Rachel smiled at everyone through her tears. “I’ll make sure your letter reaches your parents,” she promised Jason. “And those huge gems as well. I won’t mess up the photographs.”

“Good-bye, Rachel,” Jason replied.

Rachel checked the pair of nondescript satchels over her shoulders. Brin had waterproofed them. She grabbed the ropes connected to the weights, then nodded at Brin. “Toss them in.”

Brin grabbed one weight; Jasher gripped the other. Both weights went into the pool, and Rachel went with them, letting their heaviness pull her forward and down. The water was shockingly cold, but she kept a tight grip on the ropes and sank rapidly. Rachel stared down into the darkness.

Farewell, Corinne, she conveyed.

Farewell, Rachel. The answer came faintly, as if from a mile away.

Rachel realized that if she let go of the weights, she could swim back up. Or had she already sunk too far? Would she drown in the attempt?

Can you still hear me? Rachel conveyed with all her might.

She sensed no answer.

Rachel tried not to panic as she ran out of air. Jason had warned it would be like this. She kept hold of the ropes, but it began to feel as if she was rising instead of sinking. Or maybe moving sideways. It was hard to stay oriented in the total darkness. The water seemed to be getting thicker, and it bothered her eyes enough that she closed them. Her speed seemed to increase. She collided with a yielding barrier, and suddenly she was on her back in a moonlit cornfield, spitting soil from her mouth as she gasped warm air into her starved lungs.

The scene was just as Jason had described, except he had arrived during the day. How late was it?

All her belongings had made it through with her. Standing, she tried to brush mud from her soaked dress with little success. She spoke words to extract the moisture. The Edomic command felt dead in her mouth. The water did not respond. She tried several commands. They all tasted like gibberish.

She had known this would happen, but she had not been prepared for the reality of Edomic feeling and performing like nonsense. It was as if the law of gravity had ceased to function. It was comparable to amputation or paralysis.

Slowing her breathing, Rachel fought the rising panic. What would she do without Edomic? She was stuck here. There was no sure way back! She thought of her parents, and her panic receded.

Turning in a circle, Rachel spotted a glow that suggested a farmhouse. Leaving the weights behind, she started walking.

Some of the lights were on in the house. Rachel opened the squeaky screen door and knocked. A middle-aged woman answered. “Yes?”

“I’m sorry to disturb you,” Rachel said. “I’m lost.”

Looking Rachel up and down, the woman placed a startled hand against her chest. “Another one? How can—never mind—you poor thing! You’re drenched! Come inside.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t tell me you lost your memory.”

Rachel realized that she had better play it up. “Actually . . . I’ve felt really confused lately. Everything has been . . . hazy . . . disconnected. What year is it?”

The woman told her. Rachel nodded vaguely. It had been more than three years since she had disappeared. Rachel felt relieved that it had been long enough to explain why she looked older. The oracle had not let her down. “Can I use your phone?” Rachel asked.

The woman led Rachel to a telephone. Rachel had not punched digits into a phone in roughly six years. The number had not faded from her memory. She called her home. Her mother answered. The sound of her voice left Rachel momentarily frozen. Then, with a fluttering stomach, Rachel explained who was calling. Her mom freaked out, but in a good way. Rachel held the phone away from her ear during the worst of the shrieks and shouts. Soon her dad was on the line as well. Rachel could not resist her growing smile. Within the first thirty seconds their overflowing relief and joy made the decision worth it. Speaking with them made Lyrian recede. Within minutes she felt much more firmly home than she had upon her arrival in the cornfield.

While she talked, Rachel fingered her satchel. Inside was the note Jason had let her read. Once she had developed her photos and made sure the appropriate pictures and valuables were bundled with the message and delivered to his parents, her obligations to Lyrian would be officially concluded. She did not need to open the letter to recall the contents.

Dear Mom and Dad,

You probably think I was eaten by a hippopotamus. I did jump into the hippo tank at the zoo, as I’m sure witnesses have reported. But the hippo did not kill me. This sounds unbelievable, but the hippo was a magical gateway to a place called Lyrian. I realize that no evidence can prove something so seemingly ridiculous, but I have included some jewels and photos to help.

My problem is that there is no sure way for me to travel back and forth between our worlds. I could come home, but it would probably mean never returning to Lyrian. I have built a good life here. I’m one of the leaders of the most powerful kingdom in this world. I have many close friends and important responsibilities. Lots of people count on me. I have a future here. And so I am never coming home from Lyrian. Instead, I am sending this message as both explanation and apology.

This is probably the last you will ever hear from me. I don’t expect another chance to send a message. Please don’t waste your energy looking for me. I am truly beyond your reach. I have risked my life many times to help save this land from a terrible threat. Several of my closest friends gave their lives. In the end we succeeded. As a result there is now so much potential here.

Please don’t worry about me. I miss you, but I am also very happy. The first time I went to Lyrian was by accident. It was what really happened when I vanished. The amnesia was a cover story. I was never content after returning. This second time I came to Lyrian on purpose, and I am staying voluntarily. This is where I belong now. I love you both. My only regret about being here is that I will never see you again. Everything else is better than I could have hoped for.

There is no need to let others know about my true fate. It would just make us all look crazy. But I wanted you to know. Use your best judgment on whether to tell any other family members. If you talk to them, tell them I love and miss them, too. Please take good care of Shadow.

You are wonderful parents. I appreciate all you have given me and all you have done for me. I’m sorry if my disappearance seems ungrateful. Please know that after everyone I have met here, and everything I have gone through, I never could have been satisfied in our world.

Sorry if I come across like a lunatic. Sorry if this note somehow makes my disappearance worse. I sent this with good intentions. I had to try.