When the last rays of sunlight fade from the window across from me, Lord Raen approaches.
“Come,” he says, walking by without so much as a glance. He doesn’t check to see if I’m following, not until we descend a staircase. Halfway down, he stops and draws a dagger.
I freeze. Despite the fact that I’m standing three steps taller than him, it takes an effort not to scurry backward as he twists his wrist slowly back and forth. A menacing gesture if I’ve ever seen one.
“Poison,” he says, and I see something wet glistening on the edge of the steel. “Draw blood and your opponent will fall.”
“Dead?” I ask, heart thumping in my chest. I don’t want to kill anyone, especially someone who’s just doing his job.
“Unconscious.” He slides the dagger back into the scabbard and holds it out. “Don’t cut yourself.”
Something moves behind Lord Raen. I hide the sheathed dagger behind my back, tucking it into my waistband. The fae climbing the stairs is dangerous. I sense it in his slow ascent, in the way his gaze slides from Lord Raen to me. The hilts of two swords rise up over his shoulders like demon’s wings, but he’s not a palace guard or one of the king’s swordsmen. He’s dressed in black, nondescript clothing.
Raen steps aside, but the fae doesn’t pass by. He stops beside Raen and the corners of his mouth tilt up in a barely there smile. Maybe he intends it to be pleasant, but to me, it’s just creepy.
“This is Micid, son of Riagar,” Raen says. “He’s ther’rothi.”
I frown. “Ther’rothi?”
“It means,” Micid says in English, “one who walks the In-Between.”
I blink. The fae’s smile widens.
“I visit tjandel,” he explains.
I have no idea where or what that is. I glance at Raen, but he looks just as surprised as I am to learn Micid speaks my language.
“What’s that mean?” I ask. “To walk the In-Between?”
Micid smiles. And disappears.
There’s no flash of light. We’re inside the Silver Palace so he couldn’t have fissured anyway, but it can’t be an illusion. I have the Sight; I’d still be able to see him.
When the fae reappears, I stagger back and nearly trip on the stair behind me.
“It means,” he says, “I walk the In-Between.”
I recognize the word Raen used now, ther’rothi.
“That magic is . . .” I was going to say extinct, but the impression I always got from Kyol was that it never existed in the first place. It’s as impossible as bringing fae back from the dead. It’s a myth, a legend. “It’s . . .”
“Rare,” Micid supplies, a gleam in his silver eyes.
Lord Raen climbs a step. “Fae cannot conceal humans with illusion. This is the only way. Micid will take you into the In-Between. No one will see you. I will have Taltrayn’s guards open the storage room. You’ll direct Micid to where the humans are hidden. He’ll open the door and, one by one, he’ll take you out through the In-Between.”
I started shaking my head halfway through his explanation. “No. I can’t walk the . . . This wasn’t the plan.”
“I changed the plan,” he says, as if it’s not a problem. Never mind that I didn’t like his original plan; I really don’t like him bringing another fae into this. The only reason I’m trusting Raen is because I’m convinced he’ll do anything for Kelia’s forgiveness. I have no reason to trust this Micid.
“I can’t enter the In-Between without going through a gate,” I say. “This will kill me.”
“We’re not traveling through the In-Between,” Micid says. “We’re merely wading into it like a shallow pool. I’ve done this with humans before.”
I don’t like this. Maybe I shouldn’t have gone to Raen for help. Maybe I should have found a fae to take me through Corrist’s gate. I thought about it. Once I give Aren the location of the Sidhe Tol, he’ll be able to fissure into the Silver Palace. I could draw him a map to Naito’s cell. That’s the problem, though. Once Kyol finds out I’m missing, he’ll move the two humans. I’m sure of it. I can’t leave without them.
I meet Raen’s eyes. “You trust him?”
After a slight, almost imperceptible hesitation, he says, “He will do as I’ve asked.”
That hesitation doesn’t do anything for my confidence, but I have little choice now. “Fine. Let’s get it over with.”
Micid holds out his hand. When I wrap my fingers around his, he doesn’t seem bothered by my chaos lusters.
“You’re sure this won’t kill me?”
“Positive,” he replies. “You’re not leaving this world. You’ll be able to see it; it will not be able to see you. Fae can hear us, though, so you must remain silent.”
He rubs his thumb across my palm, setting off every warning alarm in my head. I start to pull my hand away, but at that moment, everything goes black.
I gasp when the chill hits me. My vision returns a moment later, but everything—the stairs, the arcing stone ceiling, even Lord Raen—is bathed in a blue light. When I turn my head, the world ripples as if it’s underwater. The air in my lungs is cold enough to threaten frostbite, but it’s not quite as bad as fissuring through the In-Between. I can endure this. I think.
Raen says something. I can’t make it out because his voice sounds muffled, but Micid gives him a quick reply, then escorts me down the stairs.
This is dizzying. Micid and I are apart from the world, moving through it at a different pace, it seems, even though we’re following Raen and reach the entrance to the storage room just one moment after him.
“Unlock the gate,” Lord Raen says to the two guards, his voice still distant, still hard to understand.
I expect them to protest, but the swordsman on the left asks, “Is there something we can help you find?”
“No.”
The guards exchange a brief look at the curtness of Raen’s response, but they open the door.
Raen enters. One guard follows him inside. Micid and I slip past the other, who frowns after Lord Raen.
“Perhaps I can shorten your search, my lord,” the first fae says. “What are you looking for?”
“A sword.”
The fae scans the hundreds of swords slanted in their racks against the wall. Cautiously, I urge Micid past him. I need to move before my teeth start chattering.
“Where’s the inventory?” Raen asks.
“Inventory?”
“Yes.” Raen’s eyes narrow. “You’re guarding these artifacts. Certainly you have a list of the items stored here. How else would you know if something is missing?”
“Artifacts?” the fae says, clearly seeing the contents of the storage room as discarded junk.
“Get me the inventory. Now.”
The guard blanks his expression. “Yes, my lord.”
I’m face-to-face with him when he abruptly turns. Micid pulls me to the side, out of the way just in time. His free hand goes to my waist. It remains there even after the threat passes. I manage to resist the urge to elbow him in the gut. Instead, I step away, putting as much distance between us as possible, and pull him toward the back of the storage room. “There’s another guard around the corner.”
The ther’rothi nods. As soon as Garrad comes into view, he releases my hand. I see Micid blur forward for an instant and then the blue glow of the In-Between vanishes. The Realm is hot, almost scalding, in comparison. I fill my lungs with air. It feels like I’m taking a breath in a sauna.