When the Moonstone Calls Your Name

Previously

…Speak the name that calls you home— And open the dreaming door." Pip looked at me, eyes shining. “Well? Got a name worth trying?” My heart hammered. I squeezed the leaf and whispered, “Nova.” The stone brightened, and the river parted, revealing a small arched door set into the hillside beyond. Its surface rippled like water, waiting. The leaf in my hand burned bright and steady, pointing the way. I glanced back at Pip, who nodded. “Go on, Nova. This is your story.” As I stepped toward the door, the silver river hummed louder, and the world seemed to lean in, holding its breath. The door began to open—and I had no idea what waited on the other side.