She was cold, wet, tired, and nervous. Her leg burned like fire, and she was afraid that Liam would leave her behind, out of some misguided sense of chivalry—like her minor injury or chemical burn was too dangerous to risk in a situation like this. She knew Liam would have preferred to be the one injured, but he wasn’t, and that was that. Realizing that fear was making her waspish, she took a deep breath—and immediately choked as the stench hit her. The overwhelming scent of effluvia filled the air, making her sputter. Liam laughed, which naturally pissed her off. “The thing is offering a compromise,” he said, still grinning. “It won’t teleport us or yank us through the ether or whatever, but it found a way to help.” “Help?” she asked, trying to keep her tone even. “By making it smell like sewage? How does that help?” He pointed his chin upriver. “Look, it’s what they feed on.” Morgan looked, and he was right. The jellyfish creatures were brighter than ever, but they were moving away from the rock, downstream, toward where she supposed the creature talking to Liam must live. “Let’s go,” Liam said. “While they’re still distracted.” Morgan agreed, and together they finished crossing the river. She didn’t want to take the time to get dressed, but Liam insisted that drying off was less important than protecting her already damaged skin from scrapes, bruises, and whatever weird saps might exist in the curlicue forest of purple and teal strangeness. There was no path, but they were able to follow the creature’s tendril through the woods, and the path it led them down didn’t offer any other terrors. In short order, they came upon the strangest little atmosphere bubble she had ever seen. On the other side of the bubble stood a woman. She extended a hand, though not toward them—more like toward the bubble itself, pulling them through without any apparent effort. Liam seemed to cross without trouble, but Morgan found herself stuck outside until he took her hand. The woman welcomed them. “There’s a festival happening,” she explained, her tone brisk. “I need to get back to it, but you’re welcome to join me.” Morgan barely had time to take it in before the woman continued. “Liam is the new agent. But we’ll need to decide what to do about you.” She turned to Morgan, expression unreadable. “What does that mean in English?” Liam demanded. The woman laughed. “I don’t know what ‘English’ is. The creature is translating for you—its tendril hooked into your brain. But eventually, you could learn the local language if you try hard enough.” Morgan frowned, realizing she hadn’t understood a word of the conversation that wasn’t translated by the creature. “What about me?” she asked, pointedly. “You’ll have to learn,” the woman said simply. “The hard way.”