“Duly noted.”

“We could fly.”

“We could,” Des agrees, which is fairy speak for yeah, no. Since I don’t know where our destination precisely is, I’m stuck following his ass. On foot.

Boo.

I toe the woven walkway. “I still don’t understand this bridge,” I mutter.

I get having bridges when there are rivers and chasms that make walking impossible, but the forest floor looks perfectly fine to walk on. “I mean, if my feet touch the ground, is the earth going to rip apart and swallow me whole?”

“If it has any taste in women, then yes, that would definitely happen.”

“Des,” I say, trying not to laugh.

He vanishes, reappearing farther away than before.

“Where are you going? I thought you were supposed to be this amazing conversationalist,” I complain as I run my hands over the knotted vine railing.

He smirks at me from where he stands five million miles away.

“Or maybe,” I say, my skin beginning to glow, “I should just make you walk alongside me—or carry me the entire way.”

He raises an eyebrow, his glee obvious. “Is that an order?”

“It depends.”

Even with the distance between us, I see him smother a smile. “My, my, you’re awfully bossy for a woman who doesn’t want to be queen.”

“Walk with me, Des,” I say, my voice melodic.

Immediately, the Bargainer appears in front of me, his hands braced on the rope.

I begin to saunter forward, my body swaying. My scales ripple to life along my forearms, my claws sharpen.

Des begins to back up, his gaze never leaving mine. “So is this what we’re going to do? You glamour me until I submit to you?” His silver eyes gleam, his white hair hanging loose around his face. He looks like the kind of rouge I want to defile and be defiled by.

I catch his shirt before he can back up any more, my claws inadvertently shredding it in the process. I reel him in, pressing a kiss to his lips. “Yes,” I whisper against him.

With that, I release him, my skin gradually fading back to its normal color.

The two of us begin to walk, making our way across the suspended walkway.

I touch my lips, the taste of Des still sharp on my tongue. “Is this feeling between us ever going to go away?” I ask. “In three thousand years or whatever—”

“Cherub,” Des interrupts, “where are you getting your information from? Fairies don’t live that long.”

“—is this thing we’ve got between us one day going to fade?”

The King of Night stops to take my hand, cupping it between his own. Then he begins to back up, pulling me along with him. “There are certain things in life that fade with time,” he says, his gaze locked on mine. “What we have, Callie, isn’t one of those things. Our bond will only strengthen over the years.”

He pulls me along, the muted sunlight dappling across his skin. “I will always be here for you—when you turn thirty and when you turn three hundred.”

“Don’t forget three thousand,” I say.

“If you defy the odds and live until then, then so will I.” He gives my hand a squeeze, his face getting serious. “I will be with you on your best day and I will be with you on your worst day. I will be there to hold our children—”

I raise an eyebrow at that.

“We’re going to have many children,” he informs me.

“Oh are we now?”

“And I will be there for them all. I will be there when the last of your mortal friends draws their last breath. I will be there through it all, and I will tease you and infuriate you, and lavish you with whatever it is your heart desires because the only thing mine desires is you.”

I give him a shaky smile, trying not to show him just how deeply his words have moved me. “Yay,” I say.

Lamest response ever.

Only rather than cringing, Des laughs and steals a kiss from me. “And now I’ll walk by your side the rest of the way because I finally, finally goaded you into being naughty and using your glamour.”

That was him goading me?

He gives my knuckles a kiss, then releases my hand so he can walk in front of me. The two of us are silent for a ways after that.

At some point, I begin to hear the thud of footfalls—lots and lots of footfalls. In the distance, trees shake violently, and for a moment, I’m back in Mara’s oak forest, watching the trees writhe and split open.

The memory dissolves as the Day soldiers come into view, their golden armor glinting as they storm towards us.

Des steps in front of me, his wings flaring to life behind him. They stretch wide, the razor-sharp talons looking particularly menacing.

The Day soldiers close in on us, their swords brandished.

Jesus. Their motto might as well be: Slash first, ask questions later.

Des crosses his arms. “This is the welcome you give your kingdom’s last remaining ally?” He clicks his tongue. “Janus did inform you that he was expecting a visit from the Kingdom of Night?”

The soldiers’ weapons lower just a fraction, but they’re still eyeing the two of us—particularly me—with suspicion.

“Where is your retinue?” one of them demands.

“Recovering from battle,” Des says. “I thought it wise to not bring more soldiers to your doorstep, seeing as how … warmly your kingdom welcomed the last batch that visited.”

Even here I can catch whiffs of those blazing pyres.

The soldiers begrudgingly lower their weapons the rest of the way, and one begins to speak. “By decree of the King of Day, Lord of Passages, King of Order, Truth Teller, and Bringer of Light, Janus Soleil of the Isles of Light, you are now in this kingdom’s custody until such a time as His Majesty—”

“I don’t think so,” Des cuts in. “You’ll treat us as the royal guests we are, or we leave. It’s as simple as that.” His wings fold behind his back. “Now, you all don’t want to be responsible for derailing these talks, do you?”

When the soldier doesn’t respond, another muscles his way to the front.

“Please, Your Highness, we’re sorry for the misunderstanding. Our good king is eager to meet with you. This way please.”

And with that, we resume our trek.

It takes an annoyingly long time to get to the palace. I mean, the walk is scenic and all, the forest lush with life, the ground sprinkled with glittering pools and rippling creeks, and blah, blah, blah—lots of pretty shit. But it’s still a stupidly long walk, and now that Des and I have five billion guards hemming us in, our conversation is next to non-existent.

To be fair, I have been entertained. Des has spent most of the last hour plaiting one guard’s hair into at least fifty braids (he hasn’t yet noticed) and moving branches into another guard’s way.

“Mother fucking trees,” the fairy mutters under his breath. “I swear they’re moving in my way.”

“Lay off the spirits, Sythus,” another says.

Ahead of us the forest parts, and—

My God.

The palace rises like a golden mountain from the jungle. The Day King’s castle is brilliant, blinding gold. Just as staggering is the waterfall that cuts straight through it, plunging into a basin that’s hidden by scores of other buildings that cluster around the palace.

“Wow,” I breathe.