When, at last, the boy spoke, Drust’s gaze settled fully on Ghent with another twitch of his neck.
	“You. Don’t. [i]Know?[/i]” he growled through his teeth. His grip on his sword tightened, his gaze boring into Ghent as he took another step forward.
	His neck twitched again when Ghent raised his hands, but he stopped as the boy dove into a hasty explanation. Every muscle in the White Knight’s body was tense, his breaths short as he tried to both listen to Ghent and fight off the Curse, the lines around his eyes pulsating threateningly.
	Though he did not recognize Miles’ name, ‘shadowmire’ was one he knew well. That last, wretched shadowmire! If Elayra did not make it through, one way or another, he would have the beast’s head. And the Red Queen’s.
	When Ghent trailed off, with an angered, “ARGH!” Drust turned fully to the portal, his sword swiping at the air, careful to keep it from hitting the boy.
	His attention snapped to Ghent when the boy made for the portal, calling out.
	“NO!” His voice echoed through the clearing as he closed the distance between him and Ghent in a single, powerful bound. He reached out to grab Ghent, and his fingers closed around the soft fabric of the boy’s hood. He pulled back, hard, to both stop Ghent and force him away from and to the side of the portal. “We go through now,” he spun to face Ghent, moving so he stood between boy and portal, “we use up the last of its magic. Elayra wouldn’t have a chance.”
 	His menacing stare gave Ghent a silent, threatening warning against disobeying.
	Despite his words, the desire to jump in after her pulled at him. His neck twitched dangerously. The lines at the corners of his eyes threatened to expand over his skin, the heat of the Curse fighting for control raging through him, intensifying his panic and regret.
	If they went after her, that was it. Elayra’s way back would be gone, and they may not even make it to the other side. But if they did not go after her? If she got trapped on Earth? Alone? Or worse, if the shadowmire got her, and he could have stopped it? There would be no one but himself to blame.
	Drust looked from Ghent with another snarl and spun toward the portal. His grip tightened impossibly further on his katana, and his free hand balled into a fist.
	“Come [i]on,[/i] Elayra!” he shouted at the portal as if she could hear, as if it would make her appear before them.
	But, of course, it did not. Instead, the portal simply glowed weakly at him, its power dwindling with each passing second.
	It flickered again. Then, its light flared, preparing to eject someone else. Elayra? The shadowmire? This ‘Miles?’
	“Stay!” Drust’s free hand shot out to the side with his order in emphasis for Ghent to stay behind him, before he gripped his katana in both hands, ready for the attack.
	Sweet relief flooded through him when Elayra popped out of it, the portal vanishing the moment her feet cleared it.
	Elayra landed on her stomach on the soft grass with a gentle grunt, her arms in front of her to stop her face from hitting the ground. As soon as she felt the grass beneath her palms, she pushed herself up and jumped to her feet. She instinctively reached for her sword as she looked around, ready to fight off more of the Queen’s minions, but her hand gripped empty air.
	Seeing no one serving the Red Sorceress, her eyes fell to Drust. She took in his worn, Curse-ridden appearance, and took a cautious step away. She glanced to Ghent, her expression asking what he did to make the Curse flair, before returning her focus to Drust’s sword.
	“Drust,” she said tightly, what calm she tried to inject in it lost to the adrenaline already coursing through her.
	Drust’s chin lowered, and he looked down to where he gripped the weapon. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment, trying to calm himself; Elayra was okay. She made it. She and Ghent were both in Wonderland. They were all together, as it was meant to be.
	Finally, in a swift movement that made Elayra shuftle a step back, Drust sheathed his sword.
	He opened his eyes and quickly looked her over to make sure she was okay. “The shadowmire?”
	Elayra shook her head. “Don’t know.” She looked to Ghent, still keeping Drust in her sight. “Miles shot it, but I don’t know if it’s dead.” She focused on Drust once more, and took a slow breath. She watched for his reaction as she finished, her words coming quieter. “But she knows, Drust. The Red Queen knows we’re here.”