Paige clears her throat, mutters, “English, please,” under her breath. She’s demanding the fae speak our language. Please tell me this isn’t why she trusts them. She’s not a naïve sixteen-year-old. Surely she doesn’t believe they’re translating everything they say for her.
Caelar turns his back on me, walks to the door, and stares outside. I can’t see anything past him.
“The rebels won’t win this war,” Tylan says, drawing my attention back inside.
I meet his eyes. “People said that about them taking the palace.”
He lifts a shoulder as if to say, That’s true. “The high nobles won’t approve the daughter of Zarrak unless she hands over the garistyn. She’s had two weeks to do that. She hasn’t, and she’s losing support every day.”
I frown. Garistyn? I’ve heard that word before. Back in Spier when I was shadow-reading with Kyol, I think. Jielan mentioned it. It has something to do with a king or Descendant.
“They haven’t told you about that, have they?” That’s from Caelar. He doesn’t add anything else, doesn’t turn around or move. He just stands there, staring outside, and an uncomfortable feeling gathers in my gut.
“What’s a garistyn?” Paige asks the question. I’m grateful. I don’t want to show curiosity or weakness or anything in front of these fae.
“Kingkiller. You can’t kill a king without consequences,” Tylan says. “They’re Descendants of the Tar Sidhe. You might call them ‘holy.’ The fact is, the high nobles won’t approve Zarrak unless she turns the garistyn over to be executed. She’s protecting the Butcher of Brykeld.”
My stomach sinks. I’m almost dizzy because I think he’s telling the truth. Lena mentioned it before. She was annoyed because the high nobles were insisting she tell them who killed the king. I didn’t realize it was this important, though, and Tylan has it wrong. Aren didn’t kill Atroth. Kyol did.
“Jorreb had nothing to do with the king’s death,” I whisper.
“Some people say the nalkin-shom killed him,” Tylan continues. “The silver walls didn’t protect him. She fissured into his bedroom. Her touch poisoned him, they say. She weakened his magic, and while he was distracted and vulnerable, she sliced open his throat with invisible metal from her world.”
I attempted to slice open Lord General Radath’s throat with shrapnel that was embedded in my arm. The silver walls didn’t protect him because I was fissured to the palace via a Sidhe Tol. Someone’s twisted up and mangled all the details of that day. I never even touched Atroth. I almost don’t mind fae believing that I did, though. It’s better than their knowing Kyol killed him.
“You’re going to tell us how to get into the palace,” Caelar says from the doorway. He leaves without giving me a chance to respond, not that I would have answered the way he wanted me to.
Tylan watches him go, concern in his eyes. It vanishes when he realizes I’m watching him.
“Paige,” he says, extending his hand.
“Can I have another minute?” she asks.
He looks at me. “Just a minute. I’ll be close by.”
“He trusts you,” I say, after Tylan leaves.
“About as much as I trust him,” she says. “He’ll be right outside.”
I lift an eyebrow. That doesn’t exactly sound like a vote of confidence.
Paige runs a hand through her perfectly chaotic hair, and an edarratae flashes across her face. She scoots closer to me, lowers her voice to a whisper that I can just barely hear.
“That’s what I wanted to tell you before,” she says. “I’m not relying on what the fae tell me. They don’t know Lee speaks their language. He’s translated what they’ve said in Fae. That tip was anonymous, and they honestly believe the rebels killed those humans.”
“Lee speaks Fae?” I ask.
Paige nods. “I made a deal with him. If he told me what he overheard, I wouldn’t tell the fae about the serum.”
The serum again. She really doesn’t know the consequences of what Lee did to her.
“Lena would have used the serum against Caelar,” Paige continues. “I couldn’t let that happen, so I told Tylan about it. Lee was pissed, but…Well, I convinced him to get the serum.”
Is she blushing? There’s not much light in here, and her chaos lusters make it hard to tell for sure, but I’m almost certain her cheeks are pink. When we were at the palace, she said she and Lee hooked up after her sister’s wedding. In Paige-speak, that means they slept together. I think she slept with Lee again to convince him to get the serum. If there wasn’t a hint of pink on her cheeks, I’d say that was a whorish thing to do, but Paige never blushes when she talks about sex. She really is into him.
She clears her throat. “Lee was supposed to just walk in and walk out with it. There wasn’t supposed to be a fight.”
“Is Lee here?” I ask, hating that any feelings she might have for him are likely to end very soon.
“Yeah, he’s…” Her gaze flickers to the left. There’s just a wall there, but I have the impression Lee’s somewhere in that direction. “He helped Tylan bring you here. I’m not sure if that was his choice or not. He’s not acting like himself. He’s quiet and angry, I think. I need to talk to him.”
“Paige,” Tylan calls.
“One second,” she says over her shoulder. Then she turns back to me. “Look, I know you wouldn’t join the rebels just because you’re in love with a guy, and I was thinking. I’m certain the Court fae didn’t kill the humans in London, but I’ll admit that there’s a chance that maybe the rebels didn’t kill them either.”
“Paige,” Tylan says again.
“I have to go, but…These fae aren’t bad people, McKenzie. I promise.”
TWENTY-FOUR
I LET MY head fall back against the wooden beam. I’m so thirsty. The remnants haven’t given me anything to eat or drink. They keep asking me how to get into the palace. They think I know the shifting pattern of safe fissure zones Kyol devised. I don’t, and even if I did, I wouldn’t tell them.
I think about what Paige said, that these fae aren’t the bad guys, but it’s hard to believe that with my stomach cramping from hunger and a headache pounding behind my eyes. The latter is from dehydration. The In-Between will do that to you if you’re not careful, and I can’t remember the last time I had something to drink.
I’m pretty sure it’s well past 5 P.M. on Friday by now. I’ve missed my meeting with Jenkins. Maybe I can convince him something came up, that I came down with the flu or had a death in the family. Of course, before I can convince him of anything, I have to get out of here in one piece.
I’m staring off into space when there’s a noise from a few feet away. It’s the same noise I’ve heard more than once since I was brought here, a tiny little squeak. For all I know, we could be in the middle of a forest. It could be one of a million animals I don’t know the names of, but on a whim, I make a clucking noise. Immediately, two bright blue eyes peer in the crack between the ground and the wall.
No fucking way.
“Sosch?” I whisper.
The eyes blink.
It’s him. It has to be him.
I make a kissing noise. His whiskers twitch, and his head turns to the left, then to the right, as if he’s checking traffic before crossing a street. After a quick chirp-squeak, he scurries under the wall and into my arms. Which is kind of awkward considering my wrists are shackled together.
“You don’t have a picklock on you, do you?” I ask, scratching him behind the ears. He purrs, then rubs his furry face against my cheek. My nose tickles. Apparently, kimkis do shed.
“Did Aren send you?” I ask quietly though I don’t know if kimkis can be sent anywhere. From what I’ve seen, they have minds of their own. Plus, Aren thinks I’m dead. Sosch has found me on his own before; my guess is he’s done it again.
Sosch chirp-squeaks, then scurries out of my arms, dragging his long body behind me. He nestles down between my back and the base of the wooden beam.
I fade off. When I wake up, Paige is sitting against the wall beside the door. Sosch is still behind me. I don’t think she can see him, but I try to make myself take up as much room as possible, just in case. I don’t want the remnants to take him away from me.
When Paige doesn’t say anything, I take a closer look at her, and immediately, my heart sinks. Her eyes are red, puffy, like she’s been crying.
“You talked to Lee.”
She draws in a breath, nods, then lets it out.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “This is my fault.”
She closes her eyes. “It’s not your fault, McKenzie.”
“I was trying to hang on to my human life,” I tell her. “That’s why I was in school. That’s why I picked up the phone every time you called and kept agreeing to go on those blind double dates—which I hated, by the way.”
“None of those guys were right for you.” She smiles before she opens her eyes. “Sorry about that. I didn’t know you preferred fae.”
“I don’t prefer fae, I just…” God, it must seem that way.
She shrugs, then she picks up the tablet computer resting beside her. It’s so thin, I didn’t notice it before, but the screen lights up when she touches it.
“I’m surprised this works here,” she says.
“There’s no way to charge the battery, but the Realm doesn’t mess with tech.” The tech just messes with the Realm, according to some fae. “Do the remnants know you have that?”
She sniffs. “Yeah, Caelar’s not happy. He’s making me take it back to Earth.”
“He knows what’s on it?”
She looks up from the screen, meets my eyes, and nods. “The serum’s terminal, though. He’s not going to use it.”
But he would have. He’ll do anything to kill Aren and get rid of Lena.
“It’s funny,” Paige continues, toying with the edge of the tablet. “I was in Bedfont House because I tried to commit suicide. Now, ten years later, I’m dying, and all I want is to live.”
It’s not funny at all, but it’s just like Paige to underplay something like this. Back when we were roommates, she talked lightly about her deliberately reckless behavior—the street race that resulted in a bad wreck, the time she took a running leap off her roof and landed in the neighbor’s pool. The bottle of cold medicine she downed that led to her being institutionalized definitely wasn’t her first suicide attempt; it was just the first time her dad woke up and realized there was a problem.
I’m glad Paige is admitting she wants to live, though. The nurses and attendees at Bedfont House might have violated dozens of federal regulations, but the medicine and psychologists helped her work through her depression.
“Anyway,” Paige says, clearing her throat, “I dated this guy named Rob once. He’s getting his PhD in chemistry. I’m going to take the tablet to him, see if he can figure out what’s wrong with us.”
“You’re going to tell him about the fae?” The last part of that comes out a little high-pitched, partly because it surprises me but also because Sosch shifts, snuggling closer to my back.
“I don’t know why you didn’t tell me about them,” Paige says. “I would have understood.”
“You would have thought I was crazy.”
“No, I wouldn’t have. I would have—”
“You thought Lee was crazy,” I point out.
She deflates a little. “Well, I’ll make Rob understand. I’m not letting this beat me.”
Good. I give her a tight-lipped smile. Out loud, I say, “I’ve been thinking about what you said before, about the remnants not killing those humans. I think it’s possible it could be someone else. If we could get Lena and Caelar to meet—”
Paige shakes her head. “Caelar won’t negotiate. He won’t even talk to the rebels because of Brene.”
“The tor’um?”
“Yeah. They were going to…” She frowns, trying to recall a word. “Whatever the fae equivalent of marriage is. A bond or something.”
“Life-bond,” I say.
“Yeah, that. But then Aren captured her.”
She doesn’t need to say more than that. I know what happened afterward. I’ve seen her.
“You should see the way he takes care of her,” Paige continues. “It’s sweet. She’s crazy as hell, but he loves her still.” She draws in a breath, lets it out. “I have to admit, I, too, wouldn’t mind seeing Aren dead for what he did.”
My jaw clenches. I have to consciously make it relax. Aren’s past is his past. He’s not a ruthless, barbaric fae; he’s a fae who wanted to save the life of a friend. I don’t approve of what he did, but I understand it.
“Are you staying with the remnants?” I ask.
“I’m not going to let the rebels kill them,” she says, tucking the tablet under her arm. “But I can’t help them if I’m dead. I’m going back to Earth soon. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
I’m not exactly okay, but things could be worse. “If you could talk the remnants into giving me something to drink, I’d appreciate it.”
She stops midrise. “They haven’t given you water?”
“No.”
“What the hell.” She straightens fully. “I’ll be right back.”
She doesn’t come “right back,” but she does eventually return with a wooden mug filled to the brim with water. The liquid sloshes over the edge when I take it.
“I’m going to try to talk some sense into Caelar before I leave,” she says. “I don’t know if he’ll listen. It might help if the rebels send Brene back to him. It’d be a gesture of good faith.”
“They don’t know about Caelar,” I say, but she’s already closing the door behind her. I hear the lock click into place, sealing me in the dark.
Lightning flashes across the hand holding the mug. I lift it to my lips and something in it makes the tiniest thunk. I pause, midsip, and stare at the wooden bottom. My edarratae are bright enough to make out an object lying there submerged in the cold water.
I reach inside, pull out a key, a key that looks like it’ll fit in the tiny lock of my shackles.
Paige just handed me my freedom.
PAIGE put our friendship before the Realm. When the rebels caught her, I helped them keep her prisoner. I even tried to help them recapture her when she escaped with Tylan. I spend half the night feeling guilty about that and waiting for the right moment to make my escape. If my internal clock isn’t completely broken, something close to an hour passes without any sound or sign from the fae. I think they might all be sleeping.
Finally, I slip the key inside the lock and turn it.
The shackles fall from my wrists.
I’m going to need the biggest head start I can get, so I don’t waste any time. I crawl to the gap Sosch entered through and start digging. It’s not as easy as I want it to be. I end up going back for the shackles to use them to gouge into the ground. That helps, but it still feels tediously slow.
“You could help,” I whisper to Sosch when he makes an appearance to sniff at my work. His whiskers twitch as if he thinks he could do a better job, but he just curls up into a ball, resting his head on his front paws.
I don’t know how long it takes to make the hole big enough to slip through. It feels like hours, but it’s still night when I start wiggling under the wall. I barely fit. The wood scrapes against my skin, catches on the waistband of my jeans. For a good two minutes, I’m almost certain I’m going to get stuck. I’ve never been overly self-conscious or critical of my body, but I’m praying for smaller hips and a few less pounds when I finally—finally!—tear my way free.
And I do mean tear. My right hip is red and angry, the skin frayed and bleeding. I pull my jeans up, my shirt down, then rise to a low crouch, ignoring it while I survey my surroundings.
There’s a reason why I’ve been freezing my ass off—the remnants are camped on the side of a moun
tain. For a moment, I’m disoriented, thinking maybe we’re still back in Boulder, but the lightning on my skin and the lightness to the atmosphere proves otherwise.
Behind me, Sosch squeaks.
I turn around quickly, picking him up to keep him from making any more noise. Tents are set up around this shack, five within my line of sight. I assume there are more on the opposite side of my little prison. I’m sure remnants are guarding its door, too, or at least watching it.
I look into the wooded area that leads farther up the mountain. I am so not dressed for that hike. My jeans and long-sleeved T-shirt won’t provide enough protection from the elements, and my hands are already numb from digging in the cold soil. I want to go down, but up will take me away from the remnants.
Sosch sluggishly climbs from my arms to my shoulders. I let him stay there, then I finger-comb my hair so that it’s covering most of my face. After tugging my sleeves down over my hands, I have most of my skin hidden. I don’t waste any more time; I silently jog to the woods.
Honestly, I shouldn’t call it a woods. It’s more like a few scattered trees that decided to brave the increasingly rocky soil. They don’t offer much protection from the wind or from any eyes that might look this way, whatever this way is. The Realm has four mountain ranges. This could be any one of them, but…
But Paige and Lee are in the camp. There has to be a gate near here. Of course, a gate won’t help me unless I find a fae I can trust to take me through it. I wish there was some way to know where I am, where I’m going, but there’s not right now. All I can do is put as much distance as possible between me and the camp. When the sun rises, maybe I’ll be able to orient myself.
Hours later, the sky brightens. I’m not going up the mountain anymore because I can’t. The incline is too steep to attempt without a rope. As it is, there’s a very real possibility of breaking my neck. I set Sosch on the ground because I’m worried about him falling or making me lose my balance. I’m weak, partly from not eating or drinking and partly because I’m just so damn worn-out.
Sosch chirps and scurries over the rocky ground. I let him lead the way because he’s choosing a path I can actually follow. I feel bad, though, that he’s stuck with me. Normally, he wouldn’t be. Fae open fissures so often, he’s almost always able to scurry into the In-Between and hop out wherever he wants. Guess being stranded is a downside of getting attached to a human.
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