The effects of the tea finally started wearing off. Zach sat up, his body bruised and battered. He looked around and found Noah standing in the corner, looking out of the window. He’d only moved a small part of the curtain aside and kept himself hidden from view.

  Wait. Curtains?

  This was a different apartment! The wooden boards were gone, replaced by old, brown, and dusty curtains. The floor was relatively cleaner as well. Swept, not mopped. He supposed they couldn’t waste water on things like mopping floors.

  “Where are we?” he asked groggily. His tongue still felt heavy.

  Noah didn’t answer. Instead, he turned around, his eyes hinting at a deep anger. He stood there, watching Zach, his jaw clenching and unclenching. His hands were balled into fists, crossed over his chest.

  “Not in the Dreamhold, I’ll tell you that much.”

  Why’s he so angry?

  “What happened?” Zach asked warily.

  “How did you get the tea?” he basically growled.

  “I...” his words trailed off. Zach saw Ava’s face, saw the enforcer searching the apartments down the hall.

  “You let them see you,” Noah said accusingly. “You actually let them talk with you. They ended up searching the building for you. I told you I needed the Dreamhold, and you promised you wouldn’t cause any trouble.”

  “I needed to try to get... to get my memories,” he said softly, the excuse sounding weak to his own ears.

  “Everyone else be damned? Of all the Dreamers that survived being Claimed, you are the only one who didn’t care about being caught. That’s disturbing. That’s very disturbing.”

  Something in his tone raised the alarm in Zach’s head. It was full of speculation and distrust. He was so absorbed in trying to puzzle out Noah’s potential train of thought, he gave no answer. Noah, on the other hand, continued.

  “Why is it disturbing?” he asked, narrowing his eyes. “Tell me.”

  Zach swallowed, trying to find an appropriate answer.

  “You don’t know, do you?”

  Zach’s silence seemed to answer his question.

  “You said you had memory loss,” Noah muttered softly, shaking his head, “but this feels like something more. You seemed to have lost your entire mind. You said your name is Oliver Emery. Tell me, your family in the Camp, what are their names?”

  “John is my father. Eve is my mother. My brother’s name was Leo. The Head is my grandmother.”

  “And what’s your sister’s name?” Noah asked, taking a step closer.

  “My sister’s name is...” It was a struggle to remember her name.

  “Is...” Noah prompted.

  Zach had no answer.

  Noah nodded, walking back to the curtain.

  He moved aside the same part as before, glancing at the street beyond. He looked around for a minute or two, then turned back to Zach. There, in the light coming in from the window, Noah looked contemplative.

  “What happened to your sister?” he finally asked. “I mean, how did she die?”

  Again, Zach tried to pull from Oliver’s memories. Nothing.

  “There!” Noah suddenly said. “Right there. Why are you struggling? You remembered everyone else easily enough.”

  “I told you, my memories are gone,” Zach said defensively. “It takes a minute to remember.”

  Again, Noah nodded to himself. “What are you hiding?”

  Zach blinked, taking a deep breath to steel himself. “What are you talking about?”

  “From the moment I met you, you’ve been latching onto whatever excuse I throw your way. You did it back on the farm, you did it last night, and you did it now.”

  I should have run on that damn farm.

  Zach slowly got up, inching closer to the apartment door.

  “There’s no use. The door won’t budge. I’ve added enough weight to it, you might as well try pushing a large boulder. I don’t know what Creational Force Claimed you, but you are barely in the First String.”

  Okay.

  Zach decided to call his bluff. He turned and went to the door, grabbing the handle. The door did not budge. It was as immoveable as the wall in his mind. He took a deep breath, trying to calm the nauseating flutter in his stomach. He turned back to Noah.

  “I’m not hiding anything.” He told himself he’d only imagined the quiver in his voice, but he knew that wasn’t the case.

  “No one really likes people prying into their business, so I understand why someone would try their best to avoid being questioned. But you say your memories are gone. At the same time, you don’t seem frightened, and when I do ask you something, it takes you a minute to recall, but you do recall. So, the excuse of losing your memories doesn’t hold up.”

  Zach watched warily as Noah lowered himself to the floor, sitting cross-legged, and planting his hands firmly against the floor.

  “If it had been anyone else, I might’ve ignored it and moved on. But you aren’t just anyone else, are you? You’re an Emery. At best, you have amnesia, but even that doesn’t fit. Transmutation doesn’t demand anything but skill and mastery. It wouldn’t take your memories, not unless something else happened. So, I’ll ask again, what are you hiding?”

  Zach felt his fists ball up by his sides. His frustration quickly turned into a burning rage. He could see himself wrapping his fist around Noah’s thin neck. He could even see himself beating Noah senseless, using his lifeless body to force open that door.

  It was a red wave washing over him. He stood there, fighting against its sweeping tide, but it wasn’t enough. He just wanted to go home. Why was that such a difficult task? Why was Noah making it such a difficult task?

  He gritted his teeth.

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  “I’ll make it easier for you,” Noah went on, “so you know how bad you are at lying. John and Eve Emery never had a daughter.”

  YOU ARE CLAIMED BY SEVERITY

  That red tide forced him to take a step. He could feel himself snarling at the intensity of this raw emotion. Noah must’ve seen it, must’ve seen the threat in his movements, but if he did, he gave no outward confirmation. That triggered the anger even more.

  He took another step and found his legs were as heavy as iron. His joints protesting in pain as his whole body felt like it was being pulled down to the floor. His arms grew heavy, and his head felt like it was about to snap off his neck.

  Noah sat on the floor, sweat covering his forehead, his arms pressed firmly against the tiles. He was doing this! Just like before the ritual. Except that time, his mind had been going upward.

  Is that what he was doing now? Trying to send him back to that realm? Some of the tea was still coursing through his veins.

  He remembered the howls, the wrongness of those wolves. He remembered the man and the chains snaking across that burnt field. Panic grabbed him then as surely as Noah’s power did.

  “Wa... wait,” he gritted out. “Please... wait...”

  “What are you hiding?” he repeated, the strain hinted at by that sheen of sweat absent from his voice.

  “I...” the power pulled on him. Damn it, it’s like he’s pulling the truth straight out of me, and there was nothing he could do about it. “I’m not... I’m not from this world...”

  Some of that pressure eased.

  “Explain.”

  “I’m not from this world,” he repeated, panting. “I don’t know what’s happening, or-or how I ended up here, but I’m not from this world.”

  For some reason, the rage seemed to pull back, the tide retreating and leaving him able to focus his mind on the current situation. The pull of the floor increased again, Noah going paler from the effort.

  “You’re one of the demons?” he asked, the veins on his arms cording thickly. “You’ve possessed Oliver’s body? Are you trying to escape? I’ve never heard of demons being able to pass like you have. How is it possible?”

  “No…” Zach grunted, spit flying from his mouth. It felt as though the blood in his body was also being pulled to the floor. "I’m... not a... demon. My name is Zachary Smith... I’m from a different Earth... I woke up on the execution platform. I... I don’t know how or why, but I didn’t cause this...”

  Noah released the pull once more. Zach thought he might’ve heard a small, tired sigh escape his mouth as he did so, but then again, it might’ve been his own. His joints were so tired. His muscles felt like he’d gone through strenuous exercise.

  “Another Earth?” Noah said, his voice still giving no hint of the tiredness he showed. “Another Earth. As ridiculous as it sounds, it does make more sense than you being a demon. They could never imitate a human so accurately.”

  He grew quiet, studying him the way he always did. “If you’re telling the truth, what happened with the original Oliver Emery?”

  He’s taking this better than I thought. “I don’t know. His... his memories are coming to me, but it’s not him. They come when I hear something familiar, something he might’ve known. That’s how I remembered Leo.”

  The pressure lessened even further.

  “I see.” Noah’s voice was quiet, reserved.

  “You believe me? Just like that?” Zach asked him.

  “Ancient powers are stirring, powers most people didn’t know existed. They were too busy praying and arguing about their Gods; they didn’t even notice the arrival of the Creational Forces until it was too late. In light of these eldritch powers, what you’re saying isn’t the craziest thing I’ve heard.”

  Eldritch powers... That sounds familiar. Why does that sound familiar?

  He found Noah staring at him. “Something about what you said triggered another memory. Well, this one’s more like a feeling. Only Oliver’s experiences come back as fully formed memories.”

  “Interesting,” Noah murmured.

  “So... you do believe me?”

  “I do,” he said simply, pushing himself up from the floor.

  The pressure disappeared in a single dizzying wave, though his joints were still heavy and lethargic. It was his turn to sit. In the corner of the room was a single blue armchair, looking relatively clean, well, as clean as floors could be without using water.

  “I’m sorry, but I have to ask again. How are you so calm about this? A moment ago, you were ready to kill me. Now you’re... what? Trusting everything I’m saying?”

  Noah paused for a moment before he moved the curtain aside, throwing another glance into the street beyond.

  “I told you, I was doing research. The Dreamhold gave me the freedom to do that research quietly and with actual samples every time a Dreamer woke up. In return, I Stepped them out of the hold—out of the Camp, really. Transmuting always seems to give them the bravery needed to live beyond these walls.”

  “Research,” Zach repeated slowly, ignoring the feelings the word stirred within him. “That’s right! You’re doing research. Maybe-maybe you could help me figure out a way back to my world?”

  “I was doing research,” Noah amended sourly. “The enforcers are currently searching through the Dreamhold looking for you. A large part of what I was doing involved speaking with the other Dreamers. Hearing about what they saw in their realms. Hearing what sort of Force Claimed them.”

  He turned around at that, looking at Zach expectantly. When Zach gave no answer beyond a frown, he asked, “Well? What did you see? Where were you?”

  Zach only hesitated a moment. Speaking about his predicament had helped ease some of the discomfort he’d been carrying since awakening on that platform.

  Whether it was because he was caught up in the moment or whether it was because he still felt the effect of that gravitational pull, he decided to stick with honesty.

  He told him about the chains, the black sky, the burnt field. He even told him about the wolves and their strange howls hunting him. However, he decided not to mention that a man had also been hunting him.

  There were a lot of ways someone could interpret that. For all he knew, Noah would be reluctant to associate with the danger that posed. Mentioning the wolves was bad enough.

  For his part, Noah received it all with something like delight shining in his eyes. His excitement at hearing this was a sharp contrast to Zach’s weariness.

  When he finally finished, Noah was quiet, digging in his front pocket from which he pulled out a small notebook. A black pencil came out with it, and he wrote down whatever he deemed important enough.

  “Severity,” he finally read aloud. “That makes four Forces in total. I wonder how many of them there are.”

  “Is there anything in your notes and research that might help me get back home? Or at least figure out what’s happening with me?”

  He did not page through his book as he answered.

  “I’m not sure. I was right, this is the first I’ve heard about Severity. It’s also the first time I’ve heard about the creatures hunting someone like that. Usually, they watch from a distance, trying to force you to let them in, to let them possess you. We’re clearly dealing with a lot of unknowns here.”

  He slid the notebook back in his pocket and turned back to the curtain.

  “What are you watching for?” Zach finally asked.

  “My brother.”

  He let the curtain fall closed and crossed the apartment. Zach swore the door sighed in relief as Noah removed the weight he’d given it. As they waited for his brother to reach the door, Noah frowned in thought.

  “I understand your need to go home, but for now, I think you should get comfortable being Oliver Emery. Embrace more of his memories, especially now that you’ve brought attention to yourself. If they think you’ve lost your mind, they will kill you. They’ll kill all of us.”

  “I was starting to think the same thing,” Zach said glumly.

  I have to think it enough times that I actually believe it. So that I start mimicking his mannerisms. Though I don’t think we’re that far apart.

  The door opened, and an older version of Noah walked in. The jet-black hair, the sharp-lined face, down to the prominent chin. Even the look on his face, a frown that was similar to his brother's but in a more mature way, though his spoke of worry and anxiousness, where Noah’s spoke of deep thought and introspection.

  “We have a problem, Noah.”

  “Small problem, or big problem?”

  “They were about to cancel the search for your friend over here, but something else happened. An outsider arrived. He’s talking about emptying the Dreamhold. The council’s fighting him, but the Head’s interested. Interested enough to consider it.”

  “What’s wrong with emptying the Dreamhold?” Zach asked innocently.

  Noah’s brother looked at him as though he’d gone crazy.

  “He’s still tired,” Noah said in his defense, glaring at him.

  Still, his brother answered as if he were speaking to a child. “No one in the Dreamhold can feed themselves, beyond the two of you, clearly. If they’re let out of the Dreamhold, the Camp will force them out, since they can’t contribute to the Camp.”

  “That’s a death sentence,” Noah added. “A cruel and merciless death sentence.”