the mist, they planned to go with me. I put on as much speed as I could, knowing I was slowing them down. Maybe I needed to take up running regularly, because I was in no shape for this.
We emerged into the festival clearing with the gray mist on our heels.
The clearing was empty, no trace of the throngs of fae who had been there less than an hour earlier. I didn’t waste time looking around but ran right for the hawthorns and the door out. My chest burned, my throat was raw, and my head was pounding from the running. I tried not to think about what I was carrying, but how do you carry severed heads and not think about that? I could feel them bumping into my aching legs as I pushed for more speed. I just wanted to go home. To not have severed body parts be something I had to entertain thoughts about.
Every part of me trembled. My body throbbed, begging me to stop and at least catch my breath. I was almost to the hawthorns. I pushed harder, driving myself under the overhanging branches. Into the door.
“Alex. Where—” Whatever Falin wanted to ask me cut off as I dove into the magical doorway. His hand landed on my arm just before the colors of the world swirled.
* * *
• • •
I emerged from the door on a grassy hillside. A warm wind blew through the grass, and rows of moonflowers created a glowing path starting at the door and winding lazily down the hill.
Falin, with his hand on my arm, emerged directly after me. Dugan, his fingers clutching the back of Falin’s shirt, followed him out. Doors in Faerie were odd. The revelry door, because it opened to absolutely everywhere, was even stranger than most. It was supposed to put fae back where they belonged, sending each to their own court or territory. I was independent. Falin was winter. Dugan was shadow. We hadn’t discussed where we were going—we’d been in too much of a panicked hurry. So had we not been touching, we likely would have all ended up in different places.
I should have ended up outside the Eternal Bloom. That was the revelry door for independents in Nekros. Maybe I could have ended up in winter. But I’d been thinking about home.
So the door took me home.
I hadn’t even known it could do that.
I dropped to my knees in the grass, releasing the heads as I fell. They rolled several feet in opposite directions. Even if they’d been murderers, dead bodies deserved more respect, but I couldn’t take one more step.
I doubled over, dragging in air. I couldn’t get enough. My body was shaking. My lungs burned. My throat ached.
I was breathing too fast. I knew that. It wouldn’t help anything if I hyperventilated. I tried to hold the air I sucked in. Couldn’t. It burst back and I scrambled for more, not getting enough.
“Alex?” Falin let the body he was carrying slide to the ground before moving closer to me. “Breathe, Alex.”
I was trying.
Damn it, I was going to pass out at this rate. The world grew fuzzy. It was more than just panic and adrenaline—though I sure as hell had more than enough of both buzzing through my body. I physically couldn’t get enough air.
“Get this”—gasp—“damn”—gasp—“corset off me!”
Falin didn’t ask any questions. His dagger materialized in his hand and he cut the laces. The thick, boned material sprang apart, and I sucked in a deep breath. My diaphragm expanded for the first time in over twenty-four hours and I swear I could feel my ribs moving back where they belonged. I sucked in another deep breath. Held it. Did it again. Released and drew in more air. Deeper. Slower.
Ever so slowly, the world began to firm up again, and my body stopped shaking. I focused on my breathing until it was under my control—not calm exactly, but better.
I pushed back from my knees to sit on the hillside on my butt. Jurin’s head had rolled directly in front of me only a few feet away. His eyes were open, as if he were staring. I shuddered, ripping my gaze away, and looking up, toward the sky.
Falin had stayed close by, concern written across his face. Now that I was breathing right, he sat back as well. He was shoulder to shoulder with me, his hands behind him, bracing some of his weight.
I leaned into him, and he wrapped an arm