Rosemary and Rue

I opened the door.

It swung open on hinges that might as well have been greased, despite the rust caking them. Evening was never a world-class showman as the purebloods go, but these were her lands, and they worked by her rules . . . at least for now. The spells she’d woven so carefully would fade away until the doorway into Goldengreen lost its moorings and the shed became just another abandoned storage spot. Faerie would lose another foothold in the mortal world—but not yet. For the moment, the path could still lead me out of one reality and into another. Closing my eyes, I released the knob, and stepped through.

The door slammed behind me, already out of reach as distance rippled and distorted. The air was hot and cold at the same time, hard to breathe. This wasn’t a smooth and well-crafted door like the entrance to Shadowed Hills; this was a hole ripped between worlds, existing in both and neither at the same time.

A single step took me to the path’s end, and the human world dropped away like a bad dream. I opened my eyes, taking a deep breath of cleaner, preindustrial air as I squinted down the dimly lit hall. It was never totally dark in Goldengreen, but this was closer than I’d ever seen it. Evening must have turned off the lights when she left, and since she hadn’t come back, they hadn’t been turned back on. That was exactly what I didn’t need. Goldengreen’s illusions were almost legendary. In the darkness, those illusions would be harder to avoid, and that could be bad for both my sanity and my health. Knowes need to be cared for, and Goldengreen had just lost its keeper, which meant I couldn’t expect it to be in a good mood. Some people say it’s silly to personify the hills; I say I’d rather overpersonify than be wrong. I figure they’re less likely to kill me if they’re flattered.

Holding my hands out in front of me, I started walking down the hall. My hip hit the edge of a low marble table after only a few steps, and something crashed to the floor. I winced. Well, that was one less vase to break the next time I came. I kept walking, and the sound of my footsteps abruptly broadened, announcing my arrival in the knowe’s central courtyard. I allowed myself a small smile. There would probably be a way to turn the lights on from here, and once I could see, I could start looking for the door that fit my key.

I took three steps into the open, and froze.

Someone was breathing behind me.

Dropping a hand to the knife at my belt, I squinted into the shadows. Whoever it was had better attack quick, or they were going to find out just what a bad week I’d been having. My friends were getting shot at, there were bits of Doppelganger mashed into my living room carpet, and my former boss and maybe-lover had been forced to barter with the Luidaeg to keep me breathing. I was not in the mood to screw around.

The breathing changed after about five minutes of stillness, suddenly accompanied by a new sound: footsteps. I stayed where I was, and was rewarded by a figure coming slowly clear through the darkness. Whoever it was, it was male, and not much taller than I was.

Grabbing the knife from my belt, I lunged. It was a calculated risk: I was guessing that if the man on the other end of my impromptu tackle had a gun, I would have already been dead. Anyone wanting to shoot me passed up a flawless target when they ignored my entrance. If he didn’t have a gun, the odds were shifted in my favor. He might still be better armed, but people expecting to maintain the element of surprise aren’t usually ready for you to fight back. I’ve always preferred being the jumper.