A strange world where much is reversed—the colors of the world, the creatures inhabiting it, the place the heart is.
Though it seems to beat the same way in Adar as it does in me.
Kings and Queens linked to the earth through magic, floating cities, cities on the backs of giant turtles, cities deep underground. That’s the world I am about to cross into.
Am I ready?
Not sure.
I wonder what sort of flowers they have in Faerie. If they will smell as sweetly as they do here. If they will look anything like the flowers I cared for in the pots on my window sill.
But it doesn’t really matter, not when I have Adar.
The horses are getting tired, but we can’t be far now, and Adar doesn’t stop anywhere to let them rest. Iason may have sent riders after us, and with the carriage, we are at a disadvantage. We can’t go very fast. We could ditch the carriage and continue on horseback but we’re close, so close.
A copse of trees appears at the horizon, and the ruins of an old temple gleam like bare bones farther ahead.
The horses snort as Adar snaps the reins. I’m not sure, but I think I see a moving cloud behind us, following us.
Riders.
Again I knock on the glass separating me from Adar. He opens it.
“We have company!” I shout to be heard over the noise of the wooden wheels on the uneven road.
“Don’t worry,” he says. “I’ll send mist to blind them.”
I gape at him and nod, turning to look behind. I keep forgetting he’s a magical being—a King of Faerie, his power beyond anything I can fathom. That he’s powerful, a powerful Fae King and not a merman trapped in a lake anymore.
As the mist rises behind us, we race toward the ruined temple—fallen marble pillars carved in the shape of baskets with thorns, decorated with the faded paintings of golden birds and red flowers. A white altar still stands at the top of a flight of steps.
The pond shimmers beyond the field of broken columns and walls, a perfect oval, large enough to fit the eastern wing of the palace. I wonder what was here before. What the pond was used for. What it was made for.
Loud frog song greets us as we stop, Adar pulling sharply on the reins, the horses whinnying, dust rising in a cloud.
By the time I unlatch the carriage door, he has climbed off and offers me his hand to help me down. He seems to be controlling his legs much better already and I smile at him as he pulls me right into his arms.
Gazing up into his shining eyes, his wide grin, makes me dizzy with desire and affection. His loose hair is a deeper blue in this human-like form, the roots almost black, the ends a bright azure that matches his gaze.
“Last chance to change your mind,” he says. “I know it’s a hard decision and you haven’t had time to think about it much. I wouldn’t presume that you should be the one to abandon your world for me.”
“But I would,” I whisper.
“It wouldn’t be fair,” says, his gaze dipping to my mouth. “That I should get to return and you’d have to leave here. You belong to your world, your family.”
“You need to get your kingdom back,” I say, looking at his mouth, too. “Fix this thing with your family. Heal your land. And I…” I sigh when he kisses me, his taste sending the world into a spin.
“You were saying?” he asks a moment later, when we manage to break apart.
“And I belong to no one but you. I choose to belong to you.”
But truth is, I never had a choice, I think as we stand there, surrounded by the rising mist and the cacophony of the frogs’ calls. His kindness won me over, his bravery ensnared me. He’s the only man I could ever bind myself to, and I hope he hears it in my voice, the certainty, the finality of it.
It seems he does because he nods, his eyes brightening more. “Then let me show you the way.”
Plunging into the frigid water feels familiar, and panic grips me—but his arm is tight around my waist, reassuring, so I close my eyes and let myself sink.
My chest burns but he turns my face to the side and kisses me, letting air into my lungs, sharing his breath with me. My eyes fly open. Darkness has swallowed us and we seem to be falling faster now, sinking like stones into a deep well.