down, a smile breaking across her face as she caught sight of her friend. “I can see you!”
“A very small part of you,” Neifion said. “I mean, size isn’t everything, but shouldn’t a portal be… bigger?”
“That didn’t sound like Aodhan,” a new voice said, sounding suspicious. “Stay back, Daisy.”
“Jack? Daisy?” Cathy tried to see past Tamsin, which wasn’t really possible with a portal only five inches across. “Is Betty with you too?”
“No, she’s still pretending she doesn’t know any of this is going on,” Tamsin replied. “Did it really work? I mean, could we reach through to you?”
“Only one way to find out,” Aodhan said. He started to poke his wand through the portal, then apparently thought better of it. “Wait a moment. Best not to do this with anything we don’t mind falling apart into atoms, I think.”
A quick search of the workroom shelves turned up a twig of hawthorn that Aodhan was prepared to lose. Holding her breath, Cathy gingerly touched it to the portal. An instant later, the twig whipped through her fingers. She recoiled, and Aodhan instantly had her, pulling her back from the portal.
“Something grabbed it!” Cathy exclaimed.
“‘Something’ being Daisy,” Tamsin said dryly. “Does it seem to have survived the journey, Daisy?”
“I’m holding a relic,” Daisy breathed. “A relic from another world.”
“It’s a stick,” Jack said.
“I’m holding a stick,” Daisy repeated, in exactly the same awed, breathless tones. “A stick from another world.”
“Well, that’s a distinct improvement over items falling into an endless void,” Aodhan said. He frowned, looking around. “I suppose we should try something alive next. Though I’m reluctant to post so much as a pot plant through a new, untested piece of magic.”
“Allow me,” Neifion said, coming forward. “I don’t mind losing a digit or two for science. I’m made of water, after all. Easy enough to reform my body parts.”