caught at the thought of Raul. To see him once, just for a moment. To hear his voice and feel the warmth of his breath against her skin. His house would be quiet at this hour. Only a few servants were about, in case a customer wished for refreshment. She could steal through the empty corridors to the stairway leading up to Raul’s private quarters. No one would ever know.
With an effort, she checked those lovely thoughts. She must not go back, not until she found the jewels. The risk was too great. She could not even allow herself the luxury of these fantasies, not in Osterling and certainly not here in Anderswar, whose denizens could read her thoughts and desires.
She blew out a breath and felt an ache spread throughout her chest. Onward.
Onward meant a different thing in the physical world, the ordinary world. There, it meant a difference of distance or time. Here … Here it meant a difference of will. She willed herself to creep forward in halting inch-wise steps along the thin edge between worlds and the magical void. Her stomach heaved against her ribs as the sight of lands and spheres flickered into and out of view. There, a city with bloodred towers. Over there, a horizon of stark, straight lines, such as she had never seen before.
With her next step, the fog vanished. Overhead a band of stars streamed past—souls in flight to their next lives. Another step and the streaming stars vanished. A gout of fire burst from the mists at her feet. She leapt back …
… and stood alone in a brightly lit cave, the walls of which were covered with primitive figures. Lir and Toc. An ancient crone. A maiden and a mother. Others she could not identify. From other worlds or other times? The absence of lamps or candles she did not question, nor that the cave had no exit. This place was not like any other she had encountered. But then she knew from her previous visits that Anderswar delighted in trapping and tricking the unwary visitor with the unexpected.
She made a circuit of the room. The walls felt slick and damp. Smooth, except for patches where it looked as though the stone had melted into rivulets, only to freeze again. The air tasted sour with smoke and magic. Now what?
The light inside the cave flickered. A ghostly warmth brushed against her arm. Feathers. Stiff and likewise soft. Ilse flinched, smelled a rank animal odor, as the invisible presence circled her. Once. Twice. Nails clicked over the stone floor. Then she glimpsed a shadow against the far wall. The shadow darkened into a great hunched beast, with beak and wings and four thick legs ending in claws. A huge ruff of fur grew from its neck. The rest of its body was covered in a mad patchwork of feathers and more fur. As it stumped around to face her, she saw the creature’s sex, which hung stiffly between its hind legs. The sheath angled toward her like another threat.
You came back, it said.
Ilse drew a shaky breath. She had encountered this creature before, on her journeys in the spirit. Philosophers claimed Anderswar guarded its entrances with monsters and tricksters. Others argued the guardians were fabricated from the traveler’s own dreams and expectations.
The monster laughed, a rough, grating noise from deep within its throat. You remember me. Are you still afraid?
She recovered her voice. I’m always afraid of you.
Good. Then you aren’t as stupid as you look. It leaned toward her, its eyes glittering silver in the unnatural illumination. You want to find the jewels.
Of course it knew. There were no secrets in Anderswar.
Can you take me to them? she asked. Lir’s jewels, I mean. I know they are somewhere in Anderswar.
I can. For a price.
It spoke the truth—she sensed it. A giddy exhilaration filled her. This monster could lead her to Lir’s jewels, to wherever Leos Dzavek’s brother had concealed them centuries ago. Once she had them, she and Raul could end the threat of war between Veraene and Károví. They could end this miserable separation.
Show me, she said, and I will pay that price.
It regarded her for a long moment. There was no depth to those opaque eyes, which reminded her of a pair of old silver denier, the edges and impressions dulled by centuries.
Take hold of me, it said.
Ilse reached out and gripped the ruff at the creature’s neck. She stilled a shudder when it rose onto