I did not go to dinner. Instead, while everyone assumed I was still down meditating on the Five Laws and preparing for my exam, I crept to my room and quickly gathered what I would need. It was simple, really, if you had studied here as long as I had.

I knew all about going Sideways, in theory. Of course, as a Speaker, I'd never had a reason to be allowed to practice. Even Shadows only risked it as a last resort.

To slide between life and death posed a huge risk to mortal souls and bodies alike, and that was even if there weren't any powerful, malicious spirits waiting at the border.

I had memorized the glyphs, the bindings, the wards, everything one needed to be a Shadow long ago. Of course, as a Speaker, my extracurricular learning had neither been condoned nor necessary (nor, in any clear words, forbidden), but I'd spent many a night reading Shadow training texts, stolen from the library and smuggled out in my shift the same way other novices often snuck in poetry or racy love stories from the outside world.

While I had zero interest in poetry or romance of any kind, I had a lifelong obsession with the Shadows and every aspect of their work. I even suspected that I knew more of their history than my cousin Min.

But none of that had helped me be chosen as a Shadow instead of a Speaker.

As I returned to the Hall of Realms, my pockets heavy with rope, candle, matches, and the other paraphernalia needed for the ritual, I repressed my own perverse excitement. Right or wrong, I was going to finally walk Sideways, see the endless Stairway to the Stars, and maybe even the Eternal Bridge.

No, that isn't the point, I scolded myself, as I stopped back at the end of the Hall, by the "Fountain '' once more, where I'd heard the spirit the strongest. Such places were the best for opening doors, or so the books said. Wherever spectral energy crowded against temporal energy. Or, in layman's terms, where the space between the layers was thinner.

I took my time to set things up properly, my hands trembling as I enacted each step I'd practiced then thousand times in my head before. I was really doing this. This was real. The giddiness was hard to fight off. I felt like I'd had too much plum wine; the same mixture of anticipation, carelessness, and the looming threat of nausea to come.

After what felt like hours (but was actually more like ten minutes), I positioned myself in the center of the wards. This was the tricky part:

Sacred Law Number 3: Never leave a Binding unfinished.

I completed each form, feeling the layers of binding settle around me as strongly as any physical cord. The binding took immediately, anchoring to the candles and the glyphs I'd carefully chalked in front of the fountain.

When I signed for the release, there was a sudden silence, as if I'd been sealed in a giant soap-bubble. My binding and wards had produced a dome of space – not visible, exactly – but there nonetheless. If I tilted my head, the air reflected off of a curved surface that I could only see out of the corner of my eye.

Ready, I thought, as I settled down into the resting pose. Until this point, everything had been theory. But the wards worked, the binding worked, and now there was nothing left to do but to step Sideways.

I closed my eyes and pictured a great doorway, as Shadow Basics and Fundamentals recommended (on page 57). I took my time, painting in the details: a gleaming edge of stars, moonlight glowing in the center like a radiant window, and most importantly, the silver latch that represented all that stood between the living and the dead.

I have mentioned that theology isn't my best subject. But as far as I can understand, the Realm of the Dead is inverted, resting on the outside edge of our world, but inside out. Sideways is best described as a membrane between Life and Death, or like the shiny, hard to peel off layer between the outer skin of an onion and the actual flesh beneath. Or maybe the space between the loose skin of a tangerine and the actual fruit? 

Even when I think about it, I don't really get it, and that was what I was thinking about in the back part of my brain when I shaped my door.

It was all surprisingly easy. Everything worked exactly like the books described. The door spilled out into my mind just fine, incredibly natural, as if I'd remembered it instead of imagining it. When I reached for the silver padlock that held the door shut, I felt the cool metal in my hands. I sketched the signs for opening, for unlocking, and unbinding, listening for the clicks from within the "lock." When the last binding unfastened, there was a popping sound, but no change.

This was the real test. Shadow Basics and Fundamentals only had a minor appendix that addressed actually getting through the door. Doorways and Thresholds was a little more helpful, if not specific. Page 42, I thought, picturing myself unfastening the lock and pulling the door open in my mind.

Sacred Law Number 5: Never, ever, leave the Door open.

As I recalled, Doorways and Thresholds mentioned that it was best to have defensive wards prepared in case something waited on the other side of the doorway. Shadow Basics and Fundamentals only noted that stubborn spirits often hung around likely locations for the doorway, in the hopes that they could slip back into life without being apprehended by whatever living soul had opened it. I also vaguely remembered something about this in Shadow Chronicles: A Warrior Born, but that was an illustrated fairy story for children, which meant it could only be trusted in theory, rather than in principle.

The space between my door and the blank blackness around it was a deep blue, with a few scattered and sparkling stars gleaming in the gap between. There were no spirits, and no other presence that I could sense.

I lifted my amulet in my left fist, and my mirror in my right, and strode through the girl-sized gap. It was like walking underwater, my limbs suddenly tangling in some invisible, freezing current that fought to knock me off my feet. I was prepared for this, but it still almost tore my mirror from my hand.

I don't know when my soul crossed over, only that everything was suddenly just as real to me as the Hall of Realms I'd been in only moments before.

I couldn't see much past the door. It was like a thick fog, with thinner spots that revealed tantalizing bits of stars or deeper darkness beyond. None of the books I'd read had said anything about a fog, at least that I recalled.

I glanced around, looking for my aunt, or rather, her captive soul, since bodies couldn't walk here (which seems obvious). But the cursed fog was too thick for clear sight.

Opinions were divided on what happened to a vacated body when the spirit walked between. Some writers said that it froze, impervious to natures' processes or decay, while others said it began to accelerate in its deterioration. However, all scholars agreed that the untethered soul was both more potent and more vulnerable once it crossed over.

A logical reader will wonder how the spirit could have possessed my aunt, have held her own spirit captive Sideways. While her body couldn't go Sideways, her spirit could definitely be imprisoned there, and if another spirit consumed her, assuming it was powerful enough to do so, then it could return to her body in her place. But only if the door was open.

Alternatively, it could destroy her soul to break the wards, then return to the world with the door hanging open for any random spirit to wander through.

With this in mind, I turned back to the door cracked open behind me, my mirror and amulet still raised in front of me. Switching my mirror to the amulet-holding hand, I flung myself against the door. It didn't move. At all.

A familiar laugh echoed behind me, but this time it was far too clear, and close.

I whirled back, and saw a small dip in the misty space all around me. I squinted, turning my mirror and amulet holding fist back in that direction, while simultaneously reaching behind me with my free hand. I had to get that door shut, or more people than just my aunt were in danger.

The mist shifted around me, and a sudden chill seized my limbs. I hadn't read about any mist Sideways . . . just the Stairway to the Stars, the Eternal Bridge, the endless expanse of space . . .

The mist seemed to swirl, and then, it ripped me off of my feet with a screech that made me cover my ears with my arms. I was tossed about by the mist, my spirit feeling as tumbled and disoriented as my mortal body would have been.

As I finally managed to get something like upright, I realized the mist was streaming past me.

Out through the open door.

And that spirit was laughing again.