I nod, my stomach tightening. Whenever he's around now, my body goes into alert mode, even when Prince has never tried anything weird. He’s always made it clear he has an agenda for me. Even if he got me out of the Collector’s cell and into his library, I’m not free.
"Then let's get you inside." Prince touches a hand to my lower back, guiding me out of the house and into a car in the middle of the row. Oreo hops on, sitting in the middle of the seat. Tristan gets in after me, glaring at Prince until the door closes in his face.
I buckle myself in as Oreo climbs on top of my lap. Tristan doesn’t leave him too much space. Then I help Tristan with his belt before I turn to the window. I watch Prince going back and forth, talking to the other fae for a long while before he comes to our car and takes the passenger seat. The driver follows him in and we leave. This is the sort of weird procession I would have expected from that Light Mage, but me? This isn't my style, and it makes no sense.
“Do we really need this bunch of people?” I ask Prince once the silence inside the car grows uncomfortable.
He shoots me a glance through the rearview mirror. “Of course. Opening the Rift barrier is only the beginning. The real battle starts once we’re inside.”
I swallow hard. Tristan slides his fingers through mine, holding tight. I shoot him a grateful glance. I hope he knows how much his presence means to me. Whatever is happening from here on, if it wasn't for him, I would be completely alone. Even if Prince taught me some and kept me fed and gave me a room, he's still a stranger and he still has his own agenda.
He tells me he wants to go home, but there's something missing in his story. When he says that, it's not like he misses his family or something. There's an underlying rage in his voice, and I can't help but believe he's got some revenge plans going on, and he wants to use me for them.
I can't let my guard down.
We drive on a beaten path, but not for long. Soon enough, there’s no path to follow. The car crunches stones and grass, and it shakes with every bump. I hold myself against solid Tristan, who doesn't move at all. The forest grows on the horizon, becoming a huge, looming thing. Not like a shadow, because I've never felt afraid in those, but like a predator, a gaping maw waiting to devour us.
The fog grows thicker the closer we get. The cars stop, creating a barrier before us. Prince looks over his shoulder at me, the tips of his horns scraping the ceiling. "Wait here." Both he and the driver leave.
I turn to Tristan, and he drapes an arm over my shoulders, pulling me closer. His eyes pin me to the spot, and with his free hand, he grips my fingers, bringing them to his chest. It's only then I notice I'm slightly shaking. A nervous laughter escapes my lips.
"What if I can't open the barrier?" I breathe at him, gaping at the dark woods in front. "Do you think Prince would hurt us?"
Tristan brushes his knuckles down my cheek. "He wouldn't dare."
He wouldn't hurt me, I think, not when he needs me to get what he wants. But what about Tristan? He could hurt Tristan, and hold his well-being in front of me like a snack. He could hurt Oreo. If he wanted to use them as leverage, I'd do anything to make sure they're alright.
"He won't dare," Tristan insists, then touches his lips to the back of my hand. "I'll keep you safe."
I smile at him, but it's forced. The door next to me opens and Prince offers a hand. "Come, pet. It's time."
Oreo bares his gleaming teeth and growl. Prince pulls his hand back, then glares at the dog. The two maintain the standoff for another couple of heartbeats. I brush a hand down Oreo’s neck, massaging the soft fur.
“It’s alright, Oreo,” I murmur to him, and he shoots me a glance before hopping off the car. Like he understood me.
And I don’t know if it’s because not even the dog likes Prince, or because I came to hate him calling me “pet”, but the longer I stand next to him, the more I want to leave. The secrets are too much. He treats me like a tool, like I don’t deserve to know what’s going on.
Prince offers a hand again. I take it, then I exit the car and let it go immediately. His skin is cold, but not the refreshing cold of Donatello's skin. It's like an icy cold, biting into me, making me wince. Robbing me of warmth.
His palm lands on the small of my back. He urges me on, past the fae and the cars, until there’s only the two of us.
And the sight ahead of me steals my breath away.
There’s a forest, yes, just like Tristan and I saw from the highest tower. The trees are tall like nothing I've ever seen. I have to crane my neck all the way back to see the top of the pines, or what I think are pines. The fog is too thick to discern them, and the line of woods stretches to both sides all the way to the horizon.
“Is this the Cursed Realm?” I breathe out, my voice too loud in the sudden quiet. Why can’t I hear birds? Animals rustling in the underbrush?
“No.” Prince’s breath tickles my hair, and I want to step away, create some distance between us. “This is the Twilight Realm, home to the Twilight Fae. Or Light Fae. Whatever you want to call them.” He points ahead to a spot of darkness in the thick fog. “That corridor will take us across the Twilight. After you open the Rift.” The hand on my back urges me another step forward, and he points to the ground. Amid the thick fog, I see great slashes on the ground. “The Rift is not only the barrier. The magic was so strong it broke the Earth, creating huge gaps between realms.”
His words make me shiver. Gaps between realms? I swallow the knot growing in my throat. “Between what realms?”
“Some say if you fall into one of these pits, you end up in the Underworld.” And he turns away, his focus shifting to his fae.
The others separate around the area, waving their hands, calling for spells I don't understand. My heartbeat picks up as I wait, all of them glimpsing at me. I don't have enough time to study their faces. Are they looking at me with interest, with disgust? Do they hate Shadow Mages? Prince said they used to hunt them.
Us. They used to hunt my kind.
I don't know how I feel about that just yet. About not being human, or not entirely human. Chewing on my lower lip, I turn to the woods. To the dark spot in the fog, a place that looks like… A corridor. A path between the trees.