Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
The portal threads shimmered around Alice in a dazzling blur of color—fiery golds, brilliant purples, and waves of liquid blue and green with threads of silver—that wrapped and twisted like the edges of a living tapestry that had been plucked and were slowly unweaving.
Alice stretched her fingers wide, trying to hold her balance on the glowing current of light. It was like balancing on a whip of lightning. Energy surged and crackled beneath her: capricious, wild, and pulsing with a life of its own. She had never encountered such unusual energy patterns.
“Hold it together,” she whispered, trying to keep her voice steady. “You’ve done harder things… sort of. You can do this.”
But she hadn’t done harder things. Not like this. Not hurtling through an inter-dimensional wormhole barely held together and fraying further by the second.
Her gaze darted to her friends. Roam, Jabir, her cousin, Adaline, and Bálint—
“No, no, no!” she gasped as another strand snapped just beyond her reach, flinging Roam and Spring away from her into a spiral of dark green. They vanished in a heart-pounding blink, the hole disappearing before she reached them.
“Roam! Spring!” she cried.
A strangled sob tore from her throat as the current buckled beneath her feet.
Her body whipped forward. She gritted her teeth, weaving her hands in desperate sigils, trying to re-weave the threads of the portal before it collapsed entirely.
She poured her energy into the task, but it fizzled like static against rain.
The energy here was strange—slippery, different. Nothing held. Nothing worked.
“Come on, come on!” she pleaded. “Listen to me. Let me fix this. Please.”
Threads snapped like twigs in a firestorm. Light spiraled. Sound roared. Her heartbeat drowned everything else.
Zohar disappeared in a rush of silver. Then Jabir. Then Amber and Jade.
Alice cried out, reaching for a thread when it crossed over hers.
It shattered on contact.
“Why isn’t it working?” she sobbed, her voice swallowed by the roar of the collapsing portal.
“BáLINT!” she screamed when she saw him ahead. He was struggling to hold on to Adaline, the two of them bound together by a shared current of energy. Their eyes met.
“Alice!” he shouted, reaching for her.
She pushed forward, arms outstretched. Her fingers brushed his. There was a spark of connection—and then she was pulled by a separate thread that yanked her away.
“NO!” she screamed. “Don’t leave me!”
Adaline and Bálint vanished in a spiral of starlight.
Alice twisted midair, her chest aching, throat raw. Her hands continued weaving instinctively, trying to catch hold of something, anything. Her breath came in ragged gasps. Panic swelled inside her, clawing up her throat.
“Stay calm. Focus. Find the rhythm,” she told herself, trying to remember her dad’s teachings, but the words were hollow.
Nothing worked. It was like trying to sing underwater.
Suddenly, a bright white mist surged around her, blinding and thick. It rushed toward her like a living thing, a wave of silence amid the chaos.
She heard a voice—Phoenix?—crying something behind her. A warning. A plea.
Then nothing.
The mist swallowed her whole.
The threads vanished.
The light disappeared.
She was falling.
“Mom! Dad!” she screamed, reaching into the black.
Her stomach twisted as the ground rushed toward her.
“Please, please let this be a dream. Let me wake up. I want to go home. I want to go home.”
She clenched her eyes shut, fighting tears.
“Catch me,” she whispered, picturing her mother’s gentle hands and her father’s powerful arms. She imagined being wrapped in a soft, green mesh—a net of safety.
Her thoughts turned to Bálint.
His smile.
His stubbornness.
The way he looked at her like she was magic herself.
A wave of grief choked her.
Then—darkness.
The sky above the Isle of the Sea Serpent radiated with opalescent hues as the sun dipped toward the horizon.
The sea glistened like liquid sapphire, and beneath its surface, hints of glowing coral reefs pulsed with a soft luminescence.
The air was thick with salt and magic, a heady mixture that crackled with ancient energy.
From the docks, Orion stood with arms crossed, watching the silhouette of an approaching airship. Its silver wings caught the last golden rays of sunlight as it glided over the sea, trailing iridescent steam. The massive dragon-shaped vessel bore the crest of the Isle of the Dragon—Drago’s ship.
On the deck of the airship, Phoenix clutched the railing, her amber eyes locked on the palace, growing larger with each passing second.
Her heart pounded with anticipation. Below, the waters of the protected cove sparkled.
Joy burst through her when she spotted the familiar figure standing near the end of a long dock.
Zohar.
Without a second thought, Phoenix vaulted over the railing.
“Phoenix, wait—!” Carly’s voice was lost in the wind.
Phoenix transformed mid-fall, her wings snapping wide in a flare of molten gold and flame-red. Her dragon form caught the air like a banner, a blur streaking toward the earth. The wind roared in her ears, heart hammering with a reckless joy as she dove.
Zohar barely had time to look up before a ball of black feathers and laughter crashed into him.
He grunted as he stumbled backward, his arms instinctively wrapping around the familiar form that shifted in his embrace. He let out a strangled laugh and pulled her even closer when her arms wound tight around his neck.
“Phoenix,” he breathed.
She leaned back, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “You got stronger,” she teased. “Either that, or I got lighter.”
He looked at her like she was a miracle. “I missed you.”
Above them, Drago’s airship descended slowly, graceful and imposing as it skimmed the waters of the cove toward the waiting dock crew. Moments later, the gangplank extended with a quiet hiss.
Drago descended first, his regal bearing softened only by the warmth in his eyes as he looked toward Orion. Carly followed, little Roo clutching her hand before letting out an excited squeal and racing forward.
“Dolph! Juno! Little Carly!”
Squeals of laughter echoed across the docks as the kids collided in a mess of limbs and joy.
Phoenix pulled Zohar into another hug. “I’m so glad you’re safe. I’m sorry for messing up the portal.”
Zohar shook his head, his arms around her. “Don’t be. Maybe this… will be our best adventure yet. Because I’m learning what it really means to be a leader.”
His gaze flicked over her, protective and assessing. “Are you okay?” His voice lowered as he glanced toward Drago. “Did you get hurt?”
Phoenix squeezed his hand. “I’m fine. Drago and his family helped me. I’m… still trying to understand some things I’ve learned.”
Orion approached, his tall form commanding but relaxed. “Let’s head to the palace. There’s a warm meal waiting.”
Phoenix smiled when Zohar laced his fingers with hers. His eyes held a quiet strength and calm she hadn’t seen in a long time. Her heart gave a quiet thump.
They followed behind the others, their steps slow, reluctant to break the quiet moment between them.
“Have you seen any of the others?” Zohar asked.
Phoenix shook her head. “No. But Drago promised to help find them.”
“So did Orion. I’m just glad you’re okay.”
They walked in silence a moment, the scent of salt and wild magic hanging in the air, the laughter of reunited friends behind them, and the soft worry of the unknown pressing at the edges of their hearts.
“What happened?” he asked.
Phoenix used her free hand to push her hair out of her face.
“To the portal? I’m not sure. When I lost my concentration, I couldn’t bring everything back together again.
It was like… like sticking my finger in an electrical outlet.
Every nerve ending in my body was firing all at once.
I couldn’t focus on pulling it back together. ”
Guilt swept across Zohar’s face, and he tugged her to a stop. Her breath caught when he pulled her into his arms and held her as if he would never let her go. A tremor of emotion ran through him. Rubbing his back, she closed her eyes and thanked the Goddess that he was alright.
“It’s my fault this happened,” he finally said, his voice filled with anguish.
Phoenix pulled back and shook her head. “No! It is not your fault! We all decided to do this,” she replied with a fierce scowl.
He shook his head. “I should have been more responsible. I should have considered all the risks. I-I didn’t think things through. The only thing I cared about was having fun and going on an adventure.”
Phoenix’s heart twisted with compassion as Zohar’s voice cracked, the weight of his guilt clinging to every word like a drowning tide. He pulled her close again and held her as if she were a tether keeping him from being swept away in the storm of regret. And, in a way, she was.
He had always been so full of life—brash, brave, and brilliant. But now? Now he looked like a boy carrying the weight of a crown before he was ready.
She sensed it in the way his arms shook, in the way his voice wavered. This wasn’t just about the portal. It was about the responsibility, the pressure, the terror of failing the people he cared about most.
Phoenix exhaled slowly, her fingers gently brushing the nape of his neck in a soothing rhythm.
He thinks this was his fault… but we all wanted this. We all leaped with our eyes open—and yet, he’s the one shouldering the blame. That’s not fair. That’s not who he is… or who we are.
She pulled back slightly, cupping his jaw with both hands. “Hey. Zohar. Look at me.”
His golden eyes met hers, raw with pain.
“This isn’t just on you,” she said firmly. “We made this choice together. You didn’t drag us into that portal. We jumped. Okay, we more like fell—but you know what I mean. And, yeah, we were reckless… but we’re also growing.”
She swallowed, blinking against the sudden sting in her eyes. “I’ve never seen you like this before—standing here and holding me like the world might fall apart without you holding it together. And I want you to know something.”
“What?” he asked hoarsely.
She leaned in and whispered, “You’re not alone in this. You never were.”
Zohar closed his eyes, nodding, his forehead resting briefly against hers. A moment passed between them—quiet, warm, healing.
Juno’s voice in the distance broke the moment. “Hey, Zohar! Are you coming?”
Zohar laced his fingers through hers once more as they turned and began walking.
The winding path back to the palace was alive with glowing tide flowers, their petals shifting color with each passing breeze.
Bioluminescent vines curled along the edges of the marble walkway, lighting their path in cool shades of teal and soft violet.
Above them, the sky deepened into twilight, stars blooming in the indigo sky like scattered jewels.
The murmur of voices and laughter, rhythmic and full of life, surrounded them. In the distance, sea birds cried out as they returned to their roosts. The scent of salt, ancient stone, and something spicy-sweet—kelp blossoms—soothed the tangle of emotions running through her.
Phoenix breathed it all in and let it anchor her. She had been adrift before, unsure of who she was becoming. But being here, walking beside Zohar again—it helped. They helped each other.
“I’m glad you’re here,” she murmured.
Zohar squeezed her hand. “Me too. I kept wishing… if I just held on long enough, I’d see you again.”
She smiled. “You did.”
They walked in silence for a while, the only sound the quiet crunch of their steps on seashell-studded stone. Lanterns swayed on the balconies of the palace ahead, casting soft golden glows across the carved stone.
Phoenix glanced sideways at him. “You’ve changed, you know.”
He looked over at her, eyebrows raised. “Yeah?”
She nodded. “You… seem different. Stronger. Like the Zohar I always knew you’d become.”
His cheeks flushed. “You really think so?”
“I do.”
A shadow passed over Zohar’s features, and she saw the doubt flicker in his eyes again.
“Don’t lose that, Zohar,” she said gently. “Whatever else happens, remember who you are becoming. That’s what matters. Not just the mistakes or the fear… but the choice to keep going.”
“When did you get so smart?” he teased.
Phoenix laughed and knocked into him.
She looked up at the soaring towers of the palace gleaming under the moonlight—and then at Zohar. He wasn’t quite a boy anymore.
And for the first time since falling through the portal, she didn’t feel broken or lost.
Hope filled her instead.
Phoenix squeezed his hand. “You know, we’re the Dragonlings: we do stupid things, go on marvelous adventures, but we always stick together. If we had never come here, I wouldn’t have known who or what I was meant to be.”
Zohar frowned down at her. “What do you mean? You’re Phoenix. Who else could you be?”
Phoenix gave him a crooked smile. “You know those superheroes Aunt Cara likes to tell us about?”
“Yeah, what about them?”
“Well, I might have a little bit in common with them,” Phoenix said, threading her arm through his as they turned toward the glowing palace.
Zohar released a long sigh. “We may need those superpowers to help us find the others. I hope the rest of the gang are okay.”
Phoenix squeezed his arm. “Me too. I have to believe they are.” She shook her head and snorted out a rueful laugh. “I don’t know where Jabir, Amber, and Jade may have landed, but they were having a good time in spite of the portal going cockeyed.”
Zohar chuckled. “Well, I hope wherever Alice and Adaline landed, they are happy. I know Alice really wanted to see mermaids. She’s going to be so jealous that I got to meet them instead.”
“Let’s hope that she doesn’t land on the Isle of the Monsters. That would really freak her out,” Phoenix murmured as they continued toward the palace.
“Yeah. I think the only other place she might like is the Isle of Magic.”
Phoenix chuckled. “She might actually be bored there.”
“Yeah. A whole different world across the universe and she lands where she can do the same things they can? What are the odds?” he replied with a laugh.
“Hey, guys! Mom made pizza for dinner!” Dolph called.
“Thank you, Goddess! I’m starving!” Zohar groaned as his dragon growled with delight. Grinning, he grabbed Phoenix’s hand and pulled her behind him, their laughter trailing down the path like starlight on waves.