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Grey.

She pictured her friend. His easy, crooked grin. His black hair that seemed to curl into his face in a way that drove all the girls—and many of the boys—back home wild. Not that he was interested in them. The easy way he would grab her hand and pull her into a hug any time she needed one.

Goddess, she missed him.

She focused on their friendship. She knew his face better than her own. His voice was as familiar to her as the sound of rain.

She chanted the words; they came easily to her now, spilling from her lips like a hymn as the moonlit power coursed through her. Her lungs stretched, allowing her to breathe easily. Her heart beat with a firm, steady, beat.

She opened her eyes and saw him.

Grey was no longer in Duskmere.

Chapter23

“Describe to me what you saw one more time, love.” Gryph sat across from Lore at his dining room table the next morning, nursing a cup of coffee.

Lore set aside her toast, untouched. Her stomach was in knots; she couldn’t even think about eating. “It’s hard to tell. I can see him. He’s in a palace. It’s beautiful. Every surface of the room around him is ornamented. There are statues made from gold and the ceilings are covered in paintings. Others gather around him, dressed in finery, like they’re the gods and goddesses themselves.”

“And you can’t get the bowl to show you where this palace is?”

Lore bit her lip, eyeing the bowl in question. During the day, it was a normal wooden bowl filled with water.

“No. I can only see Grey and the ballroom he’s in.” Lore closed her eyes, trying to focus on the details. “I saw a throne on a dais with a female sitting on it. Her hair is piled high above her head like a beehive. Beside her is a small orc with pale green skin and tusks. They’re beautiful. They’re definitely celebrating something.” She couldn’t stop shivering. “I’m worried about him. He looks thin and tired. His eyes are glassy and unfocused. They passed him around to dance like he’s a... a puppet. And then he dropped, exhausted, at the feet of the throne.”

Finndryl and Gryph shared a glance.

“What is it? What do you know?”

“I think I know where he is. How he got there is beyond me, but... the female you saw on the throne, you said her hair resembled a beehive? Was it white, almost silver?” Finndryl asked.

Lore nodded. “Yes!”

“That would be our queen, my dear,” Gryph spoke quietly. He was usually the loudest in the room, so his whisper was slightly shocking.

“Grey is with your queen?” Lore’s mind tripped over itself.

Grey, her best friend who had been trapped in Duskmere just like her, was now, somehow, hundreds of miles away from home with the Queen of Rywandall.

Finndryl looked at Lore with a grimace. “She’s more than four hundred years old. Queen Riella tends to seek out anything new or exciting, so it makes sense she would have ‘collected’ a human.”

Lore’s shivers increased, and her hands started shaking. “Nothing about this makes sense.” Her voice pitched up an octave. “Do you think he’s allowed to leave, or has he become her prisoner?”

“I’m sorry, love. She doesn’t really let them go, not if she wants them,” said Gryph.

Lore ground her teeth, anger seething out of every pore. “Grey is a person, not a pet to add to a fucked-up collection!”

Gryph and Finndryl exchanged a glance again, only adding to Lore’s frustration.

“Don’t do that. Don’t keep things from me like I’m a child.”

Finndryl’s voice dropped low, cautious. “I would never keep anything from you. Forgive me, I’m trying to put this delicately. The queen has a host of alchemists in her court. It’s said that once one eats her enchanted food, theychooseto stay.”

“What’s so bad about eating enchanted food?” Lore looked at Finndryl with wide eyes, imploring him not to break her heart.

He returned her gaze, his eyes filled with regret. He reached a hand toward her before clenching his fist and withdrawing it. “All other food will taste like ash upon their tongue. All other drink will feel as if they’re quenching their thirst with sand. Those who eat her food become consumed with want, and they will do anything for the chance to taste her wine and eat her cakes again.”

“No. That wouldn’t happen to Grey. He wouldn’t eat it.” Lore slammed her fist on the table as she shook her head. “Grey is the strongest person I know. He would fight it.”