“You’re different,” I whisper and by different I mean beautiful.
Beauty isn’t something I’m accustomed to seeing. I swallow even though my mouth is empty of everything except awe. Instead of meeting her with my usual armor of hostility and suspicion, I find myself softening as though I found a rare treasure perched in that tree and if I startle her, she’ll disappear. It’s like the gentle brush of a feather wakes something up inside of me.
Her eyes don’t leave mine as her shoulders lift and lower, her chest heaving. Something sharp pricks my stomach. She has a blade and this one isn’t dull.
I bring the bird toward her lips, making an offering. She studies it carefully and then sniffs, her nostrils flaring before taking a ravenous bite. She holds the blade to my stomach as she fills her mouth.
“I won’t hurt you,” I say.
“I’d say the same, but I’m not making any promises,” she says after she swallows. Her voice is icy. Yet her eyes don’t leave mine, as if they can’t. Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking.
There’s a howl in the distance.
“You can blame the king for the night howls’ hunger,” I grumble.
Her gaze is cautious, suspicious. “Night howls?”
“The king’s wolves. As if the wall weren’t enough, they make sure no one leaves the boundary and roam outside the walls.” I flash a smile. “I’ve never seen one properly, only the glowing yellow eyes in the hills. They say if one bites you, only human flesh will satisfy your appetite.”
“I didn’t come all this way to be teased.”
“Where did you come from?” I ask, even though the answer is obviously from the north.
“New York.”
“Never heard of it.”
Her eyes narrow. “You’ve never heard of New York? New York City? Manhattan? The Big Apple? Same thing.” She starts humming a tune and then stops herself as though thinking better of it.
My head slides from side to side. “Well, welcome to Raven’s Landing.”
Her gaze disappears as a cloud washes over the moon. But she shifts to the north with a subtle turn of her shoulders.
“What brings you here? You won’t find gold if that’s what you’re looking for. At least, not unless you rob the king.”
“What about silver?” she asks.
My eyebrows crimp together.
“Does the king or wear a silver crown? Or is he known as the silver king?” she asks.
The moon appears again, and I slide my hand toward the hilt of her blade, covering hers, and slowly move the weapon away. I shudder at the contact. I tell myself it’s the cold.
She lowers the blade but doesn’t sheathe it.
“You’ll want to think about whether you really want to use that on me or him.”
“Him? The king?” Her eyes brighten. “Use the weapon on royalty? I wouldn’t dare.”
“I would,” I mutter.
“I don’t understand.”
I take another bite of the bird, tearing the meat with my teeth. Her eyes flash with hunger, and I pass it to her.
“You should know that King Leith isn’t friendly or nice or any other superlative worthy of a leader.”
“But he’s your ruler. I must see him.”
“Not if you want to stay alive.”
“But that’s exactly why.”
“I don’t understand,” I say, echoing her comment.
She huffs. “Where exactly am I? Why am I here? How do I get home?” she asks rapid-fire. “Is this one of those click my heels three times scenarios?” She looks down at her boots, lifts onto her toes, and taps the heels together. Another huff escapes. “Nope.”
Then it dawns on me. New York is in the Terra realm.
“You say that you’re from New York, but you must originally be from here. As far as I know, only those born in Borea can travel between the two realms. Non-magicals are born in Terra and those with supernatural blood are born here. Although, not all Borean’s seem to possess abilities,” I say hesitantly.
She waves her hand in front of my face. “Can you see me? Are we speaking the same language?”
My lips pinch together.
“Look at my clothes. Look at your clothes. I’m wearing a custom-made Peace Officer uniform. And you’re rocking a real Viking look. Don’t get me wrong it works. Like really works.” She stutters a breath. “But no, clearly I am not from here, wherever here is. I’m a New Yorker. Born, raised, and proud of it too.”
“You couldn’t come here, to this realm, unless you were originally from here—the Borea realm.”
Her hand presses against her forehead, she squishes up her face, and then takes a deep breath. “Okay, okay. I’ll play along. I’ve had a really weird day, night, day again. Night. I don’t even know. Please, explain.”
“There’s the Terra realm where you New York must be and the Borea realm where you are now. They exist parallel to each other. Here, in Borea, there are four areas. The Northlands, Westlands, Southlands, and the Eastlands.”
“That’s simple, but can I please speak to your manager?” She crosses her arms in front of her chest.
I can’t help but stare.
She says, “Oh, right. The king. Take me to him.” She pauses. “I already said please and am not the kind of girl to say it twice.”
Her demand gives me pause. Clearly, she doesn’t know the risk her request carries. “I can’t take you to the king,” I reply.
She doesn’t lift her gaze from me as I lower to the base of the tree and lean
