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“Yes?”I say, holding my breath.

Her features crumble.Her expression is pitiful as she says after a slight hesitation, “One of them led to where I left you and Aruan.”

I go cold.My stomach tightens with a horrible foreboding.“My parents’ house?”

She blows out a breath.“Yes.”

I stare at her, frozen in place as my pulse runs wild.“What happened?”

“There’s been an accident.”She adds in a soft tone, “A car accident.”

“What?”I pull my hands from hers, the action robotic, my breathing mechanical.“How bad is it?”

My heart hammers in my ears as I wait for the verdict, praying with everything I’ve got, making bargains with gods I don’t know and deities I’ve never believed in.

“I’m afraid your mother is critical.”

Critical.

The word registers in my mind, but my brain struggles to process it.

Critical.

That can’t be right.I was the one who was supposed to die first.Not my mom.

No, please, not Mom.

“Elsie, I’m sorry.”

I steel my spine and force myself to operate past the shock gluing me to the spot.“I have to see her.”

“Of course,” the queen says gently.“Aruan has to continue the search.He can’t go with you, but I’ll accompany you to protect you and bring you back.”

Now that we know Tarix is the traitor, we have to stand together.The queen needs both Aruan and me more than ever.I don’t think she’ll harm me.

I grasp the offer with a grateful nod, swallowing down the tension that squeezes like a band around my throat.

She tightens her hold on my hands.“Ready?”

“Hurry,” I whisper.“Please.”

A portal appears.We’re sucked inside, where I break apart with the same ferocity as always, but the emotional pain wreaking havoc inside me is much worse.

I wake up on the floor with Aruan’s mother standing over me.Touching my temples, behind which a headache is building, I look around.I’m in a cabin with wooden walls and floors.A single shelf is stacked with cooking pots.A foldout sofa faces a cold fireplace.The windows are barred with shutters, just enough daylight spilling through the cracks to illuminate the space.

This isn’t my parents’ living room.I’m about to tell the queen so when, right in front of my eyes, she changes shape.

What the…?

I scurry backward like a crab on my palms and heels.She keeps on transforming like a snake shedding its skin until Tarix looms over me.

I pinch my eyes shut, but when I open them, the man in front of me isn’t a vision or a trick of the light.It’s truly him.

How did he do that?He dismantled and reassembled his organic matter as easily as if he were reprogramming himself.

My heart stutters, my breath catching in my throat.I dare a brief touch, poking his shin with the toe of my boot.Yep.He’s definitely real and, sadly, not a figment of my imagination.

I stare up at his neutral expression, trying to sound brave and not as freaked out as I am.“What the hell is going on?”