But Imraldera took his hand in both of hers and closed his fingers back around the two beads. “Keep them,” she said.
His eyes shone bright in the fire and starlight. With renewed strength, he caught Imraldera by the arm. “I must return,” he said. “I have found a way back to the Land. It’s not the Land of our time, but it is our home. And it is full of Faerie beasts who mean it harm. Beasts like Nidawi and her lion, and many worse!”
“I know,” said Imraldera. “I have seen it.”
“Then you know what our people face there. You know the work that must be done to protect them.” He tried to pull her closer, but she resisted. “Please, Starflower,” he said, “come back with me. Come back to our country and work with me to free our people once and for all. You saved them from the Wolf Lord; you saved them from the Dragonwitch. Can you leave them now to suffer under multiplied terrors?”
“I . . . have a duty,” she said, though her voice wavered uncertainly. “I am guardian of this Haven, and I must keep my watch on the gates assigned me.”
“So you’ll pursue these tasks given you by someone not of our kin? You will labor to protect people not your own and leave the Land to bleed out upon the stones of fey totems? What kind of master would ask this of you?”
Here, Imraldera rose and pulled her arm from Sun Eagle’s grasp, for he was weak still from loss of blood. “Starflower?” he said.
“My Lord is good and kind, and whatever task he sets before me is the task I will pursue,” said she, then hurried across the room. But she stopped at the door and looked back. “I will help you, Sun Eagle. I will see that you have safe passage back to the South Land.”
“And will you stay with me?” he asked.
She did not answer. Perhaps she did not know what answer to give. She stepped from the room, shut the door, and stood a moment in the hall. Candles in their sconces shone a warm glow around her, illuminating the orange fur of a big cat who sat a few paces down the passage, his back to her, grooming his white paws without a care in the world.
He looked around, blinking as though surprised. “Oh, so you emerge at last?” His tail flicked once across the floor. “Have a nice chat?”
“I am escorting Sun Eagle back to the South Land,” Imraldera said coldly before turning the other way down the hall, hastening from the cat and his questioning gaze. “Just as soon as he’s well enough.”
“Is that so?” Eanrin stepped up into his man’s form and hurried after, his long strides soon catching up. “And what of Nidawi the Everblooming?”
“If she wants him, she’ll have to kill me first.”
The bite of those words was enough to stop Eanrin in his tracks. He stood in the passage and watched Imraldera disappear into her library.
“Well, dragons eat our eyes,” he growled. “So that’s how it is, eh?”
5
DUST BECAME MUD when mixed with the blood seeping through the dressing and rough fabric on her shoulder. But Daylily passed through the jungle, led by the light of the Bronze, which gleamed like a beacon and warned away all those who watched her from tree and bush. She walked with a swiftness that belied her pain and the dizziness in her head, driven by a strength not her own.
Find him. Find him.
She came to the gorge and slid down, unable to see the dirt trail, careless of her safety. And when she reached the bottom she did not stop for rest but staggered into the Wood.
Night gave way at once. She stood in the shadows of the trees, but these shadows danced with dappling sunlight at her feet, and all was cast in green and gold around her. The Bronze, still bright, no longer seemed to glow in her hand. But it pulsed in a driving rhythm that matched the throb in her wound, and she walked as it led her.
A bird sang to her from nearby, and she recognized his song.
“Let it go. Let it go, Daylily!”
The throb in her head was too great for her to stop and listen, or to comprehend anything but the drive.
Find him. Find him.
Shadows quickened. From various reaches of the endless Between, they flowed, stalked, marched, and even danced. Then, before she realized what was happening, Daylily stood surrounded by her brethren, Advocates and Initiates alike.
They carried children in their arms, and more children stood behind them, heads bowed as though weighted by heavy chains.
Daylily felt the beat of her heart speed up to match the rhythmic heartbeats of her brethren. A furious pace that would have burst her open had she belonged to herself anymore. The Bronze in her hand surged with power, reaching out to the Bronze they wore.
The horned giantess, Kasa, stepped forward, her great hooves shaking the earth. She carried a newborn baby in one hand.
“Initiate,” she said. “Where is your Advocate?”