Rhion pushes back from the table and stands. “Once upon a time,back when England was still ruled by men, there were doors all over Britain.” I’m so used to seeing Rhion take everything as a joke, it’s strange to see him so serious. I wonder if this is a glimpse of the real him.
“We know!” Eduart heckles, and throws a small piece of cheese at Rhion, which he deftly catches in his mouth. He chews, swallows, then continues.
“Queen Mor’s last act as ruler was to seal these doors behind her.”
“She told me she enchanted it to let only Bram through. She hoped one day he would come find her,” I say.
Rhion shakes his head. “That was a half-truth. The kings and queens of the Otherworld wield such power that theythemselvesare the conduit between the Otherworld and Britain. Queen Mor enchanted all the thin places, the places where the borders had been traditionally crossable, so that only one door remained—the royal family.”
“What does that mean?” I ask.
“Bram can’t open the door,” Rhion says. “Bramisthe door.”
Chapter Seven
“I don’t understand.” Ben rests his head in his hands. “Maybe you all understand, but I don’t get it at all.”
“Nope, utterly and completely lost,” Este replies. She looks like Marion in miniature. Same light brown skin and dark curls. Their eyes are the same too, big and brown and framed with thick lashes like a baby doll. At only seventeen, Este is the youngest in our little group. She speaks less than her older sister, but when she does, she does not waste words.
Rhion paces the room. “How do I explain? Bram, and Bram alone, can reach into the space between worlds and open the door. It’s as simple as it seems.”
“That’s the reason Others have only come through in London and Bath,” I say. “Bram has to let them in himself.”
Rhion nods and snaps his fingers. “Yes, exactly!”
On the bright side, there is no door somewhere, swinging open, allowing droves of fae to cross over into our world. But it also means I need Bram to let me into the Otherworld himself.
Disappointment crashes over me like a tidal wave. I try to swallow it, but a sob escapes my lips. Olive pats my back weakly.
“I’m never going to get them back, am I?”
Rhion pauses. “No. Don’t say that.”
I wipe a tear that’s escaped down my cheek. “Why not? It’s true.”
Rhion crosses the room and bends at my knee so we’re eye to eye. “Why do you think the folk love humans? So much we’d overthrow a queen and wait centuries to be reunited with you?”
“Because you’re all pea-brained little sadists,” Faith says under her breath.
Rhion doesn’t take offense. “Not entirely untrue. But it’s more than that. My kind may live forever, but we have one fatal flaw: our short attention span. The average human child has more ability for focus and self-control than a thousand-year-old fae. We love humans because we love human society. Our towns in the Otherworld are pale imitations of your cities because we couldn’t be bothered to build them. There are no fancy stores with candies wrapped in wax paper or pleasure yachts that carry us down rivers. Our society is functional, but hundreds of years behind yours.”
“And Bram means to halt all our progress,” I say.
“That he will,” Rhion agrees. “But there is another reason the folk love humans. It goes beyond fascination. Some of the folk can feel particularly strong human emotions. It’s a hit better than any faerie wine.”
“They’re gettingdrunkoff of us?” Emmy asks in horror.
“Not everyone. But yes,” Rhion answers gravely. “The stronger the emotion, the greater the feeling of euphoria.”
The sinking feeling in my stomach has only gotten worse. “I appreciate your information, but I’m still not entirely sure how this helps us get to the Otherworld or overthrow Bram.”
“They’re one and the same,” Rhion says. “You need to get to the Otherworld to rescue Lydia.”
All at once the puzzle pieces slot together in my mind. “You want me to get Bram drunk. Drunk onme.”
Rhion grins. “Clever girl.”
Brief elation quickly gives way to nausea. “I know that I am his wife, but I can’t fake loving him. I don’t have it in me.”
