CHAPTER 198

　　Marisol ended up in a dimly lit chamber, the air thick with ancient magic and foreboding. Her grip on the dagger tightened, its energy pulsing against her skin as if urging her forward.

　　She didn't know where she was or how she got there. All she did was allow her senses to lead her, and it seemed this was where she was meant to go.

　　With each step she took, the sense of familiarity grew, though she couldn't quite place it. Marisol's heart rate picked up as it finally clicked, the memories of her immediate surroundings sharpening. It was here, in this very space, that Guinevere had been frozen in stasis.

　　In her dream, it had taken the shape of a forest, but this was its physical form. Guinevere was still here, too, her frozen figure even more menacing in person with an impossibly dark aura.