Page 9

Every time I moved, the world tearing apart and reassembling around me, the ember softened a little. From the burning explosion of power that had consumed me in the throne room, to this amenable thing resting in my chest.

But I couldn’t rest. I didn’t know where I was, but it certainly wasn’t Baylaur or anywhere in the elemental kingdom.

The willows swayed in the breeze. I followed their direction, my gaze tracking along the edge of the clearing to a small gap in the trees.

Not just my gaze; my feet were moving too. I stared down at them in confusion. I didn’t remember standing. Had I landed on my feet?

No.

I touched my backside, confirming what I already knew. The back of my gown was wet with dew. It could have been wet from any of the watery realms I’d fallen through, couldn’t it? Every one of them had that thread—wetness, water…

I shook my head, dislodging the thoughts even as my feet continued moving. I didn’t have time to piece this all together now. I needed to focus on getting out, getting back, at least locating myself in whatever Ancestors-damned realm I’d been dropped into.

The grass was soft beneath my feet, squishy and wet with every step. My shoes were soaked through, useless silk slippers meant for a palace feast. I shucked them off entirely, letting my toes dig into the blades of grass.

As they curled around my toes, I imagined the blades that Arran had summoned to disable the skoupuma. I imagined that it was his touch caressing me.

It helped ground me as I pushed aside the curtain of willows and peered out to the source of that breeze.

Another lake.

But there was nothing welcoming about this one.

It was the most beautiful place I’d ever seen. The water was a clear, crystalline blue that allowed me to see the gently swaying water plants just below the surface. Steady melodious waves lapped at the shore. The shore itself was made of tiny, rocky pebbles. But they were round and unnaturally polished, and I knew without trying it out that if I stepped onto them, they would be smooth and welcoming against my feet.

But every instinct inside of me screamed a warning.

Even as my eyes were drawn upward—compelled. I couldn’t control it, just like I hadn’t been able to control the movement of my feet. This place had a sentience all its own, and it wanted me to look across the water.

Through the mist. A shimmering mist of rainbows that seemed like something out of a childhood fantasy. As the first rays of morning sunlight slipped over the horizon, those rainbows danced over the blue water in a mesmerizing, undulating ripple. And then those rainbows parted, the mist melting away enough to reveal an island in the center of the lake. Upon its shore, a lady.

I had no doubt this was what I’d been drawn to see. Across the clearing, to the edge of the lake, so I could see her watching me.

Unease slid down my spine. She was indeed watching. Too far for me to make out any of her features, and yet, I felt an eerie knowing. Like I was meant to be here, meant to know who she was, but yet it was all wrong. The pieces did not quite fit together.Idid not quite fit together.

The ember inside of me sputtered.

But then I felt the pull.

Right in the center of my chest, a tug. Hard, demanding, relentless. Like a tether had been wrapped around my heart and whoever held the other end was pulling me back.

I knew who held that tether.

I closed my eyes, blotting out the lady on the other side of the lake, focusing all my attention on that pull.

I felt the threads of my being start to fray apart. That excruciating but now achingly familiar sensation scrambled the mist and the trees and the cool dawn air, pulled it all apart into nothing. Then I was in free fall.

6

ARRAN

“You each have three minutes to make your case for where we start looking first,” I said. I’d used the strategy with my generals for decades. It was the fastest way to determine where everyone stood and to find out where the conflicts were. If they couldn’t articulate their reasoning in three minutes, I didn’t want to hear it.

Three minutes. Four Knights of the Round Table. Twelve minutes. It was more than I wanted to spare. More than it had taken me to kill twenty-two bystanders in the throne room.

They exchanged glances.

I looked at the clock in the corner of the room.