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“Yeah,” I breathe.

With that, he steps through.

I nearly vomit as my surroundings smear together. The tunnel bends and warps the dark forest around us, the outside world rushing past as Memnon walks along the ley line. These magical roads are little wrinkles in reality, areas where space and time don’t follow normal rules. It means you can cross the world—you can even cross intootherworlds—in seconds. Unfortunately, you can also get lost on these roads.

Fae are masters at crossing them, humans not so much. I never truly learned how to travel them as Roxilana. Instead, I bargained with the magic of these ley lines, giving it gifts in exchange for its assistance. Memnon, on the other hand, did learn. Eislyn taught him.

I hold on tightly to Memnon, breathing slowly so I don’t retch.

He only takes a handful of steps before exiting the ley line. Our blurred surroundings sharpen into more shadowy forest that looks identical to the Everwoods.

“Where are we?”

“Nearly home,” Memnon says, striding through the woods.

“You mean toyourhouse,” I correct him tiredly.

He’s quiet, contemplative, at that, and I don’t know what to make of the mood. I’m so used to Memnon being pushy and conniving and angry with me, it’s unsettling to see this side of him. It’s the side I remember from long ago, but even then, it was always offset by his thirst for war.

We step out of the forest and onto a street, and Memnon leads us down it.

Up ahead, lampposts partially illuminate a massive house. There looks to be tarps on the roof, and whole segments of the house are nothing more than exposed wood or bare drywall. Despite its half-finished state, a warm, inviting glow comes from within.

“Is this the house I burned down?” I ask as we approach it. Between the darkness and the fire damage, I hardly recognize it.

“It is.” Amusement drips from his voice.

I pull away a little and take him in. “You sound proud of that fact.”

“Iam.” Memnon glances at me. A tendril of his magic slips out then, the strand of it curling against my cheek. “Your ferocity is attractive, Empress, even when it’s focused on me.”

“You are unhinged,” I say, but my words lack bite.

Memnon lets out a self-assured laugh. “We make a particularly terrifying pair,” he admits, heading up the driveway of the house.

My stomach flutters at the idea of us as a unit before pushing the thought away. My gaze goes to Nero—wounded, agonizedNero. My panther’s eyes are shut, and his body is still limp. One glance into his mind and it’s clear he’s temporarily unconscious.

Memnon has been so reassuring that Nero will be okay that I’ve let down my guard. But now my guard is back up, and my earlier panic has returned.

The sorcerer’s magic unfurls ahead of us, and the front door swings open, and the lights inside flick on. Memnon strides straight into the house, heading toward the living room as the door swings shut behind us.

I peer curiously at his house. The walls bear no signs that they were incinerated not so long ago, but there’s still a faint scent of smoke that clings to the space, as though it’s soaked into the very bones of this structure. A couple of the walls are bare panels of drywall, and the ceiling above us is partially gone, exposing wood beams and some electrical wiring. All in all, however, it could be much worse.

“How did you fix this place so quickly?” I ask. I don’t even see scorch marks on the remaining walls or the floor.

“Magic and money,” Memnon admits. “It’s still very much a work in progress.”

A plush dog bed lies in the living room, next to a couch that looks new. Memnon sets me down on the couch, then carefully lays Nero out onto the dog bed.

My familiar doesn’t so much as stir.

It’s that lack of reaction that breaks whatever was keeping me together. I move off the couch and toward my familiar. Immediately, my eyesight darkens, and my legs fold.

I must black out, at least for a few moments, because when I blink my eyes, Memnon is holding me upright.

“No sudden movements, sweet mate,” he says. “You’re still badly injured.” Gently, he lowers me to the ground next to Nero, then squats in front of me. He gives me a stern look. “I will tend to Nero first, because I can sense your insistence, but you’renotgoing to move. When I’m done with him, you’re going to let me treat your wounds too. Deal?”

If he is capable of healing Nero, I’ll agree to just about anything.