Persie Merlin and the Door to Nowhere by Bella Forrest Page 0,110

was I not in Kansas anymore.

I lay on a sloping hill that led down to a purple stream, and the grass was the silvery white of fresh winter frost. The colors were all wrong. Bright, red-trunked trees grew white leaves, copses of pale purple bushes carried alarming bright blue fruit, and above stretched a sunless pink sky with pastel yellow clouds. There were moving clouds, but no wind. There was light, but no sun. There was definitely supposed to be a sun. Everyone knew that.

What the hell happened to me? My body was shaking, but not from the cold. It was the shock of jolting out of my happy daze into whatever this was supposed to be. Presumably not the real world anymore.

I squinted as I noticed hovering lights by the stream. They bobbed around in a familiar way. Little gassy balls of color, playing with one another. Where had I seen that before? My mind felt like it’d been stuffed with cotton balls, and the trippy landscape wasn’t helping.

You followed them here… It was coming back in hazy bursts, like a half-remembered dream. Only this was the part that felt like a dream. I remembered being in the new wing and hearing that song… A mesmerizing tune that pulled me through a door of light. I realized, with a stomach lurch, that this must have been where it led to. A hidden world. And, if it was hidden, who the heck was going to find me?

I lifted my hand to my brow, blocking out the light that seemed to be everywhere at once. It took just half a second to spot another person… and another, and another. Quite a lot of people, actually, all scattered across the sloping hills, tucked under the weird trees, or sitting by the stream as if everything was totally cool. But they didn’t seem very… with it. They were all staring into space, their lips moving in a steady rhythm. The whisper of the cumulative voices drifted across the hidden realm like wind.

Getting up, I dusted off the back of my jeans. A silver, glittery residue clung to my palms, so I wiped harder, sending cascades of powder floating to the floor. Sort of like snow, but not. Sort of like frost, but not.

Trying my best to ignore the bizarreness, I set off to explore. Every footfall made the grass crunch, leaving my distinct footprints. I saw more of these tracks trailing the hills, where people had obviously gone a-wandering. So, why wasn’t anyone walking now? It looked like someone had arranged them in this world the way they wanted them, like dolls or mannequins, then abandoned them. And not one of them seemed to be aware of their surroundings.

Edging down the slope, I spotted a familiar face standing on the stream bank. Dark hair, sourpuss face, fancy clothes—oh yeah, I remembered this girl. Xanthippe. The first to go missing, and the first to launch a discriminatory tirade at me. Gritting my teeth for the anticipated cry of “Get away from me, filthy Atlantean,” I headed toward her. But she didn’t even turn when I touched her arm.

“Xanthippe?” I shook her arm, this time. “Hey, Xanthippe!”

Her eyes stayed fixed on something in the distance as her mouth moved, whispering words I had to lean close to hear. “I’ll follow you. I’m here. I want to hear the music.” I waited for her to snap out of it, but she just kept repeating those three sentences, stuck on a loop. Her eyes were zoned out, entranced.

“Xanthippe!” I screamed in her ear, yanking on her arm. But every time I pulled her, she moved right back into her autopilot position.

Okay, this is freaking me out. I scanned the rest of the people, in search of more familiar faces. There must’ve been thousands of people scattered to the four corners of this place. Some wore modern clothes, so I guessed those were Institute people. However, they were a distinct minority. The rest, from what I could tell, were either re-enactment enthusiasts or… or what? Was it possible that they were actually from an ancient time? Old-timey jerkins and bloomer-looking pants stopped mid-calf. Long cloaks and men in plate armor. Hunched elderly folks in threadbare dresses and tunics.

One of the armored men wasn’t too far away—twenty yards or so. Making a decision, I left Xanthippe to her mantra and made a beeline for the soldier. The glowing orbs closest to him winged away, not wanting to be close