Elayra glanced to Ghent when he addressed her and Drust, only to trail off at the sight of the decaying gate. At the boy’s answer to her question, she nodded, content that he at least remembered [i]something[/i] of Wonderland.
	Drust stopped a few feet from the filigree designs of the gate, waiting for it to open for them as Ghent began his account of his reoccurring dream. His shoulders and jaw stiffened as the boy finished. Regret and guilt flashed in his gaze before his expression hardened to the beat of the hungry Curse threatening to consume the glazed crimson of his eyes.
	Elayra stopped beside Drust and glanced between him and the gate as Ghent commented on their appearances.
	Drust snorted and his lips rose in a bitter smile as he looked sideways at Ghent. “White Knights age differently,” he answered laconically.
	Elayra scowled at Ghent’s favorite nickname for her. She crossed her arms. “Shame, isn’t it?” Her glare turned into a smirk. “You actually used to be cute.”
	She shrugged stiffly as he finished speaking. “Maybe it’s better you don’t. Wouldn’t matter now, anyway.”
	Elayra’s attention snapped to Drust, and a hand reached instinctively across her body to her sword when the man’s face twisted in angered frustration. At first, she thought it had been her comment, but then he stepped toward the gates. This time, they had not opened for them.
	Drust gripped them and tugged, hard. A shimmer glistened over the enchanted ironwork and the stone heart blinked to life with a single, short-lived pink spark. His strength made its hinges rattle defiantly, but still it did not budge. 	
	His head twitched as he bent it with a low growl at the gate. 
	“Drust?” Elayra stepped cautiously toward him, moving a hand to usher Ghent behind her. Her grip on her sword’s hilt tightened when Drust spun around, the blade sliding an inch from its sheath.
	To her relief, the Curse had not taken him, though not for lack of trying.
	His gaze settled on Ghent. “Looks like we get to test your abilities.” He jerked his head toward the gate, Elayra unsure if it was intentional, or another tick. “Without an active portal, it’s locked itself to protect what remains. It won’t open. Not willingly.” Drust stepped aside. “A magic boost might help convince it.”