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  I thought he would take his arm away from the loop he’d made around my waist. It would certainly make lowering us easier if he used two hands. But Bastien held me as my head remained attached to his shoulder. When his cheek pressed back onto mine, I softened against him, glad he hadn’t decided to be a prick about the whole thing.

  “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

  Again, that delicious and somehow precious warmth flooded through me at his simple promise.

  His arm took on a protective hold now, clutching me to him to shield me from the world. I finally started to feel safe, despite our harrowing position. Of all the places I expected to find solace, Bastien’s arms wouldn’t have been on the list. Yet I couldn’t stop wanting to get closer, hold him tighter, and touch more of his skin. My lips wanted to kiss him for hours and days and whole years, but my conscience couldn’t commit to the effort. Bastien wasn’t mine, though he held me as if I was his. His grip was solid, gentle, and carried with it a command for me to understand that everything would be okay, because he would make it so. It was heady to be wrapped around that much strength.

  “If I can’t kiss you, can I at least think about it?” he whispered as we lowered down a few more feet. Hamish answered for me in angry rants and a lecture about all the ways Bastien didn’t deserve me. I laughed in time with Bastien, our chests moving against each other’s and increasing the sexual tension we knew we weren’t allowed to feel. “I think I’ve been around your squirrel too long. I understood the spirit of that one. Can I ask you a question?”

  “No.” I knew he’d ask things I didn’t have answers to.

  Bastien ignored me. “How come you never kissed anyone before? Is that normal where you’re from?”

  “No. It’s very not normal. And I never kissed anyone because the guys in my life see me as a guy. Plus, I study and work a lot. Not much time for anything else.”

  “You must be top of your class. I don’t know anyone that dedicated.”

  “You say that like there was a line of guys I was ignoring because I had my nose buried in a book. Whatever. It is what it is, and it’ll stay that way until something changes. Something big.” I shifted on his lap, and I heard him hiss in the dark. “Did I hurt you?”

  His voice came out low, seductive and borderline pained. “Daisy, you’re killing me.”

  “That’s a cute nickname.” I was used to the cruel nicknames. I smiled into his shoulder, making it my new home away from home as he lowered us with painstaking care down until his toes touched the water.

  The green light took me by surprise when it shone beneath us, lighting up the fear on my face and the determination on his. He set into business mode, taking over as the authority, now that we would be in his world. “Okay, when we go through, you have to hold onto me. Stay quiet and keep Hamish on you, otherwise he’ll be seen. We don’t have squirrels in our world.”

  “Okay.” I held tight to him, and for a few seconds we hugged each other in the glow of the green water that lit only half our faces. There were flickers of shadows, and they played on the secrecy of the moment that would remain forever ours. Before he plunged us down into the water, I clung tighter to him. “Bastien?”

  “Yeah, Daisy?” he answered, brushing his nose back and forth against mine.

  I leaned up and planted a delicate kiss atop the dimple in his left cheek. “Thanks. That was probably the sexiest thing I’ve never done.”

  He chuckled into my ear. “I think we can raise the stakes next time around, yeah?”

  With that, he plunged us down into the glowing water that wasn’t wet when we touched it, but merely a mirage. I held on tight, not knowing what life would hold as we landed crack in the middle of Faîte.

  19

  New World, Old Foes

  I’m not sure what I was expecting, but this certainly wasn’t it. We landed in a building that had a mixture of plaster and mud walls that led to larger rooms. I could hear men shouting in unison and stomping. It sounded like angry calisthenics.

  “Great. We landed right in the middle of rounds. Quiet as you can, okay? And keep your head down.” Bastien lowered me slowly, letting me slide down his body until my feet touched on the gravelly dirt that served as their flooring. Though I could’ve stood next to him, Bastien held my head to his chest. I felt the fear rising in him, and realized that just getting me out of the military building and into the populated city would be more work than he anticipated.

  There was a soldier in brown leather armor standing behind a podium to our left, scribbling on a piece of parchment with a quill. An actual quill. I wanted to touch it, but knew now wasn’t the time. He wore a deep red long-sleeved shirt with what looked like a snake in gold on the shoulders. Bastien whispered to the soldier, “Good to see you, Macon. Did Reyn go on ahead?” He moved me to stand behind him, shielding me with his far larger body.

  Macon wasn’t nearly as tall and muscular as Bastien. He had the build for pencil pushing, which was exactly what he was doing as he scratched the parchment with his quill. His hands were dainty, almost feminine. He wrote down Bastien’s name as he whispered, “He got in fine and went on his way with his passenger. Do you have the package?”

  “We’re in. Write down our arrival time as earlier this morning.”

  Macon bowed his head over his podium, his eyes on his parchment so he didn’t draw anyone’s eye. “Your majesty. I offer you my sword, should you ever need it.”

  Bastien nudged me, and I realized Macon was talking to me. Bowing to me incognito. Like I was important or something. It was too weird. I was the girl in the back of the class, baseball cap on and head pointed downward, praying the teacher wouldn’t call on me. “Um, thanks, man. Thanks for keeping things quiet, too.”

  I could feel Bastien’s internal groan at my lack of decorum. “Let’s go, your majesty,” he said with a hint of exasperation.

  I shifted to his side, keeping one arm around his back. He moved my free hand to grip the buckle of his belt under his flannel, so I for sure didn’t get separated from him. “Ha. You have to be nice to me here,” I teased him in a whisper. “‘Your majesty.’ You’re too funny.”

  “Oh, shut up.” He started walking forward down the hallway, hugging the wall and darting into an open doorway when two soldiers made their way past us. He led us upstairs on the balls of his feet so our footsteps weren’t heard on the wooden steps. I could feel his nerves building as we snuck past doors with labels on them I was too frazzled to attempt to read. One door made him particularly unsettled. He paused, his arm holding me tight – in part to shield me from whatever harrowing menace awaited inside, and part to have a friend to cover him through the old wounds that hadn’t quite healed. He clutched me tighter to him, his brows furrowed in what looked like remembered pain that was both physical and emotional. We heard footsteps inside, so Bastien darted us into the room a few steps down the hall, letting us peek through the gap in the doorjamb.

  When the ominous door opened, a hook-nosed man with skin so tan it was almost orange came out, sniffing the air like a dog. Bastien froze, and then reached into his pocket for his knife. I could tell he was readying himself partially for if we were found out and part because he just plain hated the guy.

  “Pierre?” the man called, looking down the hallway right past us.

  Hamish clung to my shoulder, even his tail refusing to twitch. He told me he didn’t like the hook-nosed man as his claws dug into my shoulder. Animal instincts were rarely wrong when it came to danger, so I kept myself completely silent and thought invisible thoughts.

  Bastien’s thumb stroked the button on his knife’s hilt to slide the blade out when the man came all the way out of his office to walk by, but he refrained, keeping our cover that much longer. When the hook-nosed man passed us, I smelled a waft of what I could only describe as pancake makeup. Lane had convinced me to go out for the junior high musical, but I’d been too shy for the tryout. I ended up being a grip, which basically means you move things ar
ound all night on and off the stage. The bubbly, giggly actresses had fun costumes and wore that thick, vibrant makeup. It smelled chalky and a little like old people, and was impossible to wash off. It was then I realized the hook-nosed man was wearing pancake makeup all over, even on his hands. For what purpose? I couldn’t begin to tell you. All I knew is I wouldn’t be hugging him and risk ruining my André Roussimoff t-shirt.

  Bastien let out an inaudible breath when the hook-nosed man turned the corner. “Captain Burke,” he whispered in my ear.

  I kept my gasp muted when I realized we were super way close to the man who had ruined Reyn’s sister and put her in a coma. Bastien’s grip was tighter on me, and I knew he was worried that the worst was not over yet. We walked in-step together down the hallway, and just as we passed a fork where the hook-nosed man had turned down, a hand shot out and snatched at my hair. I bit off a scream and held onto Bastien, unsure if I should put my energy into fighting or running.

  Bastien gripped my ribs and without a word clicked his knife, driving it downward into the hook-nosed man’s makeupped forearm. The man cried out in anger, not just pain or surprise. I would’ve thought that was enough for him to let go, and enough for Bastien to pull back his blade so we could bolt, but it was only the beginning. The blade stayed perpendicular in the man’s arm until Bastien ripped the hilt up toward the man’s elbow, unzipping his skin and spilling out more blood than I knew what to do with. Bastien leaned over me to growl above the man’s screams, “That’s for Rachelle. I’m coming for you tonight, pig. Take my time when I gut you nice and slow.”

  Captain Burke drew his sword clumsily with his good arm, but I wasn’t about to let the two devolve into a swordfight. He’d attacked Reyn’s sister; I didn’t need any more of the story for my rage to start boiling. The man opened his mouth to yell for backup, so I whirled in Bastien’s arms and punched the guy in the throat twice in rapid succession to buy us a few seconds before the alarm was raised. Bastien scooped up my hand and punched the man so hard with the butt of the blade in his fist, I was pretty sure he broke the dude’s already wonky nose. That had to buy us a minute or two. I’m not sure that was enough to get us to safety. Bastien had the same thought, and punched three more times with his Hulk-like fist, knocking the man clean out.

  Bastien’s hand found the small of my back, claiming the intimate space for himself. He cradled my body to his so he could whisper in my ear. “If I’m here, you don’t have to do any fighting.”

  I clung to his flannel and leaned up on my toes to whisper a shaky, “I wasn’t about to let him take a swing at you.”

  Bastien’s eyes flitted to me in confusion, as if he didn’t understand why anyone would fight for him. “I’ll take care of this. You just stay close to me.”

  My heart thudded in my chest, and I worried that any second, our crime would be known and I would be found out. I was shocked no one had seen us or heard the man’s cries above the calisthenics that were now echoing through the long building. Bastien moved my hand to the back of his belt and dragged the hook-nosed man by his ankles back to his office, leaving a trail of blood that wouldn’t do us a lick of good in keeping a low profile.

  Bastien wasn’t concerned with time anymore. He wanted justice for Rachelle, and I couldn’t blame him. As soon as we were tucked inside the office, Bastien took out his knife and gutted the man, spilling his intestines out onto the floor in a pool of gore I was unprepared for. I let go of Bastien and turned away from the horror, shocked at the stark difference between his world and mine. I let out my silent screams into my hand, wishing I could run, but knowing I had no way out. I would have to go deeper into Faîte. Hamish hugged my neck, not caring all that much about the violence, but more about my emotional upset. Hamish was a good guy.

  Bastien wiped his palms off on the man’s pants and then gripped my hand. He bolted down the hallway with me, his arm shaking. We stopped caring about sneaking, and worried far more about getting the crack outta Dodge.

  20

  Dahu and Abraham Lincoln

  We hit the open air just as an alarm sounded throughout the building, alerting the world that we were murderers. Well, that someone was a murderer, and Bastien’s name was on the roster as having been inside the building with Reyn. We walked swiftly down the street, keeping our heads down to avoid the villagers who walked through the tented market square to our left. They all wore expressions of varying degrees of disinterest and zealous haggling, and paid us no mind. There were trees I’d never seen before, dark emerald leaves with equally dark green trunks, instead of brown. They had long umbrella tops for shading the grass, dirt and rocks we traveled along.

  Bastien slowed when we reached the woods that were finally thick enough to shield us from the villagers. “I have to cover myself. My name’s on that roster. My place will be the first they check. I’ve got to show my face, but you still can’t. Stay here.” He looked around, hating the idea as much as I did. “Sit down and keep your head low. I mean, low. I need to get you a hat or something. Everyone’s going to know you’re the Lost Daughter of Avalon by your face alone.” He glanced over his shoulder to peek at the village. “Don’t talk to anyone. I’ll be back in five minutes, okay?”

  I nodded, though nothing about the plan felt okay. “You’ve got blood on you!” I pointed out. I handed him a few leaves that had a bit of dew on them for him to wipe off his hands and wrists.

  “Thanks. If anyone takes me in for questioning, run straight down the path until you see the house with two green chimneys. That’s Marie’s place.”

  “Who’s Marie?”

  “A friend. She’ll take you in if you tell her Reyn sent you.”

  “Why can’t I say you sent me?”

  “Because she’s a jealous wench who’ll take one look at you and won’t let you past the door because she’ll assume we’re together. I mean, look at you! Five minutes. I’ll be right back.” Before I could answer or fully process what I’m pretty sure might’ve been a compliment, he leaned in and kissed my cheek before he jogged toward the village. My heart fluttered, but I worked to quickly calm it. I heard his voice greeting a few of his friends in the distance, totally devoid of the nerves I’d seen him shaking with mere moments ago.

  I ducked down and positioned myself behind a thick chartreuse tree trunk, trembling as I came down from the horror of my entry into Faîte. The bliss of almost having my first kiss with the most infuriating guy I’d ever met clashed with the fear of nearly plummeting to my death in the well. Follow that up with watching the guy whose bones I’d just wanted to jump gut a man, and I was overwhelmed. It was a lot to process.

  Hamish was in awe of the newness of the nature around him. He wanted desperately to go exploring, but I held him back. “You can’t go running off here. There are different predators, and we don’t know the lay of the land. We don’t even know where we are! No, no. Wait it out, little buddy. I’ve got more trail mix in Reyn’s bag that you can have until you meet some friends who can show you what’s safe to eat.”

  “I can tell all that without help,” he spouted, but remained in my lap all the same. He knew I was scared, so he crawled up on my knees that were pulled to my chest and leaned in to nuzzle his nose to mine. He promised not to leave me, and silly as it was, I needed that comfort.

  When I heard rustling in the bushes behind me, I stiffened, trying to remain silent. I closed my eyes, as if that would help me go invisible, and rubbed the belly of my lucky shirt, hoping André René Roussimoff would help shield me if I wished it hard enough. I’d made many a wish on good old André. In my imagination, he was sitting next to me, his back up against the tree, his eyes scrutinizing our surroundings so he could get an accurate read on the land.

  When the rustling came closer, I realized it was four paws, not two feet. My shoulders slumped and I gave good old André a grateful pat that we were facing an animal, and not a person. I turned to my right and bit my lip through a silent scream when a two-headed dog-like creatu
re came poking around my tree, sniffing the air around me curiously. The left head geared up to howl, but the right one stopped short when I held my finger to my lips. “Please, guys. I can’t be seen here. Tell your owner or friends or whoever that you didn’t see anyone.”

  I was scared my animal-speak might not translate here. I’d never talked to a two-headed pit bull before. Their sharp eyeteeth were malformed and jutted out from the bottom, almost like a vampire’s, if the fangs sprouted from the lower jaw. The two noses sniffed me and Hamish, who had gone completely still. Hamish gave me stiff-jawed apologies for blowing off my earlier warning that we didn’t know the terrain well enough to go exploring just yet. The left dog sniffed my shoes, pausing when I tsked the right one for sniffing Hamish with too much interest.

  I gusted out a sigh of relief when the dog (or dogs) sat down in front of me with their four paws and placed a head each on my knees, tongues lolling as their tail wagged playfully. “Thanks, guys. I really can’t have people knowing I’m here. That cool?”

  I heard more rustling of four-legged creatures and squinted off into the thick of the woods. I grinned when I saw a pack of five antelopes with legit unicorn horns jutting out two feet from the middle of their foreheads. They walked tilted, and I noticed that their left fore- and hindlegs were two inches shorter than the right side. Despite the wonky slant, they were elegant and didn’t trip. “Whoa! Hey, guys. Come on over.” They neared with caution, sniffing my feet before they sat down in front of me, their legs folding gracefully beneath them – nature’s ballerinas. “Hey, guys. Well, aren’t you gorgeous? I’ve never seen anything like any of you. Wicked horns.” They exchanged conspiratorial looks, and I started to pick up on bits of their conversations.