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“What’s it got to do with me?”

“You are a Door Master. Without you, theEcotoneremains closed, and I cannot cross back into Azlandia.”

“You need me to reopen the door?”

He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter which is opened, just as long as it’s close to where I reacquire the Wendigo.”

“No way.” Her hand tightened around the glass, making her knuckles go white. “You’re on your own with that thing. I’m not going with you.”

“No choice. No one can open doors but you.”

“If Queen What’s-her-face —”

“Lyonesse.”

“Whatever,” she muttered, making a who-cares gesture with her hand.

“Details matter, princess.”

She glared at him. “If she’s so powerful, why can’t she —”

“Only a Door Master has the ability to command theEcotone. It will not welcome, or answer to, anyone else.”

“I don’t know how to do what you’re asking,” she said, unease making her talk faster. “It was an accident the first time. I have no idea what I did to open that door… or how to do it again.”

“I’ll teach you.”

Her mouth fell open. “You?”

“Don’t discount me, Truly. I may be an Assenta, but I understand how magic works,” he said, tempting her with knowledge she didn’t yet hold. “I can help you while I’m here… if you allow it.”

Uncertainty rose in her scent. She chewed on the inside of her lip. “You’ll have my back?”

“Yes,” he murmured, regretting the lie, unable to do anything about it. He’d made a promise to keep her safe… until the time came to let her go. A little bit of something, after all, was better than nothing.

“All right,” she said softly. “But you need to remember something.”

“What’s that?”

“You have my back, I’ll have yours. You’re not alone anymore, Westvane.”

Her statement made his chest tighten. Wicked, wicked woman. For a clueless Door Master, she wielded her intellect incredibly well.

“You hear me?”

“Loud and clear.”

“Good,” she said. “Don’t ever forget it.”

Not knowing what else to do, he downed his drink, powering through what her words made him feel. Westvane didn’t want the emotion or need the turmoil. He wanted to keep her at arm’s length and hold onto his secrets. He needed to remember who he was — and how he’d always survived. Otherwise, he’d forget Truly wasn’t his friend and tell her everything he didn’t want her to know.

11

HOW DRUNK ARE YOU?

Westvane was hiding something. Something important. Details he didn’t want her to know. He wasn’t lying… exactly. But the longer Truly talked to him, the more she picked up. He twisted her inquiries and turned them inside out, dodging her questions by delivering interesting tidbits that answered nothing while refusing to tell her the full story.

The terms of her “partnership” with him weren’t negotiable. He wanted her help. She needed the truth. And whether he liked it or not, she would get it before he got a scrap of information out of her.