“I just want to minimize the collateral damage as much as I can,” I said quietly. “There aren’t many people in this world I give a damn about. I don’t want those people hurt because of me. Not if I can help it.”
“There is honor in that, demonkin,” Albigard said.
The glow was spreading across the entire wall now, becoming bright enough to hurt my eyes. I blinked rapidly, trying to see through the sheen of tears that had formed across my vision. What lay on the other side of the wall was... not Earth. Panic tried to rise, tried to pull my feet away from the vision of elsewhere.
I was looking at Dhuinne, the place that had spawned these beings whose presence I could barely stand. I was giving myself over to them. Placing myself in the hands of creatures like Caspian Werther. Once I stepped into that world, it was very likely that I would never see this one again.
I stumbled back a single step before I caught myself.
Stop.
Dad’s freedom.
Rans’ safety.
Have you ever played that stupid hypothetical game where you try to decide if you would sacrifice yourself for your loved ones in a crisis? Almost everyone convinces themselves that they would be a hero during an emergency... but when the rubber hits the road, most people don’t run into the burning building. They don’t jump in front of the active shooter, or dive into the freezing water to save the drowning victim.
They save themselves instead.
There was an important difference in this case, though. It seemed highly unlikely that I would be able to save myself. Even trying to do so would mean a life on the run, always looking over my shoulder, wondering every time I faced a new person if they would scream ‘Demon!’ and pull a weapon before trying to kill me.
Rans thought he could put an iron dagger in my hand and teach me to fight the monsters, but I wasn’t at all sure I could live that life. I wasn’t sure I wanted to become that person. I did want Rans to be safe. I wanted my dad to be safe.
I stepped forward again.
Albigard’s hand closed around my upper arm, and I tried not to tremble.
“Come, Zorah Bright,” he said. “Your father is waiting in Dhuinne.”
He pulled me through the space where the wall had been. It was much worse than traveling by portal or ley line, and I nearly doubled over as my stomach tried to rebel at the strangeness of traveling between realms. Albigard hauled me upright, stumbling, and through swimming vision I saw a phalanx of guards blocking our way with swords, crossbows, and glowing balls of magic in their hands.
“State your purpose, Wing Commander,” said the guard at the front. “Why do you bring this creature into Dhuinne unannounced?”
With a jolt, I took in the features of the guards surrounding us. They weren’t human. Which seemed a ridiculous thing to realize when I’d just traveled to a different planet—but all the Fae I’d seen to this point had appeared human enough. I glanced at Albigard, unable to hold back a gasp at the sight of his face in profile.
His hair remained the intricately braided mass of spun gold it had been on Earth, but those braids now exposed faun-like ears swept to a delicate point, along with dark eyebrows that would have made Mr. Spock from Star Trek jealous. His skin seemed to glow with some inner iridescence. It made him almost hard for me to look at.
He stared down his nose at the guard who had challenged him.
“I have a second prisoner from the Chicago overkeep,” he said in a cold, haughty voice. “She is to be placed with the other one that was brought in recently. The human. Where was that one taken?”
The guard hesitated, as though Albigard had gone off-script somehow. I tried not to succumb to panic as the proximity of so many armed Fae made my instincts scream with the need to flee. Albigard only continued to stare down the guards like they were dirt on his boot.
Eventually, the guard’s resistance crumbled, and he broke eye contact with my erstwhile captor. “The human was taken to the eastern quarter, and handed over to the Recorder’s office.”
Albigard’s fingers tightened on my arm—a convulsive twitch so brief I wasn’t quite sure I’d truly felt it—but nothing came through in his voice as he issued a curt, “Very well,” and strode forward, dragging me behind him.
I held my breath as we approached the line of stony, inhuman faces, but at the last moment the phalanx of guards parted. Albigard passed through them like Moses at the parting of the Red Sea, with me still held firmly in tow.
“I will inform the Court of your arrival, Commander Albigard,” the guard threw after us, and I was sure I hadn’t imagined the sting behind those words.
But Albigard only waved the statement off carelessly with his free hand. “Yes. Do so.” The retort sounded positively bored.
TEN
I TRIED TO TAKE everything in as I was dragged away. There were buildings here—functional and laid out around the place where we’d appeared in such a way as to make me think it was a military encampment. That would certainly make sense, if this was really the only way into Dhuinne from Earth. It was also clear that Rans had been right—sneaking into Dhuinne had been a total pipe dream.
It wasn’t the buildings and soldiers that held my attention, however; it was the world itself. Dhuinne was bursting with life. Or at least, this part of it was. Vines and flowers covered everything the Fae had built here. Trees arched over the buildings, grass tried to choke out the cobblestone walkways beneath our feet, huge leaves clustered at the base of every fence and lamppost. I could almost swear that when I stared at the rampant plant life for long enough, I could
