It was a dizzying sensation. One second Margo was walking a hallway inside of Castle Whitespire, the next her haute couture heels were clicking against a cement sidewalk. Her eyebrows instantly wrinkled as her defenses went up. Obviously this was magic of some kind. She hadn’t used the button, but somehow she’d been transported to a place that very clearly was not Fillory.

“…the fuck?” She muttered under her breath. There was small comfort in the fact that this wasn’t some deserted, dystopian landscape. People were actually walking the sidewalk with her. Margo took pause to side-eye some of them even though it was her that stood out like a sore thumb with her crown settled right where it belonged on her head.

“Hey!” Margo stopped a passerby in their tracks, grabbing them by the arm in a way that was uncharacteristically gentle for her mood. “What is this place and how am I supposed to get back where I belong?”