Chapter 3 SLEEP WITH ONE EYE OPEN

BUDDY

Ring, Braid, and Potion arrived before the hawk-eyed archer stepped down from his perch. The three fae crowded me as Braid and Potion lowered me all the way to the ground, stretching out my legs carefully, but not nearly gently enough. Every shift of my leg, no matter how slight, pulsed deep through its wound.

Arms crossed, Ring tapped his fingers against his elbow as if me dying were the worst of inconveniences. The idea of making him pay for being such an infuriating twerp spurred me on.

Potion examined my wounds while Braid told me, "Hold on." I wanted to reply that I wouldn''t have to hold on if they hadn''t shot me, for sunshine''s sake, but the pain was too great to speak. Besides, what would they have cared? Ring''s ennui suggested he wouldn''t hesitate to order me shot another time if I gave him reason.

My blinking was heavy now and my heartbeat erratic as my body seemed to alternate between surrendering and fighting, giving way to new waves of fire with every push to make it another few minutes. With how loudly my heart was thumping, I didn''t think the bolt could have pierced it.

I gasped and coughed while Braid held on to my shoulders. Without warning or particular gentleness, Potion snapped the arrow protruding from my back. He tossed the fletching to the side, braced a hand against a breast, squeezing hard as if it were designed to be a handhold, then lights as bright as the sun flashed behind my eyes as he pounded the ragged edge of the broken arrow. Every rack of my body felt like it tore me in half all over again.

Potion yanked the tip that had emerged through my chest, clearing the projectile, and bile rocketed up my throat. I barely managed to swallow it back down. What was worse than being shot and kidnapped by cold-as-stone pricks? Being shot, kidnapped, and covered in vomit. Ring probably wouldn''t even spare a fancy handkerchief that matched his precise ensemble for me to clean up.

Swallowing more bitterness, I wheezed, blinking rapidly, able only to focus on getting to the other side of this blinding pain. Once my eyeballs stopped stinging, I zeroed in on Ring''s tap, tap, tapping, but simply observed now and made myself endure.

Puncture wound in my chest receded, until a new sting made me gasp.

I jerked in the men''s grip before understanding that Potion was rubbing some sort of liquid, freaking fire directly onto my flesh. It stung worse than the original injuries. With a finger, he widened the hole in my undershirt so he could spread the salve or whatever it was in a wide circle.

Long torturous moments passed before the burn finally began to cool. I breathed a lungful of relief.

Braid slid behind me, pulling me onto his lap, my back against his chest. Potion set a petite, glittering bottle on the ground beside him and braced a hand on my hip, the other reaching for the arrow sticking out of my leg.

Oh no. On holy dragon fireballs, shit no.

I did my best to steel myself, but anticipating what was coming did no good. Again, Potion broke the arrow, plucked a few stray shards of wood from the ragged end, then bent my knee, bracing a hand against my shin. Before I was ready, he slammed the butt of his other hand against the arrow like a hammer.

Despite my determination not to, I screamed.

Oh, please, Ring said. "It''s your own fault."

Through the pain, or perhaps because of it, I tilted my head up at him and grinned. He flinched before pretending he hadn''t.

If my smile revealed even a little bit of the hatred I was feeling toward him, then I could understand why. Sleep with one eye open, buddy. I''ll be coming for you.

The ointment stung then soothed, and before I''d gathered my strength, Braid and Potion were helping me to stand, one of them on either side, draping my arms over their shoulders.

Do you need us to carry you back to the carriage? Potion asked. A bit like Ring, his question didn''t seem borne from compassion, rather from expediency. What was the fastest way to get me back in that carriage and resume our journey to wherever in Embermere they were taking me?

No, I answered, staring down Ring, whose eyes danced with ... amusement? Oh, I was so going to make him regret it. I tamped down the wild urge to kick him as hard as I could in the shin or better yet, between the legs.

Then to Potion, since I refused to thank my captors for anything, "I appreciate the assistance."

Whatever substance he''d applied hadn''t helped enough. Every step hurt, but I wouldn''t rely on them for anything even if it.

seemed I was indeed their prisoner. For now.

With my leg propped up on the bench seat and my back wedged partially against the wall of the carriage, I twisted my neck to stare out the window. It was partly to avoid engaging with any of them—Ring especially—but also because we were nearing the royal city of Embermere.

The closer we drew, the more the forests on either side of the road thinned until they eventually dwindled to nearly nothing, with houses popping up between what was left of them. At first, the dwellings were small and meager, a motley collection of huts, though decently maintained as if their owners appreciated all they had, however little it was.

They reminded me of the shifters'' encampment in Nightguard, where there was scant need for frivolous comforts when the caring of magical creatures was our purpose.

The trees that did remain also reminded me of home. Only the hardiest plants could survive the bitter temperatures, and those that did had needles for leaves and muted colors. But in this warmth, I''d assumed I''d find a land filled with vibrant hues and the fragrance of flowers delivered on gentle breezes. Of easy smiles and the laughter of playing children.

I''d figured everything about the place would make me feel alive, or at least more so than Nightguard had, where death sometimes felt a single bad freeze away.

But the landscape was largely painted in dingy browns and grays, with the occasional pop of color that stood out like a beacon of light in the dark.

A shudder jerked free my expectations. I couldn''t have been more wrong.

The carriage rolled past a curious creature, perhaps a third my height. She had scraggly hair hanging past her waist, a hook nose, a dingy tunic down to knobby knees, and a dour turn to her mouth. She stopped sweeping her narrow porch to glare at the carriage, and I quickly looked away.

A trickling brook snaked alongside us. Even the water seemed too meager for the size of the trench.

A pair of small children jetted out in front of us and though they chased each other in play, none of the laughter I expected trailed in their wake. They were eerily silent.

The sun''s rays highlighted the starkness of a land I''d imagined so very differently. Whatever magic was here didn''t seem all that magical. The dragons were fierce and often cold—calculating, and vicious. But there could be no denying their power or special nature. They were bright and shiny, and regardless of any feelings I had about working always in their shadow, I never denied their

magnificence. They were magic incarnate, and the shifters a version of them.

Someone who looked like an adolescent fae of some sort hurled a rock at us. It bounced off the carriage and one of the two men up front guiding the horses shouted, "Off with you, or I''ll see ya brought to court for punishment."

The young man bolted as if the driver had taken a whip to him. I frowned, recalling the bedtime stories Zako would tell me when I was young enough to still be starry-eyed and enchanted with life and my lot in it.

With broad strokes he''d described a bustling land that brimmed with magic in its every detail. A royal city at its heart, home to the royal bloodline, and the eight fae clans that surrounded Embermere, each afforded rule of an equal slice of territory, all falling under the overarching authority of the court and its king and queen.

I hadn''t intended to interact with any of my abductors unless forced to, but knowledge was power, and I was apparently clueless.

Are we in Embermere now? I asked none of them in particular.

Yes, Ring said, for once not sounding like he was sucking on the sourest lemon of the bunch. "These are its outskirts. The royal palace will soon come into view."

Why isn''t it more... bright? Cheery? Has it always been this way?

Potion flicked a surreptitious glance at Ring before feigning disinterest, brushing at the grass stains on his knees from helping me. Braid opened his mouth then snapped it shut. I waited.

Ring was back to sucking on lemons. "It''s plenty bright and cheery," he gnarred. "What do you expect, for them to dance and sing all day like the humans'' fairy tales?" He scoffed. "Would you rather return to your frozen block of ice in the mountains?"

Yes! Yes, I very much would, you know, since you kidnapped me, and I never agreed to come with you in the first place.

He glared at me, blinking in slow motion. "It was a rhetorical question. No one disobeys His Majesty the King. Or Her Majesty the Queen, for that matter, not if they want to live to see the next day."

Good to know, I bit out. "What does the king want with me exactly?"

Ring uncrossed then crossed his legs in the opposite direction. "If it were information you needed to know, I would have informed you."

Rubbing absently at the shoulder I banged in my leap from the carriage, I mused, "Does that mean you don''t know either?"

Ring''s next pause drew out, his tone when he finally spoke a dangerous, sustained hiss. "That means, if you want to keep your tongue, you might want to mind it."

cramped space."Or I''ll slice it out."

Though I believed him, I held his hard stare. With people like him who wielded what power they had as a weapon, any show of weakness would be exploited. They''d already figured out they could knock me out with a potion or arrows and force me to comply with their orders.

My smile felt too frail, but I revealed teeth anyway. Has no one taught you manners? You shouldn''t threaten me for asking questions. I have a right to understand what''s happening to me and why. At the very least, you owe me that.

Ring slid even farther toward me. I had to resist the urge to retreat as far against the wall of the carriage as I could.

You''re obviously not understanding me," he said. "Let me try simpler words." My nostrils flared as he dragged his words out slowly. "You have no rights but the ones our king says you do. He hasn''t informed me of any particular care to take with you other than to deliver you alive. There are many shades of alive." He didn''t blink as he let that sink in. I owe my king everything, and you nothing. Nothing at all. Can you comprehend nothing?

Self-righteousness bubbled up inside me as I stared back at him until I was surprised he didn''t combust from the force of my will alone. My jaw could break ice.

Tell me you understand, he added.

What I understand is that you and I will never be friends.

He sat back with a dark chuckle. "Well, thank the Mirror World for that."

I hesitated, then blurted, "what mirror world?"

Another quick look at Ring from Potion before he whisked it away. There was something there, I just had no idea what.

Ring was shaking his head in lament or possibly disgust, not a single strand of his russet hair sliding out of place, though it seemed it should. "You don''t even know what the Mirror World is?"

No. In case you somehow failed to notice, I''m not from around here."

Ring studied me for far too long before simply humming noncommittally.

What in the dragonfire did that mean? I pressed: "The Mirror World?"

He exhaled loudly. "Is where we are. Everything you see is part of it."

What?

Embermere contains the royal city and the territories of the eight fae clans. All of that, along with the Wilds beyond Embermere, make up the Mirror World of Faerie.

Oh. I didn''t realize Faerie was a mirror world, whatever that...

means."

That''s because Faerie isn''t. Our world is a mirror of it.

What? Why?

He flung his hands in the air, causing the ruby on that fancy ring of his to catch the light.

I debated the merits of persisting, but resigned myself to hoping I would have a history tutor. Anyone—someone to give me answers! Because what in holy fireballs was I doing here? And what could a king I''d never met before, of an apparent mirror world I''d never been to, want with me?

A host of similar questions scrolled through my mind as the landscape changed once more. The houses grew in size and became more ornate, also brighter. Though I wouldn''t say the houses were colorful—they were at least less drab, with accents and highlights the huts hadn''t had. A wreath of green and red berries hanging on a door here, a sky-blue ribbon adorning another there. More space separated the houses, and some even boasted a second story.

Next, a row of quaint shops were almost cute. No signage announced what they were, but I hoped I''d have the chance to find out. Nightguard didn''t have a single shop when our community was so small. But hundreds of people—at least—must live here.

I opened my mouth to ask about the population before deciding not to. Abruptly, the shops and dwellings ended and stone pillars bordered the road, marking its path. I craned my neck to see all the way to the columns'' capitals and the ornate carvings that undulated across them.

My heart froze mid-beat, throbbing within my chest and leg in particular.

Is that...? I swiveled to get a better look, wincing at the movement.

Braid and Potion glimpsed at me but didn''t speak. Neither looked appropriately horrified at the ghastly sight.

Yes, Ring answered, distaste with me somehow managing to roll off that single syllable.

The man was talented.

But, why? Why do you have a severed dragon''s head on display?

Another tilt of lips that spelled disdain.

Well, here''s some news for you: We might''ve just met, but I can already say the same about you.

Any dead dragon you see''s gotten exactly what it deserved. What do you think you deserve for taking me from my home without my consent and then shooting me?

A commendation for my extraordinary patience. His lips puckered and reached for his nose before lowering. Again, what

Majesty orders is to be done without question. A lesson you will soon learn."

Doubtful," I murmured. My jaw dropped as another column loomed into view. Another dragon head. This creature''s scales were a dull light brown, likely bleached from death and the constant sun. But I imagined they might have once been the golden yellow that was so familiar to me.

Saffron. For all his mischievous ways, I already missed him. These people, these disgusting murderers, would probably want to chop off his head and mount it for all to see.

This is sick," I said, better understanding why the dragons, as majestic as they were, rarely left hiding. Why they hunkered down in a place as isolated from the rest of the world as the Nightguard Mountains.

Because of this. And pricks like Ring.

What''s your name? I asked, my disgust heavy.

Ring studied me for a moment. "Why?"

Because I want to know what to call you when I curse you in my thoughts.

Then you can call me your lord.

I''ll do no such thing.

You''ll be made to soon enough.

You obviously don''t know me very well.

Another few seconds lapsed while he studied me, his gaze unnerving. "You were a servant in Nightguard." It wasn''t a question.

"No I wasn''t. Of course I had been, at least a little.

You served the dragons and the shifters.

No, I didn''t serve anyone. I did my part in a community, where we all contributed."

If you say so.

My fingers clenched and unclenched at my sides. I itched to be free of injury so I could bolt from the cabin again. Right then, I would have made a run for it, uncaring whether or not they shot me another time. At least I''d make them work for it. At least I''d get to fight.

When do I get my weapons back?" I asked around a tight jaw.

You don''t, answered the lord of assholery. "Not unless His Majesty dictates it."

Then take me to the motherfucking king already.

As fast as any of the dragon shifters, Ring jerked forward and slapped me across the face, hard enough to send a new festival of lights sparkling through my vision. I tasted blood on my tongue.

Blinking, I cleared my sight, though my ears rang dully. Sliding forward, every one of my injuries protesting, I reared back to return the gesture. I swung at Ring''s face, but my shoulder and chest pulled, and I was slower than usual.

My hand glanced across his ear before he caught my wrist, holding it in an iron grip.

Touch me again and you will regret it. This is my final warning. Remember, the king ordered me to deliver you alive. Nothing else.

Perhaps Finnian or Sandor would enjoy to have a turn with you...

He looked at the other two men, who did nothing to indicate if they would, or what exactly the principal prick meant by that.

Let. Me. Go, I gritted out.

He didn''t for long enough that I considered whether I should kick him or if I''d regret it. My body needed to heal, not receive more blows.

My breathing was heavy when he eventually released me. I slid back on my seat, as far away from him as I could get without appearing to be retreating.

I''m going to tell the king you hit me.

Be my guest.

With apathy once more ironing out his features, he faced the window, the road dotted with dragon-head-topped columns, making me wonder what kind of place this Embermere was, and what kind of king would rule it.