I went straight to my closet. I dug through dresses and fighting leathers, shirts and pants, searching through everything for my old coat.
Please be here,I begged any god that was listening.
And there, deep in the back, was my faded coat. I breathed a sigh of relief as I drew it out. For a moment, I just hugged it. It still smelled like autumn back home—crisp apples, pumpkins, cinnamon. Closing my eyes, I could imagine myself striding through the wheat fields, the stalks crunching beneath my feet.
Shaking off the shroud of nostalgia that threatened to bring backthe tears, I dug through the pockets. There it was—looking significantly more worn than in my dream.
I had Violet’s journal.
I curled up back in bed and flipped through it, my aunt’s handwriting as fresh on the page as the day she wrote it. I knew I didn’t have time to read it cover to cover at this moment, but surely if there was the information I desperately needed, it would jump out at me.
Or so I thought.
What I read contained wonderful accounts of Violet’s days, described in such a way that made me think we’d have gotten along famously if she had lived. And every time there was a mention of my parents, my heart soared. Interspersed with those stories were cryptic statements that I had no idea how to decipher.
Hours later, as I heard the bells chime and realized I was late meeting Finn, I was no closer to understanding the dream, why Nana had given me Violet’s journal, or what exactly I was supposed to do.
I hurriedly got dressed and made my way to the front yard. Finn was leaning against one of the stone archways before the castle gates, looking remarkably relaxed. Hopefully he’d had a good time last night.
He pushed off the wall as soon as he saw me, hurrying over. “Lexie, I just heard. Are you?—”
“I don’t really want to talk about it,” I said softly.
“Then we won’t. Are you up for training today, or?—”
“Yes. Let’s keep with whatever you had planned.” I needed to make progress somewhere.
He gave me a hesitant grin. “In that case, today is teleporting day.”
Watching my face, he chuckled a little as my stomach churned in anticipation. Nothing like the challenge of hurling myself into the unknown to distract me from murder.
“You’re ready,” he assured me.
I didn’t believe him.
“Now, I don’t have my body channel, and our master teleporter has wandered off again, but as best I understand it…”
He lost me in his explanation, but I got the basics—pull body and mind together, with a bit of earth, and think about where you want to go, then just go there. Sounded simple enough. What the hell. How bad could this be?
Famous last words.
I wished Griff was here, teaching me how to do this.
A golden light blazed within me as I did what Finn said and flung myself into the ether. I felt the familiar nausea-inducing, swirling sensation, then landed hard into something. Or someone, I corrected as I heard a loud thud with an “Oof,” then a “The fuck?” and then incredulously, “Princess?”
Warmth spread through my body as strong arms clutched my elbows to steady me.
I raised my head and looked down at him from where I was pressed firmly against him. We were lying on the ground, Griff flat on his back with me on top of him, our hips pinned together. Guess I’d found our teleporter.
“Hi.”
“What the hell are you doing here?”
I opened my mouth to answer—then the nausea hit and I rolled off him to double over.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Griff leapt out of the way to avoid getting vomit all over him, but like the true gentleman that he was, he held back my hair.
When I thought I was done, I hesitantly raised my head.
