30

If you have to wake up sandwiched between two someones, they should at least smell good. It takes the edge off the urge to scream.

It does not, however, make up for drool on your pillow, sweat soaking your clothes, and rats’ nests in your hair. Especially when you have no idea where you are, how you got there, and why there is a nice-smelling man on either side of you.

Pillows. Pillows everywhere. This is familiar, somehow. So is the sound.

A horse. Yes, it’s definitely a horse, neighing. And where is that apple scent coming from?

I sat up. Big mistake. Someone hammered a saute pan on my head, or at least it felt like it, and my mouth tasted like grill scrapings. The room was dim, the only light coming from a couple of golden sconces. And we were in a sumptuous heap of bedding strewn with bits of dried flowers and herbs.

Ah.

Berron’s bed.

I looked to my right.

Berron, sound asleep. Or passed out.

To my left, Daniel. Same.

“Huh,” I said, scratching my head in an attempt to remember exactly what happened last night. On closer inspection, Berron had a nasty cut on his forehead. I brushed Berron’s hair aside for a better look.

“Right behind you,” he muttered, before rolling over sleepily and nestling back into the pillows.

I blinked at him. Hadn’t I heard that before? Recently?

I shifted to face Daniel, and patted his shoulder. “Daniel, wake up.”

“Lord Daniel,” he murmured.

“Lord Daniel, my ass,” I said.

But he, too, rolled over and continued sleeping.

“Bunch of help you two are.” But something about the words, even as they left my mouth, gave me pause. As if I knew on some level they weren’t accurate at all. What had happened last night? Why were we in Berron’s room in the Fortress of Apples?

I threw off the coverlet and looked down at myself. Saw I wasn’t disguised in the Empress costume anymore. Crown and comb missing in action. I’d reverted to my real appearance: middle-aged Zelda, Peaseblossom outfit, minus my Doc Martens.

I wiggled my toes.

Had someone taken my shoes off? Had I? My fuzzy brain reached for the chain of events between point A, at Poppy’s house, and point B, in Berron’s bed.

Surely there was a really good explanation somewhere. One that didn’t require moving back to Florida to escape the shame.

The horse neighed again.

Sybelia!

And then, a voice. Mellow and smooth, a female voice, like a wind instrument in a lower register. I didn’t know anyone who sounded like that. And even if I did, they wouldn’t be here, in a dying, silent world. I pushed myself up and off the bed, my feet bumping into where my shoes had been placed neatly at the foot, next to a sparkly crown and a hair comb—and a corsage that looked like it’d been ironed. I tugged on my boots. “Hey,” I called, heading for the door. “Who’s there?” With that, I pushed the stone door open and stepped through.

And froze.

The apple orchard had burst to life. Every green leaf glowed, every apple blushed more ripe than rubies. The great trees of the Forest of Emeralds rose in the distance, supporting a sky turned from sickly dark green to clear aquamarine blue. Clouds like horses’ tails. A scent like nothing I’d ever smelled before: fresh grass and healthy dirt and green sap and water rich with minerals, the kind of scent I could fall asleep to and wake up to and have a smile on my face the whole time.

But even that was nothing compared to what I saw beneath the trees.

People.

Not just any people.

The Gentry.

Awake, free, alive. Running beneath the trees, dancing with colorful ribbons, laughing and falling down and getting up again. Juggling apples. Playing catch. Embracing. Young, middle-aged, and old, dressed in all the colors of the rainbow and possibly a few more.

Soft thuds on the turf announced Sybelia’s approach. On her back, a young lady dressed all in gold, crowned with gold, wielding a handful of golden magic to sprinkle stars through the air like confetti. They stopped a few feet away, and the golden child—Berron’s sister—slid down from Sybelia’s back, revealing a carved wooden bow slung against her back. “Zelda,” she said, and of course the beautiful voice was hers.

I swallowed. Despite being younger and smaller than Berron, she was twice as intimidating. “Hi,” I said.

Possibly not my best moment.

She held out both hands, and her sweet smile was both enchanting and genuine. “I am the Princess of Arrows.”

“Princess of Arrows,” I repeated. I was so dazzled I almost forgot to take her extended hands.

Her warm fingers held mine. “You saved us.”

I shook my head. “No—”

“Be not bashful, O Zelda.”

Bashful? Far from it. Amnesiac, more like. I was having trouble forming words, though. Her Gentry magic was already climbing my wrists, wrapping them in molten gold.

“Do you not remember? My brother and his companion, the Lord Daniel, carried you hence.”

“They carried me?”

“Yes—after the Prince’s wound was tended. According to the Lord Daniel, my brother struck his head on a boulder when they were thrown from holding you.”

Good God, what had happened?

“The Lord Daniel stopped the bleeding with his jacket.”

Cobweb, I thought instantly. Cobwebs staunch blood, Lily said. Goosebumps lit up my arms. And why was Berron’s sister calling him Lord Daniel—

Then I remembered.

The cane changing hands. The medal on the blood-red ribbon. The walk from the church to Central Park, with Prospero. Into the field of starfruit-smelling flowers, into the ice field strewn with boulders. Prospero giving himself up to the Arcade. Throwing myself at the two of them. Expanding to the size of the universe, all that power nearly blowing me apart as Berron and Daniel helped me hang on.

My eyes closed and the ground tilted.

Her grip shifted, and I felt her arm go around my waist. “You should lie down, dear friend.”

I liked that. Dear friend. Like my Zelda, but less claim. Too bad the Forest of Emeralds was sliding out from under me, or I could have thought about it some more. “No,” I said. “Not in there. I’ll just sit on the grass.”

She helped me sink to the green, as soft as any bed. I meant to sit, but somehow I kept going until I was lying on my back, gazing up at the sky and the horsetail clouds.

Everything was perfect. Everything was beautiful.

“You know who would like this place a lot?” I said.

The Princess of Arrows kneeled beside me. “Who?”

“My dog.” Now that I’d thought of him, I couldn’t stop thinking of him. Did he sleep well without me? Did he get his usual treats, snacks, and walks?

A stone door clicked open behind my head, and two figures emerged.

“Lying down on the job?” Daniel said.

They came around in front of me. From the ground, they looked like giants. Giants messy from sleep, but still. Cobweb and Moth.

And me, Peaseblossom.

A powerful love potion, Lily had said. Not hearts and flowers and candy. This love meant being afraid—and doing the thing anyway, because there’s nothing more important than protecting what you love.

That was the kind of love potion I was.

The spinning settled into a gentle rocking that would have been kind of nice, if I didn’t have things to do. I sat up and held my hands out to Berron and Daniel.

They pulled me up, and the three of us embraced. “Thank you,” I said.

Normally, Berron would have had a clever comeback. Instead, he kissed my cheek lightly.

“Sorry about your head,” I added.

“Be sorry for me,” Daniel said, adding a kiss on my other cheek, not to be outdone. “He ruined my jacket. With his blood.” He made a face.

I laughed.

“Well,” Berron said, his eyes dancing, “he kept trying to make me call him ‘Lord’ Daniel.”

“That’s because I am Lord Daniel.”

I stared at him. “You didn’t mean that—” I looked around. The Princess of Arrows had slipped away with Sybelia. “You were just playing along.”

Daniel looked away. “I may have made a tiny deal with the Arcade.”

I punched his arm. “You bastard. You told everyone you’d fallen straight through. I trusted you.” Daniel tried to take my arm. I shrugged him off. “What deal did you make?”

“I did it for the right reasons—”

“What deal did you make?”

“To replace Prospero.”

My mouth fell open.

“He was a bad dude, all right? Maybe the Blessed and the Gentry can stop killing each other, you know, if someone new is in charge.”

“You,” I said.

He shrugged.

Berron looked like he was barely containing his glee. Not because Daniel was in charge. Because Daniel was in trouble.

With me.

I sighed. Rubbed my temples. Wished it had all stayed simple: a normal ex-boyfriend, and a Brooklyn hipster with remarkable wood-working abilities. And now here I was with the Lord of the Blessed and the Prince of the Gentry.

I held my finger up, a caution and a threat. Pointed first at Daniel, then Berron, who widened his eyes innocently. I swung the finger back to Daniel, poked him in the chest. “Got anything else you want to share with the class?”

“That’s it,” he said, holding his hands up.

It made a kind of sense, what he said about the Blessed and the Gentry. Not that I’d ever tell him that. He didn’t deserve the satisfaction.

He could sweat.

I turned back to Berron, who took a step back. “And you. Getting drunk and proposing to make me the Queen of the Gentry. Calling me ‘my Zelda.’”

“Not your Zelda,” Daniel murmured.

“Shut up,” I said. I looked Berron in the eyes, but it was hard, because rather than looking abashed, he looked like he was remembering something delicious. My cheeks flamed as the memory of the kiss in the Flatiron Saloon came back unbidden.

I pressed on. “You have to”—I paused, searched for the right words—“you have to dial it back.”

“Dial it back?” Berron said.

“Yes,” I said, with a sureness I didn’t feel. “I mean, your sister called me ‘dear,’ and that didn’t bother me.”

A huge silence.

“So, you want me to act like my sister.”

“Yes.”

“Mm-hm,” he said, lingering over it. Disbelieving. Giving me a look that would drop angels in their tracks. “No problem, dear Zelda.”

I took a deep breath. “Now let’s go home. I have a boy to kiss.”

They exchanged glances.

“One who’s covered in fur. Lead the way to the Mirror.”

“About that,” Daniel said.

“Oh, no,” I said, the sound of shattering crystal coming back with terrifying clarity. “Aunt Belinda will be worried sick. And Poppy! And Jester—”

“It’s okay,” Berron said. “After we made sure you were safe, we went out and let them know what happened. That’s why we both slept in.”

“But how did you get out if the Mirror was gone?”

Berron smiled. “You opened all the old ways.”

“I opened the old ways?”

He nodded.

“All of them?”

“Every single one. In fact,” he said, “I think you have a few visitors coming through now.”

A black shape flew down the path between the apple trees, paws extended like a tiny race horse, barely touching the ground, mouth open, ears a-flapping, tongue waving joyfully like a skinny pink flag.

“Jester!” I cried, sinking to the grass in time to catch him like a furry cannonball. He was everywhere, paws and claws and kisses and tail pouf wagging, making snuffly noises as if he just couldn’t sniff me enough. “It’s been a million years, I know, boy.” I hugged him, ran my hand over his silky, fluffy ears. He licked my face, the little opportunist.

Hoofbeats on the turf announced the return of Sybelia. This time, it wasn’t the Princess of Arrows on her back.

It was Poppy—and Georgiana running alongside, shaggy hair swishing with each great bound. Poppy brought Sybelia to a neat stop as Georgiana ran circles around our little group, Jester bouncing away to join in the frolic. Poppy tossed her leg over Sybelia’s back and slid down, landing on the grass as gracefully as a magic trick. “Ta-da!” she said, opening her arms.

I threw my arms around her. “Mustardseed!”

“Peaseblossom, you scamp. Running off to the Arcade without so much as a how-do-you-do. Haven’t I told you not to do that? Very naughty.”

I hugged her harder. “I’m sorry.”

We both laughed, breaking apart, as the dogs collided with us in search of more scritchy-scratchies and kisses.

“Have they told you?” Poppy said.

“Told me what? That the old ways are open?”

“That’s not all,” she said. “Come on.”

We left the Fortress of Apples behind and entered the Forest, walking into the deep woods, far from where we had gone before. Jester and Georgiana stopped to sniff at every exposed tree root and forest flower. What had seemed so dark and forbidding before had changed completely. The moss almost bounced under my feet. The tree trunks were so richly colored they looked carved from chocolate, like Christmas log cakes stood on end, soaring upward to green umbrella canopies, the blue sky peeking through with clean, pure light.

We reached a cove where two trees bent toward each other, their branches so deeply entwined, they’d begun to merge.

The Princess of Arrows stood to the side of the arch, her golden gown shifting slightly in a sweet breeze. Waiting.

Daniel pulled out leashes from his pocket and snapped them on Jester and Georgiana, standing by. Ready.

Berron bowed to his sister. “Princess of Arrows. Our guests will return home.” He paused, catching my gaze. “For now.”

The Princess regarded us. “Fare you well, travelers. It is my fondest wish that you return to the Forest of Emeralds soon, to celebrate in the proper fashion.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” Poppy said, with one of those full-size curtsies.

Berron held out his hand to me. “Ready?”

“Where does this go?” I said.

“You’ll see.”

I hung back for only a second. When you’ve walked through mirrors, fallen through dimensions, and battled a goddess of magic, what’s one little archway? I took Berron’s hand, and Poppy’s. Poppy took Daniel’s. Daniel’s free hand had both leashes, Jester and Georgiana happily tangling themselves in knots.

We went through.

Unlike the Mirror, which seemed to billow cold air when crossed, this archway breathed the same scent as the Forest of Emeralds, enveloping us in comfortable coolness before fading away. Suddenly we were knee-deep in bushes, neck-deep in vines, and surrounded by summer heat.

“Where are we?” I said, pushing at the foliage where it seemed thinnest. The tangle gave way with a sudden release, and I found myself standing on a neatly raked gravel path bordered by rounded shrubbery and deep green park benches. Ahead, a bronze statue of a man rose, surrounded by flowers. Beyond that, a fence of evenly spaced black metal bars topped with decorative gold points.

This was Gramercy Park. We were inside the locked, private, Gramercy Park.

Before, the garden had stopped at the fence.

Now it overflowed the street and climbed up the surrounding buildings.

They looked, at first, like green walls. Living green walls, many stories high, dotted with flowers, alive with more butterflies than I’d ever seen in one place. Stone blocks and Gothic windows peeked through gaps in the foliage, as if green blankets had been haphazardly thrown over the buildings. New bushes had sprung up like mushrooms in the park itself, bearing even more flowers. Trees stretched higher and greener as if life had poured into their roots in a great rush, causing them to stretch toward the sky. New vines wrapped the fences and spilled onto the sidewalk.

A real urban jungle. The Forest of Emeralds had taken over this bit of Manhattan.

Berron, Poppy, and Daniel joined me on the gravel path.

“What did I do?” I said.

“Redecorated,” Berron said. “It’s like this everywhere.”

“Everywhere? What do you mean, ‘everywhere’?”

“Every green space. Everywhere there’s a connection. Daniel and I saw it while you were resting.”

I thought of Central Park. Riverside Park. Dozens more. All connected, all blooming. From a stardust waterfall of pure magic. What would the elemental witches think of this very public explosion of magic? What would the Blessed do, after the spell didn’t fall, and the city parks overflowed with green? “I didn’t know this was going to happen,” I said, taking Jester’s leash from Daniel.

Poppy took Georgiana’s leash. “Well done,” she said. “Adding a little excitement to the day.”

“Understatement of the century,” Daniel said, straightening his collar. “Ready to go home?”

“How?” I said, unable to tear my gaze away from the greenery. “It’s locked.”

“I can fix that,” Daniel said, lifting the medal that hung around his neck. It turned out to not be a medal at all, but a large locket, which opened like a pocket watch, and held a gold-toned key, modern and sturdy, stamped with a number. Daniel snapped the medal shut and flourished the key. “Found it this morning. Goes with the apartment,” he said, nodding in the direction of Prospero’s building.

Daniel’s building.

The golden key slid into the lock. Daniel pulled the handle and held the gate open.

A giant purple butterfly that didn’t look quite real flapped past us. Jester pulled so hard after it his little paws scrabbled on the path. Was it from our world, or not? And where would it lead, if I followed it?

A summer breeze carried a hint of burned star fruit, and I thought of the first time I met the Arcade: You will go where you have never been. And you will become what you never were.

She was right—I had gone where I had never been—but she was wrong. I didn’t become what I never was.

I became who I was always meant to be: someone who loved my dog, my friends, and my family, balancing spells and sandwiches in a city of steel, stone, and magic, following a poodle and a purple butterfly to my next adventure.

Those chiming bells in the distance?

Probably nothing but an ice cream truck.

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