got on our hands and knees to examine the flowers as closely as possible. Berron, meanwhile, paced like an expectant father on his third espresso. “What do you see? Who did this? And how did they get in?”
“Settle down,” I said. “No rushing. And no magic,” I added quickly, to Poppy, who had raised her hand over the flowers like she was about to cast a spell. “Don’t bleed on anything, either, Daniel.”
Daniel shot me a look. “I don’t normally drip blood.”
“Just—don’t. In our world, magic sends you through to where the Arcade is. Poppy’s magic or your blood could trigger it. We’re not ready for that.”
“Why not?” Berron said. “Some bloodsucker clearly was. No offense, Daniel.”
Daniel didn’t respond, other than to poke a flower and squint at it.
I sat back on the grass, at the edge of the flowers. The smell of starfruit reminded me that I hadn’t eaten anything in a while, if you didn’t count Berron’s tea. Maybe Sybelia would share some cookies. I ran my hand over the grass, then brushed the soft white flowers themselves. “The magic could just be a residue of Victorine traveling to the Arcade from Central Park. Or me, even.”
“But why would that bleed through here?” Poppy asked.
“If everything is connected,” I said, “then maybe things leak.”
Sybelia shuffled forward and took deep horsey sniffs at the flowers.
“Berron, get Sybelia,” I said. “I can’t be responsible for dimension-traveling horses.”
Berron fished the squashed cookie packages from his pockets and lured Sybelia a safe distance away.
Poppy sat next to me on the grass, the tips of our shoes almost touching the flowers, as Daniel continued to examine the field. “What if we went through here?” Poppy asked. “Would we end up at the Arcade?” She paused, seeming to have a sudden thought. “Could we travel all the way through to Central Park?”
“Berron?” I called.
He approached, removed his coat, and spread it on the ground. “Here, sit on this.” Poppy and I moved over with expressions of thanks. “The only way into the Forest of Emeralds should be the Mirror,” he said, taking a seat on the grass next to us.
“How did you go back and forth before the Mirror?” I asked.
“There were places we could just… slip through. But they all closed.”
I imagined doors shutting, one after another. “Weren’t you worried about getting trapped in here?”
“No more than you worry about getting trapped in your world. The Forest of Emeralds is home. Why would I worry about getting trapped?”
“True,” I said. “But… no one thought about what would happen if the Forest of Emeralds”—I hesitated, not wanting to sound insensitive—“failed?”
A sound of dark amusement escaped him. “You can’t turn on the news without being reminded of how you’re slowly burning the Earth to ash, yet you go about your business.” He shook his head. “No one ever really believes the world will end.”
“Jolly,” Poppy said, throwing a piece of grass at him.
“The Mirror was supposed to be a stable way to cross through,” I said, getting the conversation back on track. “Until it was closed by mutual agreement.”
“An agreement so we didn’t bring an end to those like our friend here.” Berron nodded to Daniel, who gave a short, distracted wave before turning his attention back to the flowers.
“Why do you hate each other so much?” Poppy asked. “The Blessed and the Gentry, I mean. Not you and him specifically.”
“You don’t know?” Berron said.
Poppy shook her head. “No one talks about these things. Oh, witches are supposed to be all one happy family, but everyone’s keeping their little secrets.” She wiggled her fingers in a woo-woo motion.
“Do you know?” Berron asked Daniel.
Daniel shook his head. “Too new at this.”
Berron nodded, and appeared to be thinking about how to respond. “The Blessed,” he said, after a few moments, “view everything as a zero-sum game.”
I blinked, trying to process this information. “As in… only one player can win?”
“They spend years jockeying for position. Gaining wealth. Becoming royalty in their own little domains. Anything that threatens that, well…” Berron drew his finger across his neck. “There were turf wars. We could have fought. But we had our own home to retreat to. And with the Peace in place, it made sense to stay there. Many of my people are shy by nature. Homebodies, if you will. But there were always those who were more adventurous.”
“Heedless, you mean?” Poppy said.
“Heedless,” Berron admitted. “For the sake of adventure.” He was staring into the distance, as if remembering something.
A little more than six feet away, Daniel eased himself down into the flowers, then rolled onto his back. He put both hands behind his head and gazed up at the greenish storm clouds laced with gold lightning. He closed his eyes like this was any ordinary field, on any ordinary day.
“Daniel,” Poppy said, “perhaps you shouldn’t take a nap in the magic flowers?”
I watched him.
He lay there silently for what felt like a minute or so. Then, as if he sensed me watching, he opened his eyes. He turned and propped his head up, meeting my gaze. A private smile crossed his face, bringing me a flash of moments when he had done the same thing long ago—lazily, after rolling over in bed. Those eyes, those dark irises like black coffee backed by hellfire.
Then one hand went to his mouth like he had something in his teeth.
Teeth…
Not exactly polite, but who was I to judge? Still—
Why did it set off alarm bells in my brain?
He was nicking his finger.
“Daniel, no!”
He calmly smeared the bleeding fingertip against the white flowers.
Red marred the petals. His body, richly clothed in that black suit cobwebbed with white, framed by the crimson lining of his jacket, began to fade from sight with pinpricks of light so bright they left starry afterimages. “See you on the other side,” he said.
He’d left his words left behind.
He was gone.
I scrambled to my feet and let out a streak of curse words that would have blasted the forest dead if it wasn't already. “Daniel!” I yelled at the flowers, uselessly, before lowering my voice. “I’m not your keeper,” I added.
Even as it left my lips, I knew it wasn’t true. I signed up to be his keeper. I practically signed in blood. I made him what he was. Didn’t matter that he was my ex. Didn’t matter that conversion had driven him into desperation. If I could have washed my hands and walked away, I wouldn’t. I still—
I still cared. And it twisted my insides until I could have been sick on the flowers. How could I be soft enough to have let this flirtation, this nothing, slide past my defenses like a knife tipped with poisoned honey? This is how other people were supposed to feel. Not me. I could drink affection and seduction all day and never get drunk.
Couldn’t I?
Daniel was a flirtation. And yet the whole world had narrowed to a Daniel-shaped space of crushed flowers.
The smear of his blood was gone as if the flowers drank it. Where he had gone through glowed brighter, redder, as if it had been refreshed and recharged with magic. It was the most vivid color in the forest, aside from our costumes.
“I told him he wasn’t allowed to lie down and die,” Berron said. “Why did he think he was allowed to lie down and disappear?”
“He’s testing my theory,” Poppy said.
Berron and I looked at her.
“Don’t you remember? When we first sat down? I asked if this place crossed all the way over to Central Park.”
I pressed my hand to my forehead. “Oh, Daniel. Daniel, you arrogant, reckless, swaggering idiot.”
Berron looked impressed despite himself. “He’s playing with his life.”
“Don’t encourage him!” I snapped.
“He’s not even here,” Berron said.
“Don’t trouble me with details.” I stretched my neck like I was about to dive into a pile of orders during the breakfast rush. “We have to go after him.”
“Yes, but how?” Poppy said. “Through here? Or back to Central Park?”
I gestured to the flowers. “We’re already here—”
Poppy shook her head. “But we don’t know that this is a safe way. It might be a faster way to get to Daniel. Or it might be a dead end. Or worse.”
I couldn’t stop seeing Daniel with the Arcade. Shivering but determined. Bathed in the strange light of her glowing eyes. What deal would he make, if he could?
And what would he trade away in exchange?
He’s playing with his life, Berron had said. But Daniel’s wasn’t the only life in play. Berron’s people, the sleepers in the Forest of Emeralds. Poppy. Berron himself. I couldn’t drag them through an untested portal to another world. “You’re right,” I said. “We can’t risk it.” I retrieved Berron’s jacket from the ground, tossed it to him.
“Back to the Mirror?” he said.
I nodded decisively. “Back to Central Park.”
Poppy was already bringing Sybelia over. She repeated the hop-skip-jump that landed her on Sybelia’s back. Then she patted the horse’s neck and murmured something that sounded reassuring.
I gestured at the horse. “How do I get on this thing?”
“You don’t want to run?” Berron asked.
“I don’t want to push it.”
“Allow me.” He held his hands to offer me a step up.
I hesitated only a fraction of a second before taking the help. I settled into position behind Poppy, grateful for the long pants that protected my legs.
“Hold on tight,” Poppy said. “Without stirrups, it’s much harder to stay on. Tighten your core and grip with your thighs.”
“Horse Pilates,” I muttered, wrapping my arms around her waist. “They’d charge a fortune for it if they could figure out how to copy it in an Upper East Side studio.” Leave it to Berron to play the gallant gentleman assisting his lady. He made it easy to fall into.
Like a trap.