He releases me, and I collapse into a jumble of nerveless limbs and spent emotions. Somehow, the king’s Shadow is here, leaning over me, his mouth tight.
“Get up,” he urges. “Don’t debase yourself for any of these people. Especially not forhim.” He aims a snarl at Amriel, then crouches down, his hand extended.
For a moment, I simply lie there, staring at his creased purple palm. I shouldn’t reach for him, but I’m too depleted to haul myself off this floor on my own, so I place my hand in his. The king’s Shadow pulls me upright, gripping me by the elbow when my knees wobble. Around the room, jaws go slack. Eyes widen. From the corner, our baker, Andreius, surveys me like he’s never seen me before.
I swallow and look away. I have the distinct impression that once this is over, he’ll never try to kiss me again.
The Shadow glares at his king. “Where to, then? Home?”
“Yes, home.” Amriel’s mouth bends into a smile, but it somehow looks wrong, like he’s stolen it from someone else without understanding what it actually means. “I’m ready for dinner. And to drink myself into oblivion.”
“And the princess is coming with us? Not going into the Wildwood?”
“No. She’ll stay at the castle for a few days before we toss her in.”
My uncomprehending stare bounces back and forth between them. Surely it will take hours—days, even—to reach Amriel’s castle on foot. And won’t we have to pass through the Wildwood to get there?
The Shadow reseats his grip on my elbow. “Ready, Princess?”
I gape up at him. No, I’m not ready. I don’t even understand what’s happening right now.
When I fail to respond, he fishes something from his pocket—a metal sphere that flashes in the torchlight. “Just don’t let go of me, all right?”
I look down. A bronze globe rests in his palm—a tangle of gears and wheels, almost like a miniature armillary sphere. “What…what is that?”
He grunts. “A wayfarer’s gyre.”
“Awhat?”
His mouth slants downward. “Just hold on to me. Close your eyes, and when you open them again, we’ll be there. But remember. Donotrun from me. Don’t even turn your back.”
I scan the room to find every fae in attendance pulling similar contraptions from their pockets. Somewhere distant, Evelyn is shrieking, but my father must be dragging her away, because her screams grow fainter by the second.
“That’s it?” I croak. “I don’t get to say goodbye?”
“Do you actually want to?” The Shadow’s sphere whirs to life. Wheels spin within wheels, emitting a high-pitched buzz, like that of a whirring metal insect.
“I… I…” My hand clutches at my throat, because Idowant to saygoodbye. It’s just that no one but Evelyn seems to want to say goodbye to me.
The realization cuts off my protest at the knees.
Amriel leans close, clutching a sphere of his own. Light leaks from between his fingers, blazing brighter and brighter. “Don’t worry, Princess. Once we get there, I have more than enough wine to make you forget how this feels.”
My panicked glance finds the Shadow’s again. He gazes down, his mouth a grim line. “Hold on to me.”
“No. Wait. I?—”
But the world buckles like it did in the garden. Only this time, it doesn’t right itself. The floor drops out from beneath me, and I go tumbling—not down, not up, butsideways, as if reality has been torn in two and I’m being stuffed through the crack. The king’s Shadow comes with me, his sphere screaming as its gears spin themselves into oblivion.
Sound collapses. Weight vanishes. My stomach lurches, and for one, two, three terrible heartbeats, I am nowhere at all.
Chapter 5
Air slams back into me.
My breath tears from my lungs as I pitch forward onto all fours. I brace for a painful impact, but my hands and knees hit something soft, and I open my eyes to find pillowy moss beneath me. Which… Wait. Did we come out in the forest? We must have, because the air here is heavy, dense with the scent of earth and greenery. But when I raise my head, I freeze, my mouth falling open.
This is… It’s…
