He laughed, then raked a hand through his hair, combing out some of the dampness from the melting snow with his fingers. “Yeah, well, there’s a prisoner on the loose. A clever one, too, by the looks of it. If it’s not you, you’re doing a great job looking like it is. That ash is going to be a beast to clean off, but it helped hide your trail. Personally, I put ash and rock salt around my home every few days. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. You’re here. You’re safe. Just don’t go near the windows or door until the hounds have gone on their way. If they don’t catch your scent, they’ll head to the market gate and the outer city wall.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Aren’t you going to question me? If I were an escaped prisoner, I’d think you’d be more worried.”
He scoffed and stuck a twig in the flames until the end caught fire. Shielding the flame with one hand, he crossed to the nearest lamp and lit it. “King Kairos is a tyrant. He killed King Tobias, his own uncle, in cold blood and seized the throne.” His jaw clenched. “It was nothing short of a tragedy and utterly barbaric. King Tobias took him and his bastard half-brother in after Kairos’s birth father banished them. So, as far as I’m concerned, he’s a traitor. And a traitor will always betray.
“I’m the castle surveyor, the inspector of works.” He gave a slight twist of his hand and a dip of his head. “Or I used to be. I’m now the under-surveyor, little more than a purser these days. But it pays well enough, and as long as I stay out of trouble, it isn’t so bad.”
King Sour Face had murdered his own uncle? It shouldn’t have surprised me, but a part of me twisted and ached. I couldn’t imagine killing a family member, not even one I disliked. My dad had been a real bastard. He’d hit my mom and then stalked heruntil Aunt Maureen had had words with him. But as often as I’d imagined beating his face in, I couldn’t imaginekillinghim.
“I love my people, my home. I am loyal to my court.” Olen moved to light another lamp. “But I have no love for King Kairos. Thanks to him, we remain engaged in a violent, bloodthirsty war that will end only when either the Night Court or the Dusk Court is destroyed. All hope of peace died with King Tobias, because the Night King even has less interest in peace than Kairos does.” He crossed to the cabinets and the nearest cubby with a lamp. “All anyone wants is an end to the war and bloodshed. But that goes against the crown.” He turned, his face lit in profile from the lamp, showing a hardness in his eyes as if the cheer had drained. “My stance is that no good can come from a war without end. Neither the Dusk nor the Night Court can continue at this pace. Our resources are strained even without fighting and killing. The courts were meant to balance one another, and ever since—well, why am I even telling you this? You know all about it.”
I scowled. “Why would I know about all that? I don’t knowanythingabout this place.”
He drew back, then tilted his head as if genuinely confused. “You’re either Day or Aurora Court, are you not? Your hair and your eyes…they aren’t Dusk or Night.”
I shook my head, still gripping the knife, causing some ash to sift onto my coat. “No. I’m from Tennessee. I fell here through a portal. Do you know how I can get back? I don’t want to stay here if I can help it.”
“A portal? Like through one of the enchanted mirrors?” His eyes widened. “I suppose that explains why he took you prisoner. And you came from another realm entirely?” He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth as his gaze grew softer and more distant. “That complicates things…” He looked at me expectantly. “What’s your name?”
“Hannah. And, yes, I’m not from here. But what I’m getting from you is that thereareother portals. The one I fell through appeared in the air over the courtyard and then vanished.” There didn’t seem to be any harm in telling him how I’d gotten here. I had to trust someone, and he hadn’t thrown me to the hounds yet.
“That’s pretty powerful magic. How did you conjure it?” He scratched the back of his neck as his brow furrowed.
“I didn’t. It just…formed when I touched my aunt’s mirror.” The howling intensified, and I cast another look over my shoulder.
He chuckled. “Sounds like you’ve frustrated those poor hounds to the point of tantrums. You’re quick on your feet. I like that.” He gestured to the couch. “Have a seat. I’ll get us something to drink if you like, and then we’ll see about getting you back where you belong.”
Suspicion flared through me, hot and immediate. I tightened my grip on the knife. Why was he being so accommodating? Why wasn’t he demanding something or threatening me? People didn’t help strangers for nothing, especially strangers who’d climbed through their window in the dead of night. “You’re being awfully generous with your time and resources. I’d have thought you’d be more upset that I broke into your home.”
“A beautiful woman broke into my home in the middle of the night after escaping someone I consider a foul and rotted soul. You haven’t hurt me. Why would I be angry?” His gaze flitted past me to the hall. “It doesn’t look like you broke anything either. I’m guessing you got in through the formal sitting room. That shutter has needed repairing for a while, especially with the missing glass.”
"Did someone else break in?” It had looked as if I weren’t the first to get in through the window.
“No.” He shrugged, a wry smile on his lips. “Times have been hard, so I traded the glass for other supplies. I rarely use that room anyway, and no one here has much in the way of valuables. Besides, sometimes my brother visits and…well, he isn’t always on good terms with the law. Nothing harmful, I promise. He’s a good man underneath it all. Just doesn’t want to be a part of any court or nation.” He crossed to a cabinet and opened it. Inside were several dark, squat bottles. He removed one along with two wooden cups.
He brought them to the table and poured two glasses of what smelled like cinnamon, cloves, and nutmeg.
My mouth watered. The liquid didn’t have the scent of apple cider, but it was close enough to send a pang of homesickness through me. Aunt Maureen had always loved cider.
He offered me the nicer of the two wooden cups. After I took it, he sat and propped his feet up on the table, lifted the cup as if toasting me, and took a long drink. “There. That’s better.”
I didn’t move, holding the cup in one hand with the knife in the other. The situation felt too good to be true, and that unsettled me. Good things didn’t happen to me without something equally bad or worse following. As bad as getting trapped here and threatened by His Majesty of the Perpetual Scowl and Bad Mood had been, things could always get worse. Olen could be trying to stall me. Keep me here until the guards found and recaptured me.
I glanced at the door once more, ears straining to identify where the hounds were now.
He shrugged, then took another long drink and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “I’m not going to hurt you, Hannah. I’ve got no reason to. You’re clearly in a bad spot. Is it so hard to believe that someone might be willing to help you just because you’re in need?”
Oddly, I’d believed that about Ashren, and especially Thea. There’d been something about the way Thea had carried herself and spoken that had made me feel like she’d have anyone’s back if she thought they needed help. Ashren had seemed more cautious, as if he measured costs and decided on the best path rather than helping just anyone.
With Olen, maybe my sense of unease had grown because I wouldn’t be so calm about someone breaking into my home. I found it hard to trust him. Even if he did have an incredible smile and a way about him that made mewantto. “Yes.”
He chuckled at that, then snagged the bottle and refilled his cup. “Fair enough. You’ve probably dealt with more than your share of problems. Beautiful women always do. But you don’t have to trust me just because you’re here. I’ll prove that you can. If you like, I’ll even take a sip of your drink so you can see it’s not poisoned.”
I smiled despite myself. “And what if you’re immune to it?”
“Ach! You wound me!” He pressed a hand to his chest and grinned. “You really are a smart one. But no, I wouldn’t drug or poison you with this. This is clovefall whiskey. To add anything, even ice, would be an insult. The one benefit of everything being so cold these days is that it’s far easier to keep our alcoholic beverages at their ideal temperature. A small silver lining, but a silver lining nonetheless.”
The familiar turn of phrase made me smile. Had it leaked from my world into this one? Perhaps I wasn’t the first person to pass from my realm to this place. In fact, that made sense because somehow the dagger and the mirror had been in the iron chest under the rowan tree. That also meant there had to be a way back.
