Into the Dim (Into the Dim, #1)

Electric flicks of adrenaline sparked across the back of my tongue, making my teeth chatter. Bran squeezed tighter, and despite what had nearly happened, I began to feel safe. To feel alive, as if up until that second, I’d only been pretending to live.

After a long moment, while our breaths synced and Bran’s arms trembled with strain and something else, I became acutely aware of the long lines of his body pressed beneath mine.

“So,” I answered him, teeth still clacking as I rolled off and rose on jittery legs. “Yeah, the next time you save me from diving off a hundred-foot drop, I’ll remember to ask.”





I knew immediately I was in a lot of trouble. At the tavern, Collum and Phoebe were embroiled in a fierce argument. Phoebe whirled away from her brother and rushed to me, enveloping me in one of her spine-cracking hugs.

“Crap on a cracker, I’m glad to see you,” she whispered. “Collum’s pure furious you left.”

When I had extricated myself, I turned to face Collum. In the dusk of evening, only a small fire pit lit the empty tavern. It shadowed his features, though I could tell by his stance that he was livid.

“Well,” he asked in a deceptively calm voice, “if you don’t mind my asking, where in blazes did you go?”

“Bran took me to the coronation,” I said. “We—”

“I told you they’d be back, Coll,” Phoebe hurried to intervene. “See? Everything’s fine, so don’t get your breeches in a knot.”

Collum brushed his sister aside and moved across the three feet that separated us. Bran started forward, but Collum stopped him with a raised hand as he stared down at me.

“So,” he said in a deadly voice, “without a word, you just run off with some stranger?” His upper lip curled as his gaze darted to Bran. “This Timeslipper boy whose own mother wants to give you to Becket? What if it had been a trap?”

“It wasn’t—”

“Do you have no thought for your own safety? Or at least for the mission we’ve come to carry out?”

“Nothing happened,” I lied. “Look, Collum, I know we shouldn’t have gone. It was stupid, but Mom—”

“‘Stupid’ doesn’t begin to cover it,” he roared. “You are my responsibility. I swore an oath to Lu to keep the both of you safe, and I plan on keeping that promise.”

Bran grunted at that, but I ignored him as Collum raged. “I cannot believe you’d take a chance like that. Not when we’re going after Sarah tonight.”

“Oh, you have a lot of room to talk,” I shouted back. “You’re a hypocrite, going all superhero, trying to steal that freaking dagger. Talk about stupid?” I was shaking, all geared up to say a whole lot more. But the words dried in my throat when I saw anguish pinch the skin between his earnest hazel eyes.

“You’re right,” he said, nodding. “Aye. I betrayed this mission. Lost my wits when I learned the Nonius might be near. It’s just that I—I’ve wanted to find it for so long.” Collum dropped onto a three-legged stool, head in his hands as he mumbled. “But look what happened. I failed, and endangered everyone in the process. What do you think would happen to Sarah . . . to Lu . . . if I lost the two of you?”

My cheeks burned as shame wormed through me. After the stunt Collum pulled, how could I have been so selfish? All that mattered was stealing Mom away from that monster, and getting us all home safe.

“I’m sorry, Collum,” I said, meaning it. “It won’t happen again. I swear.”

Standing, he raked his hands through his short hair. “As do I,” he said. “So let’s put all the nonsense behind us and focus on the mission, yeah?” He looked from me to Phoebe, and finally to Bran.

Bran gave a mock salute. “Aye, sir,” he said. “I’m always up for an adventure.”





Chapter 37


WE REACHED THE PALACE OF WESTMINSTER IN AN EARLY WINTER DUSK. Fat flakes lazed down to rest on our hair and shoulders as our horses’ hooves crunched and squeaked on the new crust. The moon peeked out intermittently from behind high, racing clouds, transforming the falling snow into a silver rain. From the lights and sounds coming from inside the enormous building, it appeared the place was already in full-out party mode.

After dropping our horses with the groomsmen, I shivered inside my thick cloak. Admittedly, the deep plum skirts and ash bodice of my gown were lovely, though the raw silk was little protection against the cold.

“You realize this is completely insane,” Bran whispered at my side. “Bringing him with us.”

I glanced back at my friends following close behind. The walnut juice we’d used to dye Collum’s blond hair and stain his freckled skin gave him an odd, monochromatic look. But if they were looking for him at all, on this night of celebration, it would be as a blond, not a brunet. The masks everyone wore also covered eyes and noses, leaving only the lower half of the face exposed.

Plus, who would imagine someone who’d tried to steal from the king would be idiotic enough to return to the scene of the crime?

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