Relieved that Ghent seemed to have come at least somewhat to his senses—and miraculously managed to keep his balance—she hurried after him. A quick glance over her shoulder at the sedan, which had paused at the alley’s opening, cured her of that small bit of relief, and she pushed herself onward, glad for Ghent’s fear-induced speed. A ghost of recognition flashed in her mind, and she tried to remember where, if at all, she had seen the car.
	She let out a breathless growl when she remembered; the car Ghent had delivered the cat to at the park. Though it had been dark, she was sure it was [i]that[/i] car that had likely seen them run into the alleyway.
	Her heart increased a beat, the uncertainty of if this car’s driver also possessed a weapon other than the cat making her constantly look back, even once it was out of sight. When they finally emerged from the alley, she scanned the streets as they groggily came to life. Watching for any sign the sedan had predicted where they would end up, she followed Ghent closely.
	The clouds made it difficult, at best, to gauge the time, even when Elayra dared glance upward into the heart of the downpour. More cars made their way down the streets, each rush of them passing by making her grind her teeth. Her hand remained stretched across her to rest at her left hip, her fingers longing for the comforting feel of the worn leather of her saber’s hilt. She jogged a couple steps behind Ghent, avoiding the puddles he carelessly splashed in, habitually minimizing the noise she made while avoiding getting her feet any wetter. Though as soaked as Ghent, her boots fared better against the rain than her garments; at least, her feet were not squelching inside her shoes with every step.
	“About time!” she snapped when Ghent declared their approach. Though it had only been a few blocks, it felt more like it had stretched on for a couple miles.
	When a hand reached out from behind the dumpster, Elayra snarled. Before she could register the voice accompanying it, she easily ducked beneath the arm extended to stop her and simultaneously drew the dagger from her boot. She spun around, dagger at the ready, and took a step to leap toward whoever had dared stop them. When her gaze found only the haggard, drenched form of Miles, she quickly caught herself, the dagger falling inches from the hand that had gripped Ghent’s pack.
	Her face twisted in an annoyed frown, and she straightened. As Ghent bent in exhaustion, her gaze swept over Miles, searching for any sign of where he kept the gun. Though not as worn out as Ghent, her breaths came heavier than normal. Her legs ached in protest against running after the excessive amount of it she did the previous day, but she ignored the soreness as well as she could. Her head turned slightly toward Ghent when he voiced his question.
	Her gaze flicked to the pocket Miles tapped, and the corner of her lips twitched upward in contentment that flashed in her eyes before her brows raised at Miles’ reasoning for choosing the boutique. Ghent’s reaction made her tilt her head in a mix of confusion and curiosity as she watched him pace between her and Miles. Though she had no idea what getting a ticket meant in this world to warrant it, revenge she understood. 
	[b]“Alright, girl… your turn to lead.”[/b]
	 Elayra nodded, but stopped, hesitant to look away from him in case he decided to draw his weapon the moment he knew where to find the portal. 
	“Fine.” She cocked her head, her gaze hardening dangerously. “But I should warn you. One of the White Knights of Heart Palace is waiting on the other side of the portal. If you show up without us,” she nodded toward Ghent, “he won’t be very happy. And I trust I don’t have to tell you that an unhappy White Knight isn’t someone you want to encounter. Especially an unstable one.”
	She turned from him, her eyes the last thing to leave him, then headed toward the main road, hoping the threat of facing one of the Knights would keep Miles in line.
	“Keep an eye on him,” she whispered to Ghent, pausing by him long enough to return the sinuous dagger to her boot. “And stay close to me.”
	Without looking to make sure the two followed, she poked her head out into the familiar street. She glanced around once, quickly taking in the few people opening shop, then stepped onto the sidewalk, keeping her pace as casual as she could. Her gaze locked onto the large sign above the door of a building an alley opening away, reading, “Frank’s Book Barn.” Emboldened by the prospective of home being so close, she quickened her pace.
	Careful to not let her guard down with their destination so near, she glanced down the alleyway where the shadowmire had attacked. Yellow police tape blocked off most of the alley, and one of the storage room doors hung ajar, its top hinge busted.
	She shuddered at the thought of the Red Queen’s minions. With a silent plea for it to be no one else but Drust they would find waiting for them on the other side of the portal, she took a deep breath and hurried past. On the opposite side of the building, she turned down the alleyway, her pace slowing.
	To the untrained eye, the alley ended in nothing more than a dead end. Graffiti covered the brick wall, creating words and tags in a chaotic artistry, many signatures and artworks overlapping as if at war with each other. To a normal passerby, the shimmery crack snaking its way over the bricks was nothing more than an ordinary crack. But to Elayra, that crack was their way home.
	A couple steps into the alleyway, the pulsating feel of the portal’s magic swelled around her, unmissable even by the most novice mage. But there was something [i]off[/i] about it. An air of struggle mingled in it, making the pulse feel more like a dying heartbeat. Her steps faltered, and her breath caught in her throat.
	The magic of the portal was fading.
	Elayra glanced behind her to Ghent, sparing Miles only half a glance, panic in her eyes.
	“[i]Hurry![/i]” She reached behind her to grip Ghent’s wrist to make sure he did not fall behind, then sprinted toward the hidden portal, puddles splashing carelessly beneath her feet.
	As if sensing their approach, the crack spread down the wall and yawned open before them, creating a swirling vortex of blue and white. Unlike its opening on the Wonderland side, here, flashes of sickly red lightning burst deep in its center, a virus trapped at the portal's heart.
	When they neared the half-way point, a movement to their right caught Elayra’s eye. An inexplicable shadow flitted across the bricks beside them, darting ahead faster than the trio could run.
	“Oh, come on!” Elayra groaned as the shadow pooled just ahead and slightly above them. She moved to shove Ghent ahead of her as hard as she could as the shadow darkened. “Get to the portal! [i]Now![/i]”