making it personal, and there’s a reason your predecessor—for all of her hatred of Killian Drake—never forced Lord Rigel to assassinate Killian, even though it was well within her abilities.”
It still seems stupid to leave an assassin running around. I was so focused on this worry that when the Paragon abruptly stopped I almost ran the poor fae over.
“You’re going to find, Leila, that becoming Queen of the Night Court is a matter of organizing the largest threats to the smallest. Due to his loner nature and being a member of your Court, Lord Rigel is no longer a prime threat. You have much bigger threats to face,” he said.
“Like what?”
The Paragon mashed his thumbs into his eyes, then gestured for me to follow him.
At the center of the garden was a massive archway made of stone that had smoothed and turned a dirty black with age. Beautiful, looping metal work glided across the top of the stone. Half of it was a dark, onyx color, but there was a crescent moon shaped bit that was silver, so the archway gave the faintest impression of the night sky. A door stood in the center of the archway—dwarfed in comparison. It had the same beautiful metal work, but there was something unsubstantial about the door, and I couldn’t say for sure whether there was anything solid behind it, or if it was just magic.
“This is a doorway to the Night Court lands located in the fae realm,” the Paragon said. “There are several other ways in, but this is the easiest one to use, and will probably bother your stomach the least. Go ahead and open it.”
I squinted at the sketchy door. “Do I need to say any magic words?”
“Nah.” The Paragon casually swatted his hand at me. “You’re the Queen of the Night Court. The Realm of the Night Court is yours—it will recognize you.”
“You keep saying stuff like that, but I’m not sure I believe you.” I cautiously reached out to touch the door handle—which was surprisingly cool given the summer sun hanging in the sky. “I don’t feel any different. Even when the night mares marked me—or whatever it was—I felt something in the moment, but nothing has changed since then.”
“Well, this will be some proof for you, then, won’t it?” the Paragon smartly asked.
I pulled open the door, which creaked on hinges, and revealed an inky blackness that instantly cooled the air around us.
“Just remember to breathe,” the Paragon advised before he brashly stepped into the black.
It rippled like water, and he was gone.
I was a lot slower to follow him, taking a deep gulp of air before I stepped through the door.
It felt like I stood on air, and the universe itself streaked past me—millions of stars moving so quickly they were tiny flickers of light in the endless black of space. It was rattling—I couldn’t tell up from down, or even breathe.
The sensation lasted for only a second, but it left such a strong impression I staggered and almost fell on my face when I popped into the Realm of the Night Court.
My thoughts were slow and confused as my brain struggled to process the sudden darkness—because we’d left behind the warm afternoon sun, and instead the night sky—dark purple swirled with a black-blue—stretched high above us, softened by the twinkling of stars.
“Welcome to the Night Realm,” the Paragon said. “I’ve got some bad news.”
“What,” I started when I was finally able to rub more than a stray thought or two together, “could be worse than an assassin—oh.”
While I’d never been in the part of the fae realm that belonged to the Night Court, I’d been in other pieces before. As a half fae I had to register, and that process was done at the Curia Cloisters in Magiford, and verified in the slice of fae realm owned by the Midwest Regional Committee of Magic. I had to renew my registration occasionally, so I was familiar with the overly gorgeous, sweeping architectural style of the fae realm—remnants of the days back when the elves had reigned and the fae had allied with and served the elves.
As a rule, the fae realm was always beautiful—at least the parts that were warded and guarded against the toxic wastes that pressed in on the claimed lands. There were always stunning gardens, beautiful songbirds you’d never see on earth, little waterfalls—things like that.
The Realm of the Night Court was the opposite.
The door had spat us out on a stone