“The point of this is to save your life.” Cuan spread his hands. “Yes, you would still be unable to return to your own world. But at least you would no longer be without rights in this one.”
There was a certain logic to that, she had to admit. But to give up all hope of ever going back home…to abandon her beloved cottage, her job at the animal shelter, her friends…
Just the thought of it made her feel sick.
“I can’t.” She shook her head in denial, hands tightening on Angus’s soft fur. “I can’t, Cuan. I don’t belong here. I want to go home. I can’t throw away all chance of that. Not even to save my life.”
His jaw clenched, and for a moment she thought he was going to argue further. Then he let out his breath in a long sigh, shoulders sagging.
“I do not claim to understand.” He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, raking it back behind his pointed ears. “But if that is your desire, I will—”
A melodic chime interrupted his words, as though someone had rung a silver bell over their heads. Looking up, Tamsin saw a bright dot circling above them. The mote of light sparkled, unfolding into the shape of a glowing butterfly the size of her palm.
Cuan’s mouth tightened. Looking like he was thrusting his arm into a toilet, he held up a hand.
The incandescent insect fluttered down to perch on his fingers. Its wings unfolded like a book opening, revealing graceful, swirling crimson markings.
“That looks like handwriting,” Tamsin said, fascinated despite everything. “Is that some kind of message?”
“Yes. A summons.” Cuan blew on the insect, scattering it back into fading motes of light. They swirled, illuminating the hard, grim lines of his face. “As I was saying, I will do everything I can to assist you. Starting with trying very hard not to die in the next ten minutes.”