Belladonna

question.
    "No." She paused again. "My head hurts."
    She felt Michael's lips against her ear. Felt those lips curve into a smile.
    "Then stop pulling on your hair," he whispered.
    She put her hands down — and looked at two pairs of green eyes that were sharp with worry.
    "I'm all right," she said.
    "You're going back to the Den," Sebastian said.
    "No, I'm not."
    "Leave the woman be," Michael said. "The land is sour here, and I'm thinking the badness that changed Dunberry spilled over a bit."
    "This has happened before," Glorianna said, knowing by the way Lee sucked in a breath that he wouldn't keep that bit of information to himself and that she could look forward to one of Nadia's rare, full-tempered scolds when she got home. "The Eater tried to turn me away when I altered the pond to shut off the death rollers' access to this landscape. Now Its resonance in the Dark currents around the bridge brushed against me, tried to turn me away from crossing the bridge with you." She looked over her shoulder at Michael.
    "Will crossing that bridge put you in danger?" Michael asked.
    She gave the question serious consideration before shaking her head. She slipped out of their protective circle and retrieved her pack. Clothes, toiletries, some gold and silver coins, since those were acceptable tender in any landscape. Pencils and some folded sheets of paper to make notes of what she saw and how landscapes connected. A canteen clipped to the outside. Michael carried a bit of food, along with all his belongings — enough to get them through a lean meal or two if Dunberry turned elusive.
    She had traveled farther with less fuss simply by crossing over to one of her distant landscapes. Wasn't the same.
    She hugged Lee, an awkward business since the pack got in the way.
    "We'll be back in a few days," she whispered in her brother's ear.
    He kissed her cheek and whispered back, "Travel lightly."
    Sebastian next, and just as hard to say good-bye. Harder in some ways.
    Don't get maudlin, she thought. Don't feed the Dark currents. You could get back to the Den faster than they can.
    "Travel lightly," Sebastian said, looking at Michael.
    "And you," Michael replied softly. Then he held out his hand to her, linked his fingers with hers.
    Together, they walked across the bridge.
    A familiar road. Familiar land in terms of the looks of it. But a terrible, sour music that ripped at the heart. When he'd last been in Dunberry, he hadn't known what had caused the change in the village. Now his stomach churned with the knowledge of what had come to this place and what the Eater of the World had done to these people.
    "Do you feel it?" Glorianna asked, looking around.
    "Darling, the only good thing I'm feeling is your hand in mine," he replied.
    "There's an access point nearby." She moved toward the stream's bank, tugging him with her.
    He'd known the world had done one of its little shifts — no, that they had crossed over to another landscape — the moment his foot had touched the road, but he still looked across the stream to confirm Lee and Sebastian weren't there.
    "This is the spot," she said, crouching down.
    Since he wasn't about to let go of her hand, he crouched with her. "I don't see anything."
    "What do you hear?"
    A dark song, but faint and scratchy. What he heard clearly was her — the light tones as well as the dark.
    "It can't touch me," he said, staring at her as the wonder of that truth filled him. "When I fought It, I was being pulled into darkness — and I chose what darkness would be my fate. So I can hear what It has done to Dunberry, but Its song is nothing more than a scratchy annoyance."
    "Then what do you hear?"
    "You." He watched her eyes widen. " 'Her darkness is my fate.' That was the choice I made. And that choice has made me tone-deaf to the Eater." He waited a beat, then tipped his head to indicate the stream. "So what is it you're feeling here, Glorianna Belladonna?"
    "This is the Eater's point of entry when It comes to this landscape," she said.
    "Like those bits you have in your garden?" He waited for her nod. "So It's made a garden?"
    The arrested, thoughtful look on her face kept him silent.
    "It turned the school into Its garden," she finally said. "The school is now full of Its creatures, so that would be the safest place to maintain Its own dark landscapes."
    "Is that what Dunberry has become? One of Its dark landscapes?"
    "A lot of Dark currents here, more than is natural for this place. But despite