“Yeah right! Where’s your sword cross?” Krysanthea snarled. “You obviously took it off so you could get your paws all over MY man!”

  “A magnet-lynx ripped it off my neck!” Nessy explained.

  “Liar!” the raptor-girl growled. “Give me that damned bucket so I can burn that abomination in the ranger furnace!”

  “No!”

  “I swear to God, Nessy, I will shoot you if you don’t hand it over!”

  The invisible weight between us crystallized into something electric. Time seemed to stretch, each second extending into eternity as I stood between these two women—one I barely knew but who claimed intimate knowledge of "me," and another who had crossed worlds to find me. Both convinced of their rightness, both willing to fight for their version of reality.

  I saw Krysanthea's decision form in her eyes a heartbeat before she moved. The slight coiling of her scaled muscles, the shift in her weight, the hardening of her amber gaze—all telegraphed her intent.

  "I'm sorry, Alec," she said, her voice laced with genuine regret. "This is for your own good."

  “Don’t!” Nessy barked.

  Kristi lunged, not at me but at Nessy. The husky yelped in surprise, clutching the bucket with our precious tree closer to her chest as she tried to dodge. But Krysanthea was faster, her ranger training evident in the precision of her attack.

  Her scaled hand struck Nessy's wrist, sending the bucket tumbling. I dove for it instinctively, catching it before it could shatter against the limestone path. Behind me, I heard the sounds of struggle—growls, hisses, the scrape of claws against stone.

  When I turned, Krysanthea had Nessy pinned face-down on the ground, one knee pressed into the small of her back. The husky's arms were being wrenched behind her, metal glinting as handcuffs snapped closed around her furry wrists.

  "You have the right to remain silent," Krysanthea recited, her voice clinically detached despite the rage still evident in her eyes. "Anything you say can and will be used against you in court. You are under arrest for violation of Ferguson County Ordinance 394: Transportation and Cultivation of Systemfall-Corrupted Flora, and for the kidnapping and mental manipulation of Alec Foster."

  "I didn't kidnap anyone!" Nessy cried, struggling against her restraints. Her blue eyes found mine, wide with panic. "Alec, tell her! Tell her I saved you!"

  I stood up, the bucket heavy in my hands. "She didn’t do anything. Let her go—"

  I never finished the sentence. Something struck the back of my leg—Krysanthea's tail, I realized belatedly—sweeping my feet from under me. The world tilted, then rushed up to meet me as I fell, the bucket flying from my grasp. Krysanthea caught it in the air with her left hand.

  Before I could recover, the raptor was above me, her movements a blur as she pushed me down and secured my wrists with a second pair of handcuffs. The metal bit into my skin, cold and unyielding.

  "I know this seems cruel," she said. "But you're not in your right mind, Alec. Systemfall corruption has affected your memories, your sense of self." Her clawed hand brushed my cheek with surprising tenderness. "I'll fix this. I'll bring you back. I’ll destroy that evil tree, lock up that stupid dog for a couple of years and everything will be alright once again."

  I stared up at her, this strange reptilian woman who looked at me with such conviction, such certainty that she knew who I was. In her world, in her reality, perhaps she did. Perhaps her Alec had loved her as fiercely as she clearly loved him.

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  But I wasn't him. And as she lifted me to my feet, her grip firm but careful, I felt a profound sense of displacement—a stranger in a familiar land, wearing a life that wasn't mine like an unfitting coat filled with razor blades.

  Nessy lay on the ground nearby, her fury having given way to quiet resignation. Our eyes met across the limestone path, and I saw in her gaze a mirror of my own confusion and loss. We had survived conceptoids and nippers, a magnetic lynx and a Celestorm, only to be undone by the most mundane of obstacles—other people's expectations.

  Krysanthea collected our Sandwichu Tree, holding the bucket at arm's length as if it might bite her.

  "This will need to be properly disposed of," she said, her professional tone returning. "According to protocol."

  "Please don't," I said, hating the hint of desperation in my voice. "It's harmless."

  "Oh, Alec. That's what all Systemfall corruption victims say." Kristi sighed, a sound like wind through dry leaves. "Let's get you both back to the station. Once that thing is destroyed and the contamination is purged from your system, everything will make sense again."

  The irony wasn't lost on me. In a world where dogs talked and dinosaur-people enforced the law, I was the one considered corrupted by unreality.

  Krysanthea finished helping me to my feet, then walked over to Nessy, whose eyes never left the bucket containing our tree. The husky's ears were tilted back, her tail hanging limp between her legs.

  My mind raced, searching for a way out of this mess. The handcuffs bit into my wrists. I knew with grim certainty that Ferguson—this Ferguson—was nothing like the haven Nessy had promised.

  Krysanthea’s belief in her rightness was absolute and soon she would destroy the tree Nessy and I worked so hard to make and there was only one thing I could do.

  I would have to die…

  “Fight her,” I mouthed in the direction of Nessy. “Distract her!”

  Nessy's eyes widened fractionally, understanding flashing within them. The resignation vanished, replaced by a spark of feral defiance. She bucked violently beneath Krysanthea's hold, twisting and kicking with surprising force. A low, vicious growl tore from her throat as she snapped her head back, teeth narrowly missing the raptor-woman's arm.

  "Stay still, damn it!" Krysanthea grunted, momentarily caught off guard by the sudden resistance. She tightened her grip, focusing her attention on subduing the flailing husky.

  That was my chance.

  Ignoring the pain in my wrists and the throbbing in my stomach, I surged to my feet and sprinted. Not back toward the station, not toward any illusion of escape, but straight toward the sheer drop-off at the quarry's edge, just meters away.

  The limestone path blurred beneath my squelching green sneakers. The wind whipped past my face, carrying the scent of pine and impending rain. Behind me, I heard Krysanthea's sharp intake of breath as she finally registered my movement, followed by a furious curse.

  "Alec, NO!"

  I heard the scrape of her claws on stone as she released Nessy and launched herself after me. Her speed was terrifying, inhuman. But I had a head start, fueled by desperation and the grim certainty of my plan.

  The edge rushed toward me—a dizzying precipice overlooking the vast, mirror-like surface of the quarry lake far below. Jagged rocks jutted out near the base, dark and unforgiving.

  Krysanthea screamed my name again, closer now. I could feel the air stir as she lunged, her shadow stretching out before me. Her sharp, clawed fingers reached for my shoulder, mere inches away.

  But she was too late.

  With a final, convulsive burst of speed, I threw myself forward, launching my body out over the embankment. Her claws closed over empty air, the momentum carrying her staggering to the very brink.

  There is beauty in falling.

  For a fraction of a second, time stretched like taffy, suspending me between the sky and the water.

  Then gravity reasserted its claim with brutal finality.

  The world spun, a kaleidoscope of blue sky, green trees, and gray rock. I saw Krysanthea silhouetted against the sky, one arm outstretched in a futile gesture.

  The air rushed past me, tearing at my clothes, whistling in my ears. The rocks below grew larger, sharper, their textures becoming terrifyingly distinct.

  The impact wasn't a single event, but a horrific symphony of sensations. A blinding flash of white pain, the sickening crunch of bone, the sensation of my body crumpling like paper. My head snapped back at an unnatural angle. A final, electric jolt surged through my spine, extinguishing thought, sensation, everything.

  Darkness.

  Then, silence.

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