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His meaning is clear:Give it a try.

When he releases my wrist, I take a deep breath.This is not going to work.

I begin to move my arm anyway, sweeping it over the table of wares.

“Slower,” the seller instructs.

Setting my skepticism aside, I slow my movements.

At first, nothing happens.

Surprise, surprise.

Just as I’m about to turn to Des to tell him so, I feel it. It’s just a little tug, but it draws my attention back to the table.

All right, so this brand of fae magic might work on me after all.

Like a magnet, my hand moves to the right side of the table. It slows then stops. I move my hand away to see what weapon I unwittingly picked out.

The dagger is no more than a foot and a half long from hilt to tip. The handle is made from labradorite stone, and carved into the blade itself are the phases of the moon.

For a weapon, it’s awfully pretty.

“A wise choice,” the seller comments. “The blade is made from the mines closest to the Kingdom of Death, and its metal is infused with the blood of titans. The hilt is crafted with the Stone of Many Faces. A powerful weapon made for a worthy individual.”

Cool beans. I’m just glad my hand didn’t land on the huge battle axe on the other end of the table.

“We’ll take the set and a belted holster,” Des says, stepping up to my side.

From behind the counter, the seller pulls out another blade—the twin of the one I picked out—as well as the holster.

I hesitate. “I don’t have money for this.”

Des looks at me like I’m precious before handing coins to the woman. “It’s a gift.”

I’m used to gifts from Des. Back when I was a teenager, he bought me all sorts of trinkets. But I’m no longer a teenager, and these blades are no trinkets.

Still, I accept them.

I take the daggers and holster from the woman, running my hands over them.

“Put it on,” he urges.

I don’t need much more encouragement. I may still have my reservations about owning a weapon, but I’m not going to lie, securing the belted holster to my waist and arranging those daggers onto either side of my hips makes me feel powerful, dangerous. For the first time since I arrived in the Otherworld, I feel like myself again.

All it took were a couple of weapons.

Chapter 12

By the time we leave Barbos for Arestys, the smallest of the Night Kingdom’s floating islands, Des hasn’t told me much about it, so I don’t have any expectations.

I fly next to him, heedless of his mood. The night air ruffles my hair like a lover, the warm current carrying me and Des across his realm.

Flying is still just as thrilling as the first time I took to the sky, and I briefly wonder how I’ll ever return to earth. Before Des taught me to fly, all I wanted was for my animalistic features to disappear. Now I don’t know whether I’ll ever be willing to give them up to be normal. Sure, the wings make things like getting through narrow doors and sleeping on my back nearly impossible, but they’ve also introduced me to a whole other side of myself, one that’s wilder and freer than Callypso Lillis, the lonely PI.

It’s a fairly long flight to Arestys, and when I finally do see the island, I’m surprised by how dark it is. Most places we’ve visited so far have been brightly lit. Only Memnos, the Land of Nightmares, appeared anywhere near this dark, and that sends a wave of trepidation through me.

I catch a brief glimpse of the underside of the island, where hundreds, if not thousands, of caves dot the rocky surface. A few minutes later, Arestys is beneath us, and I get my first good look at the Night Kingdom’s poorest island.