Ava sat up and pushed herself into the corner of whatever room she was now in. She honestly had no idea where she was. Not like that was anything new for the day she was having. She was back to being soaked, though.
Wherever she was, it wasn’t the huge and overwhelming Baroque hallways of twisting architecture and overgrown trees. She was in a smaller living space. It was maybe fifteen by fifteen feet square, with what she would expect for more Victorian style furniture, if it had been left outside for a year and…had done some acid. Everything, like what she had seen elsewhere, waswarped and twisted, and overgrown with vines. She watched a small, brightly-colored bird fly from a shrub and up onto a small, sprouted tree in the corner.
Against one wall, a fire was burning in the marble hearth. It was a Victorian parlor that had been also turned into a greenhouse. Somehow. With a hard ceiling.
Magic. She had to stop trying to make any of it make any sense.
The woman sitting on her heels some five feet away from Ava was one of the most beautiful people that Ava had ever seen before in herlife.She had long, wavy chestnut-brown hair that fell around her shoulders. Her lips were painted white and formed in a perfect smile. And her dress was almost entirely white as well, with a few layers of black at the bottom in the back, but all of it was made from flowing layers of gossamer that pooled around her on the floor.
Her ears were pointed, and once more, Ava knew the woman—Ibin—was distinctly not human.
The man who had spoken was almost Ibin’s mirror opposite, standing close to the fire. He almost looked like he was hiding from Ava, his head ducked, his long dark hair hiding his face. He was wearing an expensive-looking, dark burgundy suit that looked vaguely Victorian, though she couldn’t quite tell from where she was.
Lying on the floor next to her was the rusted, locked-up tome.
Ava pulled her knees up close to her chest. “Who are you—what do you want—please don’t hurt me—fuck?—”
Ibin laughed and shifted to sit on the floor. “Ye-eap.That’s exactly the right response to this place. That’s about the same as I had when I got turned into this mess.” She waved a hand down at herself. “Though I suppose I can’t complaintoomuch.”
“You mustn’t speak of yourself in such terms. You know how it troubles me.” Nos folded his arms across his chest.
“I know, I know.” Ibin waved a hand over her shoulder at him, but never took her eyes off Ava. The woman’s eyes were a perfect shade of spring green, much brighter and more vivid than Ava’s own. “He doesn’t quite get it. He wasn’t born human. He doesn’t know what it’s like to suddenly have to grapple with having your whole concept of reality going all topsy-turvy.” She gestured with her hand in a loop-de-loop.
“You were human once?”
The woman cackled. “You could say that.” She shifted to sit against the wall closer to Ava. “Which is why, when I heard you screaming, I made Nos kick in the door. You were smart to make a deal with the hag to make sure you could leave whenever you wanted.”
“But foolish to close the door.” Nos sighed, clearly exhausted. “And now, we have to deal withthat.”He pointed at the book.
“It’s not her fault and you know it.” Ibin shook her head.
“I’m surprised you let me keep it.” Ava nudged the book a foot farther away from her. “It’s not like I want the stupid thing.” But shedidthough. Even as she said it, the words felt wrong as they left her mouth.
“Like we could do anything to keep it away from you.” Ibin laughed. The sound was genuine—pleasant—and full-throated. It wasn’t delicate like the rest of her. It belonged in a bar, not in a ballet. “Trust me. Where you go, it goes. Whether you like it or not.”
“Great.” Her instinct was to say that she wanted to go home. The urge was there, deep inside. To go to the one place in the world that wassafe.Where she could shut the door and lock out everything that wanted to hurt her.
But she had no home to go to.
There wasn’t anywhere for her to belong.
It twisted a knife in her gut unexpectedly that brought tears to her eyes. With a snarl of sudden frustration, she wiped her eyes on her sleeve. “Sorry. It’s—it’s been—I just?—”
“No need to explain.” Ibin put her hand on her shoulder and gave her a gentle squeeze. The look of honest sympathy on her face was so tempting for Ava to believe. Shewantedto believe that Ibin cared.
But Serrik’s warning rang in her mind. And these were the fae. She was surrounded by tricksters and monsters. She had to remember that.
“The mad bastard only takes those who have nothing left to lose.” Ibin rested her head back against the wall, her expression falling. “Or those who come here foolishly thinking they can control thatthing.”She gestured a hand dismissively at the book. “Gregor was one of the latter.”
Nos huffed a laugh. “He believed a lie. And the hubris required to believe that he couldcommandsuch a thing? Humans. Always reaching beyond their capabilities.”
While Ava didn’t disagree with the sentiment, coming from him, it sounded offensive. “Okay, jackass.” She laughed. It was a weak laugh. But it was the best she could do.
Ibin snickered. “Don’t hold it against him.Toomuch.”
Studying the book on the floor for a moment, she realized she didn’t know what it reallywas.Only what Serrik had told her—that it was a key to the prison that she was stuck in. “Why was Gregor after that thing?”
“Oh, buttercup,” Ibin said through a long exhale. “There’s so much you don’t know.”