Clones pop out of Verspri at the least convenient times. They look like him, but they have personalities and skills of their own--so of course they blow Verspri's cover, and get him sent packing to a secret magic school in Mexico where he's supposed...
Teremki was deep. Deeply connected to a squiggling, worming mass of deep red. What's that? That was Ana.
The vines. Dryda. He's keeping them under control. Sort of. They nearly got free when Kwayo jumped into them, but then they grew easier to hold onto. At least, that's what he told me.
Okay, Kwayo said. What are we doing exactly?
Ana rolled her eyes. Kwayo didn't know that was possible, in this black, not-place of all their minds. He didn't know how he knew that.
It's time.
Kwayo agreed. He didn't know why, but he charged with all his force, shaping his energy into a deadly arrowhead aimed for the vines. He plunged in, immediately sent whirling deeper.
He spun within a tornado; sucking up everything it touched, yet hollowly vacant. He clawed his way out, solidifying himself in talons and feathers, breaking free into a dark sky. He sighed in relief, but a spinning dust cyclone rose around him. Oh no. He flapped away from the wind, but it caught hold and sent him hurling into the vortex, tearing feathers. He screamed out in the howling storm, tumbling, flapping his wings madly for control.
***
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Where was she? Ana only recalled striking with the force of a hammer, then nothing. She tried moving. It was like she was stuck in sand, completely enveloping her. She blinked, the sand trickling into her eyes. Something tickled her nose and she sneezed.
Her lungs involuntarily sucked in, sand filling her mouth and nose. It stuck inside her cheeks and she coughed, struggling to spit it out. But it kept coming, pressing down on her like heavy weights. She tried kicking, moving an arm, something.
Panicked, she thrust out with a deep part of her powers, like a muscle only strained when all others wore tired. A pulse. What? Another pulse, but this time it was reaching out to her. Ana focused, past the screaming in her lungs and stinging in her eyes. Are you there? Are you there--there--are you
Ana! A force dragged her up through the soil and she knelt, retching up sand.
Kwayo? Is that you?
Yes.
Ana peered through blurry eyes at a shadowy figure drifting towards her.
Thank you, he sent.
Thank me? She rubbed her eyes clear. You're the one that dragged me from the sand!
Really? The shadow drifted closer and a fuzzy version of Kwayo took form, hovering in the air. You pulled me from that tornado. He pointed, to one of the many whirling dust clouds and black thunderstorms.
Where are we? She asked, standing in swirling sand, staring at the brown, dusty landscape in wonder. I thought creepy, oily vines would look...ugly inside.
