“They’re rebels!” she says, eyes going wide.

Shit. She knows more than I thought she did if she recognizes the jaedra tree etched into Kyol’s armor.

“I’m with them,” I hiss, shoving her forward.

“What?”

No time for explanations. The river is a good five feet below the bank we’re standing on. “Jump!”

But she’s still backpedaling. Aren grabs her, yells at Trev to open a gated-fissure, then he throws her over the edge. Her scream is cut off by a splash.

Either Lee doesn’t care whose side I’m on, or he’ll go wherever Paige does because he jumps into the river after her without protest.

Trev goes in next. I make a move to follow them, but I’m tackled to the ground, and not just by one person. There have to be at least three cops on top of me.

I slam my elbow back, try to raise my knee to one of their guts, but an officer punches me. Another one slams a baton into my ribs.

My breath whooshes out of my lungs. I manage to keep fighting, to get my arms between my chest and the man pressing his full weight against me. I shove with all my might.

And he flies off me.

I’d love to take credit for that, but Aren is there, knocking off a second cop. The third one still has me, though. I twist, throw my hip into him, and manage to get about half an inch away.

Flopping to my back, I bring my right knee up, prepared to ram my heel into his chin, but fae arms close around me. I’m wrestled away from the human. We roll toward the bank of the river, stop at the edge just long enough for the fae to press an anchor-stone into my palm.

I close my hand around it.

Meet the fae’s eyes.

“Hold on,” Kyol tells me.

I wrap my arms around his waist and tighten my grip on the stone as he rolls us one last time.

We go over the edge. I catch a brief glimpse of Paige splashing in the Thames beside the gated-fissure before Kyol and I fall into the slash of light. The In-Between steals my breath away, but the shock of the cold, empty nothingness is muted beneath another shock.

The British officers never once saw the fae because they’re invisible to normal humans. They’re invisible to normal humans, but Paige knew they were rebels.

Paige saw the emblem carved into Kyol’s jaedric armor.

Paige saw them.

Paige has the Sight.

SEVENTEEN

KYOL AND I roll into the Realm. Into Corrist. I hear a shout go up from the wall, an alarm being raised, but the fact that we’re both still breathing tells me we’ve fissured into a safe zone. Even if we hadn’t, Kyol is on top of me. His arms are braced on either side of my body, caging me beneath him. They’d have to kill him before having a chance of harming me.

Kyol doesn’t move immediately. Neither do I, mostly because the right side of my rib cage is killing me, but also because I can’t with him positioned above me. He stares down, and his silver eyes look bright framed by his dark hair. He’s looking into my eyes, which is totally understandable considering my face is right under his, but then—just for the briefest second—his gaze dips to my mouth.

Suddenly, I’m completely aware of our position, of the way the length of his body presses against mine. My right arm is around his waist. My left grips the tight muscles in his forearm and it’s as if my thoughts trigger my edarratae. Lightning licks its way into my palm, up my arm and shoulder, and I feel my face blush with heat. I break contact immediately, but Kyol still doesn’t move. He focuses on my eyes again, and doubt surges through me. Not doubt about Aren or the way I feel about him, but doubt about the way Kyol feels about me. I don’t know if he told me the truth when he said he was okay with our breakup.

A throat clears to my left. “I can take her now.”

Aren’s voice breaks through whatever’s holding Kyol frozen. He rises off me, acknowledges Aren with a nod, and steps back.

Aren crouches beside me. A frown creases his forehead as I slowly sit up. At first, I think he’s searching for a reaction, trying to pick up my feelings toward Kyol. I know it still bothers Aren, my ten-year pseudo-relationship with him. I haven’t been able to convince Aren that I would have left Kyol even if I didn’t have Aren. I left Kyol because I wasn’t myself when I was with him. I was careful with my thoughts, my words, and my actions. I tried to become someone I wasn’t all because I wanted to be worthy of him.

I don’t feel that way with Aren. If we work out, it will be because we work, not because we’re changing ourselves to meet the other’s expectations.

Aren doesn’t say anything about Kyol, though. Instead, he glances toward the silver wall, then asks, “Can you make it to the palace? I shouldn’t heal you out here.”

“Do I look that bad?” I ask as I look down at myself. “Oh.”

I’m still covered in the human girl’s blood. I don’t think any of the red stains on my clothing are mine. I have a few bumps and scrapes, bruises from being trampled at the club, and my cheek hurts from the remnant kneeing my face, but my worst injury is my ribs. One or two might be cracked. The officer landed a good blow with his baton there at the end.

“I’ve had worse injuries,” I tell Aren as I stuff the anchor-stone I’m still holding into my pocket. His gaze moves to the scar on the right side of my throat. That’s not what I was referring to—I don’t remember the cut hurting at all, actually—but it throbs now, and it’s difficult not to reach up to touch the raised skin. Aren put a sword to my neck three weeks ago. We were in Lyechaban, and I think that day might have been the last day we were enemies. He should have killed me then. The rebels were so close to losing the war, and Lena ordered him to cut my throat if I didn’t read Kyol’s shadows. Kyol had just captured Naito, and I was still stubbornly defending the king, but Aren couldn’t do it. He couldn’t slide his sword across my neck.

He swallows, and his silver eyes seem to darken with regret. They do that every time he looks at the scar. I’ve never actually told him that I forgive him for what he did. Maybe some part of me still holds it against him.

He offers his hand. As he’s helping me to my feet, a flash of something white in my peripheral vision catches my attention. It’s a chaos luster on Lee’s skin. He’s standing a few feet away. Water pools around his feet as he stares up at the wall of silver stretching into the sky. I can tell he’s never seen it before. His eyes are wide. He’s slightly off-balance. I’ve been in and out of the Realm enough to adjust quickly to the difference in the atmosphere. It has a lighter touch here, almost a buoyancy that can affect your equilibrium. It’s clear Lee isn’t accustomed to it. Has he been to the Realm at all before?

Has Paige? I have no idea where the remnants might have kept them and…

I look around. “Where’s Paige?”

A fissure rips through the air in answer. Trev rolls out of it with my friend, my friend who is not supposed to be able to see the fae. She’s soaking wet and pissed. Kyol and I fell through Trev’s fissure before we hit the water. I don’t envy Paige or Lee, going through the In-Between like that.

Trev tries to keep a hold on her, but she throws back an elbow, getting a lucky hit on his chin. She almost slips free then, but Trev grabs her ankle, keeping her from scrambling away. This time, he locks his arms around her like a straitjacket.