Chapter Eleven

Rain and wind battered against the windows as the sky darkened further still. The air smelled of cinnamon and ozone. A chill filled the room, and Chao shivered.

“Chao better light more lamps. Soon it will be too dark to see hands in front of faces.” He leapt to his feet just as one of the candles near the window guttered out from a draft.

“Wait a moment,” said Olive. “Darkness would make a good cover. Miss Verity?”

Verve’s breaths were short and shallow, and she was having trouble getting enough air. “We have to get out of here. He’s coming, Olive.” At the words, she convulsed and the room went black for a moment. When she returned to her senses, there were gray spots on the outskirts of her vision and she was on the floor with a worried Chao standing over her.

“My queen, you must lie down,” said the shopkeeper.

“She’s lying down now,” snapped Olive, pushing the man aside. “And she’s done enough of it. Collect yourself, Miss Verity, and think. Just because there’s a Mortal Gate nearby, it doesn’t mean his lordship is minutes away. Why, he could be in any part of Letorheas or Etterhea. Don’t let fear cloud your thoughts.”

Verve gave her a terse nod and pushed herself to a kneeling position. Everything spun around her and her breaths were still ragged, but she fought the rising hysteria and said, “If we’re going to make a move for the library, we should do so soon. Dacre might know where we’re headed, and once he gets here, your magic isn’t strong enough to fight him, and mine doesn’t work against him.” Using the table and chair for support, she got the rest of the way to her feet.

“Oh, the Library of Aslillian?” Chao asked. His smile had vanished since Verve’s collapse. “That closes during storms.” When Verve gave him a questioning look, he shrugged and said, “Texts don’t like getting wet.”

“We could break in,” Verve mused. “I know how to pick a lock.”

Olive nodded, her eyes distant as though the problem were a speck on the wall. “And, worse comes to worst, you could use magic to get us in.”

Now Chao seemed agitated, pacing and shaking his head as he murmured to himself. “Dangerous. Too dangerous.” He stopped and held up a hand as if the two she-fae were about to rush out of his shop that moment.

“We need to get into the library, Mr. Chao-What’s-Your-Name, and your tiny mortal self isn’t going to waylay us,” said Olive.

The funny man laughed once, a nervous sound, and his grin returned. “The library is guarded not just by regular guards. There are many high fae who take protecting knowledge very serious. Very serious indeed. And you will be recognized, Vuur Koningin. Your description? All over the city.” He gestured around them widely to emphasize his point.

That did not bode well. Verve knew she was powerful, but could she successfully fight off several high fae attacks? She could best Fenn when she wasn’t worrying about hurting him, but if Dacre joined the fight, Verve wasn’t as sure as to what the outcome might be. “We need that information. I need to reach the Lands of the Dead.”

Chao whistled. “That does not sound like a nice place.”

Olive’s brow furrowed and she folded her arms across her chest. “You could try shape-shifting.” She sounded doubtful.

“If I use magic and someone smells the residual burst….”

“What other options do we have? If your voice guide is correct, the information you need is there.”

Verve threw up her hands in frustration, and her fingertips flickered with fire, filling the room with the odor of burned sugar. Hastily she put the blaze out and looked at Olive, eyes wide.

“Well, now we certainly have to leave.” Olive turned to Chao and gestured to the food. “Do you have anything we might pack the rest of this in? Goodness knows when we’ll next be able to get another decent meal.”

Verve was already moving toward the door with her bag of books. “There’s no time. If anyone caught a whiff of my magic, they’ll be here any minute now.” Again lightning flickered behind the curtain, and the thunder answered in a resounding boom.

“You said men were watching the shop,” Olive reminded her and then turned to Chao. “Is there a window in the kitchen we could climb through?”

Chao smiled. “Not in the kitchen, no. But there is the smugglers’ tunnel.” He ran into the kitchen and came out a minute later with a length of oilskin. “Chao just pack up food for you and then show you the tunnel.”

Practically vibrating with anxiety, Verve helped him wrap up the remainder of their meal – what would travel well – and then stuffed it on top of the books in her bag. “Why didn’t you mention the tunnel earlier?” It was hard to keep the irritation out of her voice so she didn’t even try.

“Oh, that is easy. Chao was sworn on penalty of death never to tell the fae about it,” he said cheerfully. “Follow and I will show you, yes?”

Olive shook her head. “Fool,” she said, but she sounded mildly impressed.

They followed Chao through the kitchen, skirting around the odd pot or pan that had fallen in their path, and to a closed door, for which Chao produced a key. The shopkeeper fit the key in the door’s lock and turned it once left, then right, then left again. He grinned sheepishly. “Guess I left it unlocked.”

Verve stepped after Chao into what appeared to be a small accounting room. There was a desk against the left wall, piled high with books and stacks of paper. The air was musty, rife with the odor of mildew. A wave of nausea swept over her as she spied the black mold growing on the ceiling.

“Please, we must be careful,” said Chao, reaching past the women to close the door. “You need map for underground, yes? Chao will get you one. Just – burn when you’re done. Or if you get caught.” He moved toward the stacks of paper and made a gesture to his ear, to Verve, and then to the door, indicating she should listen for trouble.

She nodded and moved to the door, throwing the door’s bolt. “And the underground leads to the library?”

“Oh, yes. Every public and government building has tunnel access. Ah, hold these,” said Chao to Olive.

Olive accepted a stack of boxes with a grunt. “You say these are smugglers’ tunnels.” She frowned at the man. “What exactly might you be smuggling?”

Chao was rapping his knuckles on different places on the back wall, whence he had moved the boxes now in Olive’s arms. He paused in his work, nodded, and turned to face the fae. “To smuggle ourselves, of course. Now, can one of you move the desk?”

“Smuggle yourselves?” asked Olive, handing the boxes to Verve. “Who exactly might you need hiding from?” After rolling up her sleeves, the crone gave the desk a shove and managed to push it back up against the far wall.

“The fae,” said Chao. “You can set those boxes down in front of the door. Oh, and stand back, yes?” With that said, he went back to tapping on the wall.

Verve frowned as she set the boxes in front of the door. The storm without was still raging, and she could hear the rain beating against the walls and the thunder rumbling in the near distance. She tried to shut the noises out as she turned to Chao and asked, “Why would you need to escape the fae?”

The look Chao gave her was serious. “Middle children each have access to this tunnel and pass down the maps and instructions to their middle children. Enough of us have been taken over the years through the Mortal Gate. None of us have come back.” He shrugged. “Let Chao try one more thing….”

It was as though a cold hand had grasped Verve’s heart. “So – fae taking middlings isn’t anything new?” She turned to Olive for confirmation.

“Most fae think humans are barely living, sentient beings. Their views have improved over the years, but yes, there are no laws against snatching the occasional middling from Etterhea.” Olive nodded to Chao, who had continued his series of taps on the wall.

With a soft click, the room vibrated and a large square trapdoor opened in the floor. “Aha!” Chao rubbed his hands together, approached his desk, and pushed one of the decorative flowers that had been carved into its front. The flower disappeared farther into the desk, and a panel shot out partially from a leg.

Olive swore. “What in the world…?”

Chao grinned as he removed the panel and pulled out a rolled piece of paper, which he handed to Verve. “Magic.” He winked. “And there is your map.”

The paper looked like new, as if it had only been made yesterday. Verve frowned as she unfurled it. “When was this made?” And how accurate can it be?

“Chao redraws it every year to better keep it in memory. No one is supposed to keep a physical copy of the map, so if it were to fall into the wrong hands….” He drew a line across his throat with his finger as his face contorted in mock agony.

Verve studied the map, committing its details to memory. Once she was certain she had taken in every detail, she rolled it up and returned it to Chao. “If we can’t risk magic, we’ll need a light source.” She shifted her weight to her right foot as Chao reached for the metal kerosene lamp on a side table. They really were asking a lot of this man.

“Last Chao was in the tunnels, there were still spun lights.”

“Spun lights?” Olive prompted.

The shopkeeper’s eyebrows rose. “Eternal lights. Spun from fairy magic, you know. Well, not ones humans made, obviously. Some of us – a long time ago, mind, so don’t be angry with Chao – stole eternal lights from the fae outpost guarding the entrance to Faerie.” He pulled a cigarette lighter from the side table’s drawer and went to work trimming the lamp’s wick, checking the amount of kerosene the base held. Next he lit it and replaced the vented glass lid.

“The entrance to Letorheas is guarded,” Verve groaned, resting her head in her hand. “That complicates things.”

Olive accepted the lamp from Chao and held out her hand until he passed her the lighter as well. “Of course the entrance is guarded. That’s why we’ll need to find a hawthorn instead.” She nodded at the trapdoor. “I’ll go first and make certain the way is clear.” And then she was climbing down, clutching the lantern in one hand and holding on to thin, metal rungs with the other as she went.

Verve licked her lips, which were suddenly dry. “And the tunnel doesn’t lead to Letor— I mean, it doesn’t lead to Faerie?” Though she knew from the map that it didn’t, the slow shake of Chao’s head still made her spirits sink into the floor.

“And you’ll want to leave the library the same way you came in. And if Chao may suggest? Wait for daylight and then emerge through Dinao’s Bakery on the north side of town. Tell Din that Chao vouches for you, and all should be well, yes?”

“I don’t know how I can thank you enough, Chao.”

The shopkeeper blushed. “Chao’s pleasure. Please, don’t mention it.” He gestured to the hole in the floor, whence came the sounds of sloshing water and Olive’s mutterings. Chao reached out a hand to help Verve, who accepted.

“I hope you stay safe.” And with that said, she adjusted the sack on her back and began her descent into the network of tunnels below. The light down here was dimmer and an unnatural blue. When she reached the bottom, the water came up to her knees, and before she could wave at the shopkeeper, the trapdoor shut, sealing them down there. Verve took a few deep breaths, trying to compose herself.

“This is an awful mess,” said Olive. To illustrate her point, she kicked up a spray of water, which struck Verve in the face.

The water was ice-cold and stank of human waste. Verve glared at Olive and moved toward her. “We should get going.” Before the tunnels flood. She cringed at the thought and gestured for the lamp, which Olive handed over with apparent reluctance. “Can you carry the books?”

Olive shook her head. “You know I’m not strong enough. But if you were to give me more power….” She left the thought unfinished, and Verve hesitated.

After a moment she sighed and moved around Olive so she, Verve, was leading the way down the narrow, pipelike stretch of tunnel going west. Though she trusted Olive for the most part, giving her more power than she already had did not sound like a wise idea at the moment.

They waded through the water as quickly as Olive was able, which might have been considered a brisk walk for a human but was like a crawl to Verve. Twice the crone stumbled and grabbed on to Verve to stop herself from falling, nearly dragging Verve down with her in the process.

“Hold on to the wall,” said Verve.

“It’ll be a wonder if we don’t come out of here with some disease or other. Goodness, the smell.”

Verve was trying not to think about the smell, breathing mostly through her mouth.

After walking for a mile, they came upon a juncture where the tunnel split into three different parts. Down the middle one, the one they needed to take, the way was dark, the fae lighting either having failed or not been installed there in the first place. Verve stretched out the lantern in front of her, took a fortifying breath, and continued on ahead.

The going did not get easier, and the water was slowly rising. Olive walked with one hand on the left wall to support herself, Verve noted as she looked over her shoulder for a moment. Water dripped from the ceiling of the tunnels, fizzing and hissing as it made contact with the lantern’s glass encasement. The light stuttered and went out entirely. “Blast.” They had been plunged into complete darkness.

Olive grabbed on to Verve’s shoulder and gasped. “We must relight the lamp.” There was the sound of her fumbling for the lighter and then a distinct ploink as it fell into the water, which was now up past their knees.

Not willing to risk any magic just yet, Verve handed the lantern back to Olive and said, “We’ll have to use our other senses to get us out of here. Hold on to that; we might be able to find a way to relight it at the library.”

The crone whimpered. “As you say.”

“Keep your hand on my shoulder so we don’t become separated.” Verve focused her eyes and used through-sight, hoping to catch a glimpse of a light source ahead. Unfortunately, the lights had all died within the next mile going straight. At the next crossroads, one that broke into two paths, the lights were lit on the path to the right. But the path to the left, the one they needed to take, was dim for a-ways. Cursing, Verve closed her eyes and returned her sight to normal. She relayed what she had learned to Olive.

“Let’s keep moving,” said Olive. “I don’t want to be down here when this place is filled to the brim.”

Verve gritted her teeth and felt her way with her free hand as she continued to walk.

They went on like this for twenty minutes, stopping briefly every so often to let Olive rest. Finally, the water now to their thighs, they reached the next crossroads and took the path they needed to, thankful for the all-too-brief encounter with light. The next juncture, Verve noted after using through-sight, was perhaps a mile off. And soon enough, her eyes could pick up dim light in the distance, and she quickened her steps.

“There sure aren’t many branches,” said Olive, her teeth chattering audibly.

Verve nodded, though she knew the woman couldn’t see it. “That’s probably because there are only so many entrances. Too many and you risk being discovered.”

Olive coughed. “And we just so happened to come across one of the few?” Her tone was dark with suggestion.

“The voice did tell me to go into that shop. Perhaps he knew it was a safe place?”

“About the voice,” said Olive. “What do you think it is? And, more importantly, why does it want us to find the Lands of the Dead?”

Though it had been troubling her as well, Verve simply kept walking and said, “Maybe it just wants to keep me safe.”

“Safe for what, though? No one helps another without having some purpose in mind for them.”

Verve left that statement alone, and they moved forward in silence. At long last, pinpricks of light shone in the near distance, and Verve’s steps quickened, earning a groan from Olive. “We take a right here,” said Verve after a moment of recollection. “There then should be another crossroads in less than half a mile, from where we should soon come to the entrance to the library.” And I don’t think it’ll be a moment too soon. Indeed, the water was up to her hips, and she knew the storm aboveground was still raging on.

There was a great gurgling noise, and Olive yelped. “There’s something alive down here.”

“Then let’s put more haste in our steps,” said Verve, who had already spied multiple bloated rat bodies floating around.

Again there was a great burbling sound, followed by a distant groan, like rusty hinges opening, followed by a ploink. Verve put her finger to her lips as Olive opened her mouth to say something else. “Someone else is down here,” Verve whispered. Indeed, she now heard the distant splashing of water and two, thankfully human, heartbeats and breaths. That didn’t mean they weren’t among Dacre’s Trusted, however. “Set the lantern going down the left path. Maybe whoever’s down here will think we’ve gone that direction instead. Quickly!”

Olive did as Verve asked and they pushed on as quickly and as silently as they could through the water.

Their pursuers were not trying to be quiet now as they splashed through the tunnels. Verve tried not to let panic get the better of her. Whoever was behind them might be smuggling something or running an errand. In these conditions? That’s not very likely. The thought nearly took Verve’s breath away, and she had to remind herself she was not powerless any longer, that she had a great deal of magic she could wield if she were in danger. That calmed her somewhat, but the fingers of her hand not holding the book sack sparked, filling the tunnels with the aroma of burned sugar.

“Control yourself,” Olive murmured and squeezed Verve’s shoulder, though not in an affectionate or reassuring manner. Verve could smell and see the crone’s terror, though in her current state, it was not appetizing. If anything, it made her feel nauseated.

They reached the next juncture, took a left, and were met with a wall and a rusted metal ladder. Verve paused and listened, and was relieved to hear only one heartbeat following them now. One pursuer would be easier to deal with in case of a fight.

“What are you waiting for? Climb the ruddy ladder or get out of the way so I can.”

Verve held up her hand, listening for sounds above them, though she wanted nothing more than to claw her way out of that hellhole there and then; the water was waist-high at the moment, and still rising. Hearing nothing overhead, she nodded and hurried up the rungs. On the ceiling of the tunnel, she found the outline of a square hole roughly the size of the one back at Chao’s shop. Verve squinted in the dimness but still couldn’t find a lever or knob that would open the door, so she began doing what Chao had: knocking on random parts of the tunnel wall.

Below her, Olive was growing more and more upset by the second. “You’re making far too much noise. You’re going to bring whoever’s down here right to us in a moment.”

“Is there a lever or something out of the ordinary down there?” Verve asked through her teeth. No matter where she rapped, nothing happened to the trapdoor.

Olive began running her hands over the walls, water lapping up against her waist. Their pursuer had grown silent, but for the quick beating of their heart. “There’s nothing here,” she said.

“Did you check the ground?”

“How am I supposed to see anything on the ground? It’s as dark as sin down there. I—”

There was a shrill whirring sound as a stream of red shot toward them, striking the wall by Olive’s head. The air smelled of bitter coffee, and Verve knew the Trusted had found them. There was a moment’s reprieve before another blast of magic flew at them, heading straight for Olive, who threw a shield up just in time.

The next bolt of fire nipped at Verve’s heels, scorching through her shoe right down to her skin. Exasperated but unhurt, she released her hold on the ladder and let herself plummet briefly, and then pulled up so she was hovering with just her feet in the water.

Another blast flew at them and another, ricocheting off Olive’s shield, which was losing vibrancy. “Stop him!” Olive cried. “What are you waiting for?”

Verve looked at the man in the shadows, hesitated a split second and threw up a more powerful shield between him and them. “I don’t want to hurt you,” she said. “I know you’ve been taken from your home, most likely against your will. Can we just talk for a minute?”

Olive groaned. “Miss Verity, the water’s rising still. End this.”

Their assailant’s head cocked to the side and he made eye contact with Verve. And that was when she knew there was no saving him. She thought of lifting her shield, but that would expose Olive to danger, so it remained. The man charged at them with hands raised out in front of him as he rained blast after blast of magic at them. He hit the shield and a look of surprise registered on his face as he disintegrated.

Bile rose in Verve’s throat but she managed to choke it down. She let the shield drop. “Well, they know we’re here. There’s no sense in not using magic now.”

“He was being controlled,” said Olive softly. “His eyes just – weren’t right.”

Verve cringed. The fact that the man was being controlled made what she had done ten times worse. Trembling, she placed her hand on the door. The magic she fed into it was too much, and the square of metal flew off its hidden hinges with a resounding boom.

“Well, so much for arriving unnoticed.”

The library was quiet, though. No one took up the alarm, no one came running. In fact, the nearest heartbeats Verve could hear were muted by the walls of the library. “We’re in here alone,” she said, rising through the door. Confident what she had said was true, Verve got to her knees and held a hand out for Olive.

“What exactly are we looking for?” Olive demanded. She emerged into the library, dripping stinking water everywhere just as Verve was.

Verve lifted the door she had blown off and forced it back in place as best she could. “We need books on the Lands of the Dead.”

Olive stared at her incredulously. “And how do you propose we find them?”

They both looked around them at the vast collection of books. Olive was right: there were hundreds of shelves. How would they find anything without knowing where to look? Verve shook her head. “Is there any magical way to find them?”

“Not that anyone ever taught me,” Olive said with a huff. “We need to leave the city before his lordship arrives. I don’t think I need to tell you what he’ll do when he finds us.”

Verve suppressed a shudder. “I’m well aware, thank you.”

“Might’ve thought more about it before you led us here.” She moved toward the nearest shelf, which she began to scan. “The voice you’re hearing didn’t tell you anything else?”

“No.” Verve took another shelf, and at once her curse extended to some of the texts, the print on their spines vanishing. “Blast.”

“I can’t read any of this nonsense. Can you?”

Verve hugged herself. “I can’t.”

Thunder shook the building, and a few lamps on the walls blew out in the unnatural breeze that followed. “Miss Verity, we need to leave.”

Frantic now, Verve started grabbing texts at random, whether or not she could read the spines or if the book was conveyable. The conveyable ones caused the base of her skull to itch, but she ignored the uncomfortable sensation, taking no care in where she let the books land.

Olive was at her elbow. “This was a fool’s errand.”

Verve’s speed increased, no doubt making her into all but a blur of color and movement to Olive. “The answer has to be here somewhere.”

“You’re going to get yourself captured and me killed. Life debts or no, I’m not staying another moment.”

Verve laughed without humor. “You’ve already left me to fend for myself twice now. I don’t think….” She paused. There were a great many heartbeats now, all converging on the library. Verve inhaled. The air smelled of coffee, chocolate, and hot metal. “He’s sent an army after me. Olive, we need to—” But when Verve looked around, the crone was nowhere to be found, nor was the sack containing the food from Chao and the books she had stolen from Dacre’s estate. Verve cursed Olive and ran back to the tunnel entrance. Water was pushing up through the cracks outlining the trapdoor. Trapped.

Her breaths were quick and ragged as she ran for the nearest exit, having counted only four. How had Olive managed to escape? There was no time to puzzle over that. The din surrounding the library made Verve’s ears ring, and she forced herself at top speed through the back door, only to run headfirst into a magical shield.

With a yelp, she fell backward, her clothing singed. The contact had stung, but Verve knew she would be all right, though it might have killed a mortal.

Gloved hands reached for Verve, even as bolts of azure fire came screaming toward her face. Instead of engulfing her in flame, the magic formed a barrier of wind behind her, forcing her toward the assailants. All of their eyes were dead, their faces expressionless, and Verve knew they were being controlled.

Still the mob reached forward and attempted to subdue her, even as she bucked one after the other off. Among the Trusted, Verve heard several fae heartbeats. They were pushing through the throng.

Three of the Trusted surprised Verve from behind and quickly wound a thick metal chain around her waist while several others attempted to pin her arms to her side. “Gently, gently,” said a woman’s voice. “We’re to delay or subdue her, not harm her.”

Verve recognized that voice, knew it to belong to one of Dacre’s allies. Instinct took over. She pried her right arm from the mob’s grasp and touched the chain the others were trying to bind her with. At the contact, Verve pushed feelings of fury and desperation into the metal links, and magic burst forth from her fingertips. The chain exploded, and the twenty nearest Trusted surrounding her collapsed onto the ground screaming and writhing in apparent agony as red welts formed on their skin.

“Stay where you are,” said Verve, raising her hands in front of her.

But the Trusted did not heed her warning and those remaining swarmed forward. It was suspicious that none of the fae in the crowd aided those being controlled. They remained hidden among the mob, which seemed to be growing by the minute. Perhaps they were afraid and were sending the humans to weaken and tire her before they swooped in and finished the job they had been sent to do.

Verve needed to end this before Dacre arrived or one of the fae intervened. But knowing the mortals were being used as pawns made her sick to her stomach, and she hesitated to use force against the rest.

As one, those who were still on their feet cast a web of magical netting at Verve, ensnaring her. “Hold it steady,” cried one of the fae from a distance.

Verve howled in rage. Her vision blurred as magic poured forth from her body, much like it had done the day she had killed Helena. Wave after wave of pure power swept over the horde in flashes of blinding white, and thuds louder than thunder echoed all around her. The air smelled strongly of caramel and blood, and when Verve finally managed to regain control of herself, bodies littered the street around her. Those nearest to her had disintegrated, leaving piles of ash amid the puddles of water.

The storm had ceased, and now the air was eerily still. Horror at what she had done overcame Verve and she shrank back toward the library behind her. But where there ought to have been a solid building, she now found a partially collapsed heap, the roof having caved in and the western wall pushing inward.

A gust of wind tore Verve’s hair out of its tangled knot. Sobs wracked her body and her vision blurred once more.

There was a low moan, which snapped Verve to attention. She pushed off from the ruins of the library and stumbled around corpses, looking for the source of the sound. As she walked, Verve forced herself to look at each body. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice cracking as she spied a young girl among the crowd. She looked not much older than Dav, her eyes wide open in horror even in death.

Again someone moaned, and Verve tore her eyes from the sight and searched for whoever had made the noise. There were at least a hundred bodies here, and though she listened, she could only detect two heartbeats among them, one human and the other fae.

Verve found the human first. He was a young man, not much older than Verve, it would seem. His eyes were no longer blank as one being controlled, but wide and alert with terror.

When Verve knelt next to him, the man attempted to crawl away, whimpering like a frightened animal as his eyes rolled around in his head. “Please. Don’t kill me. I didn’t – I didn’t mean to…I don’t know what happened.”

“It’s all right,” said Verve hoarsely. “I know, and I’m not going to harm you.”

That did not seem to bring the man any relief. He shuddered mightily and crawled over a neighboring corpse. “P-please. Leave me. You’re so bright it hurts.” He flinched as Verve magicked on a pair of gloves and produced a clean piece of linen and tried dabbing at the blood on his forehead.

“It’s going to be all right. I’m going to get you home to your family. You have my word. No harm will come to y—”

The man began convulsing and coughing as though having a fit. There was a mighty cracking sound, followed by the stench of burned chocolate as he at last lay still.

Stunned, Verve gently shook the body. He didn’t move.

Strong arms grabbed Verve from behind and attempted to subdue her, but they were no match for her. She easily managed to free herself from her attacker’s grip, and caught them by their upper arm.

The she-fae blanched as Verve accidentally crushed her bones. “You need to come with me,” the creature said, her voice thick with pain. “You don’t know what you’re doing.” Her eyes were clear, telling Verve she was not being controlled.

“What does he want with me?” Verve demanded. When the she-fae did not answer, Verve shook her by the shoulder.

“He is the true king. His time is coming, and none will delay him.”

Verve bared her teeth. “What does Dacre want?”

Of all things, the she-fae smiled. “You, my queen.”

As one burned, Verve dropped the creature. She surveyed the carnage surrounding them, her breaths coming in sharp, terrified gasps. This was not the time to have one of her attacks, she knew, but she couldn’t stop her vision from blurring and darkening as she swayed on the spot, consciousness threatening to leave her.

The she-fae took advantage of Verve’s state and attempted to lift her, but Verve pulled off her right glove and grasped the creature by the throat. The skin-to-skin contact caused the she-fae to scream in agony and collapse. And as she lay on the ground, trembling, Verve picked a path through the bodies and ran away as quickly as her unsteady legs would carry her.

No one attempted to stop her at first, not that they could even if they tried. There were shouts in the distance, people gathering to the scene of destruction Verve had created. The thought of the amount of carnage she had caused made Verve falter on the outskirts of town. She allowed herself a moment to pause and breathe deeply in a back alley, and then rested her head against the cool bricks of the northmost building.

Keep moving, said the voice. You need to reach Nefalla before Lord Starside does.

Verve closed her eyes and tried to slow her breathing. “What is Nefalla?”

There was a pause. A place in the Lands of the Dead. It will give you what you are looking for.

“How am I to reach it now? I have no idea where I’m going. Do you?” She ignored the commotion in the city, voices calling for a witch hunt, and rested her head in her hands.

Imalkis knows where the land of the living touches that of the dead. He is in hiding because Lord Starside is hunting him. When she did not respond or react to the voice’s information, the man, wherever and whoever he was, let out an impatient huff. You’re going to get yourself caught and burned at the stake if you sit there much longer.

Verve shrugged. “Maybe I deserve it.” Her voice was hysterical and raw, and she couldn’t stop shaking. “Besides, I don’t know who you are or why you are helping me.”

I am helping you, foolish woman, because you are the Fire Queen and I will one day require your help in return. Now, stop wallowing in self-pity. There are men who saw you come this way, and they are but two blocks behind you. He was silent, though his irritation with her was palpable.

With reluctance, Verve nodded. “All right. Where am I going?”

Head north as though your life depends on it. When you reach the wall, do not stop for the guards. Push through the gate or find a way over.

She wiped the tears from her eyes so she could see better and staggered through knee-high refuse and all but fell into the open road. Upon emerging, however, she regained her balance and took off at a run. Her pace was far from supernatural, but enough to outrun all but those who were competitive runners.

They’ve set up road barriers and the gate is closing.

She did not pick up her pace. The attack she’d experienced had been short, but it had taken its toll on her body and mind, as had the events from earlier. “Where is Imalkis? Or do you not know?”

The being sighed. Don’t worry yourself with the potion-maker yet. Focus on the road in front of you and how you’ll escape the city.

Verve shook her head, leaping over a wagon that had been set in the path in front of her. The startled looks of the soldiers patrolling might have made her laugh, had she not just murdered so many people. “You don’t know where he is. Why else would you send me to the library for information?”

I sent you there first because it would have been easier to get the book than face Imalkis. He is crafty and you will have difficulty getting a straight answer out of him.

Verve dodged an arrow she sensed flying her way, then another. At last she was forced to increase her speed as armed men and women came into view, all standing guard at the closed gate.

The voice swore. You’ll have to find a way around.

She ignored that and kept running at the soldiers. More arrows screamed through the air, all coming shy of their mark, as she dove and danced around them. Soon, however, the air was peppered with them, and Verve was forced to take more evasive maneuvers. She feinted to the east then banked to the west, her speed increasing as she approached the wall as close as she dared.

Soldiers came at her, swords raised in a seemingly impenetrable wave. How word had gotten to them so quickly, Verve couldn’t say, but it mattered not now. They charged at her, fear alive in their eyes. Some were too quick to be human, but they did not possess the power she did.

Unwilling to harm one more soul, Verve used her momentum to soar high into the air and urged herself over the men and thence over the wall. She dared not land even after she had cleared the men atop the bulwark, since there were soldiers standing in lines on the ground. With a deafening grinding sound, the gate was raised. Horses whinnied and hooves pounded the dirt road far behind Verve, so she increased her speed and veered to the northwest, leaving them far behind and unable to follow in a matter of seconds. The line she cut was over a pathless forest of trees; no horse could easily make its way here.

Soon Verve was satisfied that a good five miles lay between her and the soldiers and, not wishing to be sighted by the watchers she knew stood near the Mortal Gate in the distance, she landed. Her energy might not yet have been spent, but her mind was awash with conflicting thoughts and feelings. Bleary eyes made for difficult navigation, and her fingers kept pulsing with barely contained fire, so she allowed herself a moment to rest and regain control of herself.

You don’t have that much of an advantage, child. You’ll need to make a gateway before the day is through.

Verve scowled at the heavens whence the voice came. Its owner’s presence had felt stronger the moment she left the city, and she could not help but wonder where exactly he was. “For pity’s sake, give me a moment. I just killed—”

You just took care of yourself in a less than fair fight. There was a short pause and then an impressed and yet annoyed, I did not know you could fly. Is there anything else the Fire Queen can do that I ought to know of?

She did not respond but closed her eyes and counted backward from twenty. The fire in her clenched fists dimmed. Shaking still, Verve took a calming breath and pushed forward. As much as she hated to admit it, it remained likely that someone had spotted where she had landed and could be on her trail within minutes. “Where is Imalkis? Or should I just make a gateway to this Nefalla you mentioned?”

You cannot portal directly to Nefalla. There are no hawthorns there, he said impatiently.

That made Verve frown. “Then how am I to get there eventually, if that is the goal?”

The man sighed. It is within the Lands of the Dead. And before you ask, you cannot open a gateway to the Lands using any old tree. It has to be a very specific hawthorn, one whose whereabouts Imalkis alone knows of.

“Right. That’s why Dacre’s after him.” But what does Dacre want in the Lands of the Dead? And why does he seem to want me there too? The thought made her feel ill. Whatever Dacre had in mind could not be pleasant. And Olive…was she all right? If so, would Verve see her again? Perhaps the old woman would betray Verve in exchange for peace.

He’s after you as well, said the voice. The Fire Queen is the only one who has the power to open Death’s Maw. Make haste. Get to Githtariel before Starside does. It is vital that you are not caught.