“K-u-r-n,” I corrected.
Imogen shrugged. “My point stands.”
I waited a while longer before deciding to take a look around. Either no one was home, or they were, and a little snooping would likely lure them out.
I walked back down the stairs and met Imogen in the driveway. She followed me around the side of the building. The feeling that something was off persisted, thrumming just below my skin’s surface.
“Wouldn’t it be best to wait at the door?” Imogen whispered. “That way we won’t be doing anything bad when the king returns.”
“What exactly do you consider our worst-case scenario here?” I asked, continuing on my way.
“Uh, probably getting shot. No…worse—”
“If someone with a gun appears, you’ll bodysnatch them. Problem solved,” I said.
“What if it’s not a person? What if the sheep return to exact their revenge?”
“Revenge implies some sort of wrongdoing on our part. Did you kick any of the sheep?”
“No.Of course not. I would never.”
“Then we should be fine.” I continued around the building until I spotted what appeared to be an electric switchboard along the wall. That wrongness I’d been sensing increased tenfold. Whatever magic was going on here—it was connected to that box. If I had to guess, it was related specifically to the building, perhaps some sort of illusion magic.
Imogen shivered, likely feeling the same thing I was, even if she didn’t realize it.
I approached the box and reached a hand out.
Imogen slipped between me and my target. “Don’t.”
“I don’t believe what we are experiencing is true,” I told her. “The source of the…mirage is here. Can’t you feel it?”
She nodded emphatically. “Oh I can feel it. The magic coming off of that thing is bananas. The last thing we should do is touch—”
“I wasn’t going to touch it,” I told her. “I wanted to feel the energy on my palm, see if I could decipher—”
Imogen’s eyes widened into globes.
“Wha—” Before I could ask what was wrong, a sheep appeared out of nowhere and booped her with its nose. It must not have left with the rest of its herd, and instead had followed us.
Imogen shrieked and stumbled backward into the box.
The sky flickered into darkness. The grass withered and turned brown. The gray stone facade turned black and crumbled. It was a reality shift, and we were glimpsing the truth.
Everything flicked back to normal.
“Where did it go?” Imogen looked around wildly.
“The mirage seems to have righted itself,” I said.
“What? Mirage? What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about this altered version of our surroundings. Did you not just see the blackened corpse of the building?”
“No, my eyes were shut. Far more importantly—where’s the sheep?”
There didn’t appear to be any sheep. With a wave of my hand, I said, “It must have run off.”
A gust of hot, moist air blew against the back of my neck.