“I’m sorry,” she whispered, added, “thank you.” She dragged the shard down Chadstone’s forearm, and blood flowed. It wasn’t human blood, and it wasn’t black like shadows, like she’d feared it would be - it was bright. Iridescent. All colors and none at all. Dakshana dipped her fingers into the blood and began to draw, lines, runes, a spell.
The force of a gate ripping into the fabric of the shadow world’s existence knocked the creature back. Through the shimmering gap, Dakshana could see the world, her world, the real world, with genuine sunlight.
She stepped through.
Something tried to follow.
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