Chapter 9
Chapter
Nine
Ifind Finn at the edge of the dance floor, holding two glasses of something pale and effervescent. “There you are,” he says, handing me one. “You look so lovely.” He smiles in that loose, dreamy way he’s had since I found him in the library.
“He won’t let you come home with me,” I say.
“Home? Who?”
“Adric. He won’t let me take you back. I asked. I’m going to ask again. And again and again until he says yes.”
Finn tilts his head. “Cora, sweetheart. I think we are home.”
My chest tightens as I shake my head, and I force myself not to panic.
“No, remember? They took you away from your house. From campus. You’re the dean of St. Augustine College, and you were pulled into this world.
It’s just like the stories Mom told you.
You said you didn’t believe her, but they were true.
And now we’re both here in another realm. A dream realm.”
“A dream,” he repeats with a nod. “Yes, most definitely a dream.”
I force back a wave of frustration, then work to keep my voice low and calm. “It’s more than a dream. You’re really here. You’re really and truly in a castle in another realm.”
He cups my cheek with his palm. “Oh, sweet girl. Of course you’d be here, too, just as Cassie is. My sweet niece. My big sister.” His smile lights up his eyes. “It’s a wonderful dream.”
I rub my temples. “Uncle Finn—”
“I’ve missed her so much.” He takes a sip, then lifts the glass in approval. “You should join us sometime. She’d love to see you.”
For just a moment, I go cold, then the ice melts into longing. Mom is dead, and Finn is dreaming—imagining he’s seen her just like I did.
Only he believes the dream.
And maybe, just a little, I wish that I could believe it, too.
I blink fast to hold back the tears. I can’t do this. Not tonight. I can’t pretend to my blitzed-out uncle that my mother is still alive. Which is why instead of arguing, I just take his hand. “Dance with me.”
“Ah, there’s a good girl. Dancing with your old uncle. We’ll show them how it’s done.”
I expect to look foolish, but it turns out my uncle knows how to dance.
I’m the one who feels ridiculous, because he’s like the male lead in a classic Ginger Rogers movie, and I am so not Ginger.
Still, it feels lovely to move with the music and to see Finn so happy.
So lovely, in fact, that I’m almost glad that Adric brought Finn here.
Almost, but not quite.
On the far side of the Great Hall, the king in question watches us from where he stands by a woman in a gold half-mask who’s gesturing at him with a wineglass.
Someone important, I assume. Probably one of the dignitaries from another realm.
Adric told me that representatives from all the realms are here tonight.
Even from Retribution, which is more than a little unnerving.
Whoever she is, he’s not listening to a word she’s saying. I know, because his silver never-miss-a-thing eyes are on me.
“He’s watching you,” Finn says mildly, turning us in a slow rotation.
“He knows he’s pissed me off.”
“Has he? What for?”
“I have a list. But mostly he’s refusing to let me take you home.”
“But Cora, dear, I don’t want to wake. This is a lovely dream.”
“It’s not a dream.”
“So says everyone inside a dream.”
I start to retort, then clamp my mouth shut.
“Cora, child,” he says in that soft way he spoke to me when I was little, “why are you worrying about me? I have that miraculous library. I have a lovely room and three meals a day. Best of all, I have Cassie, and my sister is very good company. I’ve missed her, and she tells the most intriguing stories. ”
“Mom isn’t—” I bite down on the rest of it.
“Isn’t what?”
“Isn’t who I’m worried about,” I say, because what else can I say? He truly thinks this is some wonderful dream he doesn’t want to wake from because he’s hallucinating my mother. Do I really want to convince this uncle I dearly love that he’s been kidnapped to another realm and his sister is dead?
Yeah, no. I really don’t. Adric’s already said I can’t take Finn home, so all I’d be doing is stealing the illusions that make this place palatable for him.
“All right,” I finally say. “Why don’t you tell me about the fascinating things you’ve found in that library?”
His eyes light up, and he takes a breath before diving in—with meticulous detail—to tell me about a manuscript on dreaming as a form of transit between worlds. “You know how I love science fiction,” he says, and it’s all I can do not to burst into hysterical giggles.
Thankfully, the music shifts. Finn grins, then spins me out onto the dance floor, leading just as he did when I was five, and we danced with my feet on his shoes.
Then I see the scar-faced man.
I don’t know him, but I’d seen him talking with Adric earlier, so I assume he’s castle staff.
He moves with purpose to Adric’s side. From where Finn and I stand, I can only see ScarFace’s back, but Adric’s face is visible.
His expression remains royally neutral, but his mouth tightens, and his eyes flick once to where I’m standing, then to Kali across the room, then back to ScarFace.
“Something’s wrong,” I whisper.
“Dreams can turn to nightmares,” Finn says, his voice still lilting and soft.
Finn’s not wrong, and my chest tightens when I see Adric striding toward us, with ScarFace walking two paces behind. The music continues, but the nearest courtiers have noticed the king and the scarred man, and a gossipy buzz of whispers fills the room.
When Adric reaches us, his tone is level, but his expression is tight. “There is a matter to deal with,” he says. “I would like you at my side.”
“What matter?”
“Rebellion,” he says, his voice as dark as the fury in his eyes. “I shall deal now with those who moved against me, and my bride should be at my side.”
“Oh,” I say stupidly, as Finn’s hand goes tight on my arm. “What are you going to do?”
He doesn’t answer. Instead, he simply takes my hand, then casts his gaze over the room, his attention finally landing on Chase.
“She stands with me,” Adric says, loud enough that his voice carries. “Where the realm can see her.”
Chase steps toward us. “Adric—”
“You as well, brother.”
Chase looks at me, and I nod. After all, this is my realm, too. And I need to understand all of it, including the king to whom I’m betrothed.
Finn is still holding my arm, and I turn to him. “Go back to your library. Please. Don’t you want to find Cassie?”
He blinks at me. The dreamy look is back, settling over his face like a soft fog. “All right, sweetheart. I’ll go. We’ll wait for you.”
We. My throat tightens, and I nod in agreement, because I can’t manage words without bursting into tears. I know it’s just his delusion, but I envy Finn for having Mom when I’ve lost her. And right now—with whatever political games are going down—I truly wish she were at my side.
She’s not, of course, but Adric offers me his arm, and I take it, then immediately feel more centered and less freaked out with his touch grounding me.
“Don’t speak,” he orders, his voice low. “Whatever happens, don’t speak.”
“I won’t.”
“Cora.”
“I promise.”
Chase follows one step behind as we walk out of the Great Hall side by side, with Scarface leading the way and the courtiers from the party following as we enter the courtyard, now lit by dozens of torches casting red flames to mix with the orange moonlight.
And there, in the flickering glow, six men kneel on the stones, their hands bound behind them. One—a man with his face cut open from cheekbone to jaw—sneers when Adric and I step near.
“My king,” the man says.
Adric tilts his head. “You haven’t been given leave to speak,” he says, releasing my hand, then ascending a low stone platform at the head of the courtyard. I don’t remember it being there a second ago, and I assume Adric conjured it. Or maybe the castle itself created it in service to the king.
Kali emerges from the crowd, then steps up to stand by Adric on the platform, her expression unreadable. She’s clad in armor now, and the metal catches the torchlight.
Adric glances at me, then indicates the lower level of the platform, on the far side, but still facing the crowd and the kneeling men.
Chase reluctantly takes me there, then stands beside me, his hand around mine, as Adric remains perfectly still, letting the silence build until it is almost too much to bear.
“General Vorian,” he finally says. “You would accuse these men?”
ScarFace steps forward. “They have plotted against you, my king. I swear that my report to you is true.”
Adric inclines his head, then looks at the broad-shouldered man with the cut face who kneels slightly in front of his five companions.
That’s when I see Flame-head kneeling second from the end. His hair isn’t moving now, but I still shudder as I look at this man who’d stood among the honored guests. And who’s now on the cold stones with his hands tied behind his back.
How can this be my world? I’m supposed to be stressing out over pop quizzes, not worrying about plots to kill a king in his own castle. Or whatever the hell these captured men were up to.
“General Drakkar,” Adric’s voice fills the night, but his focus never strays from the broad-shouldered man.
“You believe I have been weakened. That because my betrothed is from the Real, that gives you an opening to raid in my name without receiving my order. You believed I would not notice your treachery. That my attention was elsewhere.”
“No, my king. I only—”
“Did I ask you to speak?”
Drakkar leans back, his lips together as he shakes his head.
“You were going to ride on the Realm of the Others tonight. A realm that has paid me tribute since The Breaking. A realm whose people have done nothing to earn what you intended for them. You were going to do this in my name, and you believed your strength would prove me weak.”