“Agreed.” Bowen came up behind him and lay a strong hand on his shoulder. “Which means you need my help. I believe Clara can be of assistance as well. Her magic is growing by the day; magic we can use to our advantage. Dracha and Rivalin would have no way to prepare for something they don’t know exists. Which brings me back to my original question. What magic does Nellie possess? And would it be of help to us?”

  “To us?” Keane echoed as a light entered his heart. “I don’t know.” But for himself? He lifted his gaze into the darkness. Nellie may very well be the answer to everything.

  * * *

  Nellie might have been able to stave off Erian’s commands while they’d been in triage in that clearing, but once Sera made her landing on what was apparently her own private perch on the western spire, she lost any say over and sight of Keane. While six men followed Erian’s orders to get him to the healer, she found herself standing between Keane’s loyal second and his protective—what had Keane called Sera? A pharenta.

  “You are injured.” Erian’s gravely voice sounded oddly concerned as he gestured to Nellie’s hand.

  “It’s nothing.” She grabbed the cuff of her jacket and tugged it down over the still throbbing welt. “Elya has a pretty harsh grip.” Erian dipped his head, but not before she saw the flash of grief and pain in his eyes. “You know her.”

  “I did. A long time ago. Before she betrayed her family and people by choosing to follow Dracha.” His voice carried the weight of regret and betrayal. “Elya is my sister. My twin sister.”

  Nellie knew he reminded her of someone. She could see it now, especially in the eyes. But where she’d seen cool calculation and determination in Elya’s, she saw despair and loneliness in Erian’s. “I’m sorry.” What else could she say without prying deeper?

  “As am I. I will make certain Gaius attends to you as soon as he’s done with Keane.”

  “That’s fine.” Agreeing seemed to console him. She wasn’t sure why. She’d had worse burns pulling biscuits out of the oven. “Keane’s recovery is what’s important. He knew you’d find him, Erian. You and Sera.”

  She couldn’t help it; she reached back and, without needing to look, stroked a hand down the pharenta’s ivory smooth beak. The creature cooed under her touch.

  “You saved his life.” Erian inclined his head. “For that we are all in your debt.”

  “He saved mine first, so I’d say we’re all even.” Fairly certain the ice was broken, she stepped off the straw strewn perch and followed Erian down the circular stone staircase. She couldn’t help but feel an odd excitement walking the halls of buildings that may never have been seen by any others from her world. “How did I not see this place before?” Her stomach dropped as she looked down over the edge to the wooded ground below. “This has to be at least six stories high.” She should have spotted this miles before the clearing and certain-ly more than a few seconds before Sera had begun her descent. As Keane had guided the beast through the sky with a shaking hand holding Sera’s rein, he’d whispered something that sounded like odaria comraich. Next thing Nellie knew, she found herself staring at a grey stone structure straight out of a medieval fairy tale. “And for the record, this is a castle, not a Citadel.”

  Erian glanced over his shoulder, a silver eyebrow arched nearly to his hairline.

  “As Keane would tell you,” Erian said, “he is not royalty. This is a fortress of protection. We provide training for soldiers, plan strikes against our enemies and give shelter and food to those in need or unable to make the journey to Cosanta Baile.”

  “That’s the area where the other prisoners live, isn’t it?” Keane had pointed out the village from high in the air. “It’s designated a protected area for those exiled to this world.”

  “No one is above anyone else,” Erian continued. “Keane is our leader, the chosen one who is destined to defeat the darkness, but he would not place himself higher than a common man. Therefore, this place is a—”

  “Castle, technically. But I’ll give him and you this one.” She tugged the collar of her coat tight at her throat as she shivered against the cold. “Chilly up here.”

  Erian frowned. “I feel no cold.”

  “Because you scare away the weather?”

  Something told her Erian didn’t smile a lot.

  But so far she’d gotten two out of him. She supposed she’d have time for exploring the castle later. That’s what she told herself as Erian escorted her down multiple staircases and through countless corridors. She found herself being watched and followed by curious men, women, and children, who whispered behind their hands and smiled when she met their surprised gazes.

  She only got a passing glimpse of the great hall and its oversized hearth and fireplace that housed dancing purple and orange flames that radiated enough heat and light to ease the darkness and damp. Intricate tapestries hung suspended on the walls, dozens of flags displaying coats of arms that awakened the historian within her. Despite the coldness of the stone itself, the cas—Citadel felt surprisingly like a home.

  Clutching her jacket closed, she hurried to catch up to Erian who, after exiting the hall, turned left and led her to a carved wooden door twice his height.

  “These quarters are across from your sister’s and Bowen’s.” Erian took a step back to motion to the matching door behind them. “Clothing and food have been provided, as has a hot bath.”

  “Awesome.” Nellie bounced on her heels, unsure if she was more anxious about the bath or seeing her sister. At Erian’s blank stare, she clarified. “That means great. Thanks. When can I see Keane?”

  “You will be sent for when our healer is convinced he is out of danger and can receive visitors.” Erian’s voice held that air of superiority that suited him and irritated her.

  “Meaning I did what you needed me to do and now I’m supposed to stay out of the way like a good girl?”

  “Meaning, as you noted earlier, Keane is my priority.” Erian snapped his tall, lithe body to stiff attention. “If he sends me for you, I will follow his orders.”

  “Right. Gotcha.” Nellie was already feeling antsy about not being at Keane’s side. She straightened her arms and clenched her fists, giving herself a good mental shake. What was wrong with her? She wasn’t one to rely on a man, to feel incomplete without one, even one who sent her pulse to dancing like Keane. Holy hackles, she’d known the man less than a day. Yet she felt as if she’d known him all her life. That she didn’t feel quite right without him near unsettled her more than any of his kisses had.

  She focused her attention back on Erian. “Sorry to sound like a shrew. I’m sure—”

  “Nellie!”

  “Clara.” Nellie turned in time to be engulfed in her sister’s embrace. In that instant, all the terror, the worry, the frantic thoughts that had been spinning through her mind since she’d first fallen through that ridiculous book evaporated as she embraced Clara with a sobbing laugh. “That’s the last time I let you go into a bookstore by yourself.” Her tears fell onto the beautiful green brocade of the velvet gown Clara wore as Nellie stepped back to look at her. “Holy crap, you look like Maid Marian in Robin Hood.”

  “The Errol Flynn version I hope.” Clara’s gold-flecked green eyes, the same eyes Nellie possessed, sparkled against her porcelain skin and intricately braided glossy red hair. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Erian withdraw from the hallway and disappear down the corridor.

  “As if there’s any other.” Nellie gripped Clara’s shoulders so hard her fingers went numb. “I was scared you were gone forever.” The confession knitted her fractured heart. She didn’t realize how afraid she’d been about never seeing Clara or Amber again.

  “I know.” Clara rubbed her hands down Nellie’s wool clad arms in the comforting way she had while they’d been growing up. The action warmed Nellie faster than a gallon of cream laden hot chocolate. “I know, this is crazy. Insane. But…amazing, too. I have so much to tell you. Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up and we can talk.”

  * * *

  “Enough already!” Nellie smacked her sister’s hands away. “You corset me any tighter and I won’t be able to eat, let alone breathe.” It was as if they were six years old and playing dress up all over again. Clara always did have precise thoughts on what Nellie should wear, but as her sister turned her toward the mirror beside the metal tub Nellie had to admit, Clara knew what she was doing. “Oh. Wow.”

  The turquoise gown was cinched in all the right places and flowed lightly around her legs and bare feet like the softest silk. The neckline dipped lower than she liked, but not so low she had to worry about overexposure. Tiny gold rope enhanced every line of the dress, criss-crossing over her breasts and midsection before flowing into a floral-like pattern down the skirt. She scrunched her bare toes into the cool grey stone.

  Her curls had been tamed by some concoction Clara had been given back at Cosanta Baile by a woman named Miranda; a woman, who by Clara’s account, Nellie must meet. Nellie’s skin glowed even without a hint of makeup and the soap she’d used smelled of wildflowers and rain. “Wow,” she said again. “I look…pretty.”

  “You are pretty.” Clara squeezed her shoulders, standing behind her and gazing at the two of them with pride, happiness, and more than a little sadness. “All that’s missing is Amber.”

  “And maybe Scarlett O’Hara.” Nellie squirmed in the dress. “Seriously, sis, could you loosen that a little? Otherwise after I eat I’m going to look like an overstuffed pork casing.”

  “Fine.” Clara scrunched her mouth into that disproving expression of hers, but a few seconds later, Nellie could breathe again. “Better?”

  “Much. Thank you.” She discarded what was left of her old clothes and followed Clara to the table by the window that had been set up with what looked like a feast. The large space wasn’t cluttered by any means. One wall was completely taken up by a fireplace and hearth with a roaring fire reminiscent of the one she’d seen in the great hall. The lush four-poster bed was draped with blue and green fabrics dotted with explosions of embroidered color and stood in stark luxurious contrast to the simple wooden table and chairs that awaited them.

  The arched window gave her the perfect view of the forest that had been her constant companion since she’d arrived and immediately set her to wondering how Keane was doing.

  “I’m sure Keane’s fine,” Clara told her as she poured herself some wine into a plain silver goblet.

  “You read minds now?” Nellie grumbled as she took inventory of the odd food displayed before her. Nothing looked familiar, but her stomach growled in a reminder that she couldn’t be picky at this point. “Erian told me I’d be summoned when I could see him. He’s an odd one.” How could he not be, given who his sister was? It was on the tip of her tongue to ask Clara what she knew about him, about his history and background, but something told her it wasn’t common knowledge Elya was his twin.

  “Erian?” Clara shrugged. “Yeah. They’re all a bit odd. Like Celtic ninjas. They move like smoke. Be warned.” Her cheeks went bright pink. “Any one of them can pop up at inopportune times.”

  Nellie grinned and nibbled on the corner of a chunk of orange-veined cheese. She enjoyed the pungent, salty flavor and took a bigger bite. “Sounds like a story I need to hear. Maybe save it for when Amber gets here.”

  “That’s inevitable, isn’t it?” Nellie wasn’t certain Clara sounded relieved or concerned their sister re-mained behind in the real world.

  “Last I saw her she was stewing in the car with her coffee. But…yeah.” Nellie bit her lip. “I went into that store looking for you. When I don’t come out, Amber’s going to follow.”

  Clara’s strained smile reflected Nellie’s. “Well, you came through okay. Nothing we can do about Amber except sit and wait I suppose. Of all of us, however, I would have expected you’d have kept your clothes on. What happened to your shirt? And your tights?”

  Nellie face went hot. “I needed to bandage Keane’s wound.”

  “Uh-huh.” Clara chuckled. “That’s as good as an excuse as any.”

  Nellie looked at her sister. Really looked at her. “You seem settled. Happy.”

  “I am.” Clara’s eyes sparkled. “I wish I could explain it, I wish I could explain anything that’s happened, but as unbelievable as it all is, because of Bowen it all make sense. Whatever happens next, I know as long as I’m with him, everything will be okay.”

  “He’s it for you then?” Nellie’s insides tightened when Clara nodded.

  “When it’s right, you know. Doesn’t matter how much time has passed. A day, a month. A year.” Clara pushed a plate of odd looking fruit in Nellie’s direction. Nellie wrinkled her nose. “Time moves differently here. I’ve been here nearly a week.”

  “A week?” To Nellie’s mind, her sister had vanished only hours ago. “How long do you think it’s been since I got here?”

  “Judging by our time? Less than a day. You streaked across the sky just after Bowen and I arrived at the Citadel.”

  Nellie’s stomach twisted. “Lovely. A great big red ball of gas. Talk about a—”

  “I’m getting married.” Clara’s eyes went wide as if she’d shocked herself by the verbal blurt.

  Nellie sagged back in the high back wooden chair and gaped. “Married? You?” That was fast.

  Clara pulled her bare feet up to brace on the edge of her chair as she picked at the fruit and cheese. “From the second I saw him, bam!” She flicked out her fingers. Bright blue sparks fired from her fingertips. Nellie nearly dropped out of her chair. Clara gasped, then laughed as she looked at her hand. “Or maybe I should have said pow! Bowen told me my powers would grow.” She flicked her fingers again—only this time she turned her hand over, palm up, and watched as flames danced on her skin. “Blasted Bowen right off his feet the first time it manifested. I’m still getting the hang of it.” She rotated her hand this way and that, controlling the flame as it rolled up and down her arm. “We almost died coming here. Whatever happens next, I don’t want to end this life without having been married to him.”

  “Okay.” For the second time, something akin to envy tugged in Nellie’s stomach. “Does it hurt?”

  “The fire? Not at all. It’s comforting actually. What about you?” Clara closed her hand. The flames vanished. She turned amused eyes on Nellie who could only shake her head. “Anything magical going on with you?”

  “No.” Why would it? Nellie had never been anything but ordinary. “How?”

  “How did we get magic? Mom apparently. Get this. She’s the only living daughter of the goddess Alastrine, Warden of All. Apparently, whoever wrote those stories didn’t give her a name, but it all makes an odd kind of sense. Mom left the book for us, after all.”

  Left them for us or for Clara? Nellie hadn’t felt a flicker of anything other than her growing feelings for Keane. She didn’t have fire or power or anything of value they could use in Keane’s upcoming battle with Dracha.

  “Guess we have something to talk about with her if we ever get home,” Nellie mumbled. Her appetite had vanished, but that had never stopped her from eating before. “Since I don’t feel like dragging my butt out of this chair, can you float some of that wine over here for me?” She lifted her goblet, her humor returning when Clara stood and retrieved the pitcher the traditional way. “Now what were we talking about before your hand exploded?”

  “Bowen.” Clara’s face softened in a gooey smile. “I was trying to explain something I can’t. It just worked with him. We fit. Like we’ve known each other forever.” Clara inclined her head. “Something tells me you know a little something about that.”

  Could she? What she had with Keane? Was it real? Was any of this real? “How is this even possible?” Nellie whispered, her mind filling with images of Keane, of remembering the feel, the taste of his lips, the gentle protectiveness of his hold. She scrubbed a hand against the center of her chest. “It actually aches not to be with him.”

  “Then maybe you shouldn’t be.” But Clara’s eyes darkened as uncertainty hovered. “I don’t know how long any of this is going to last. If somehow Dracha is going to do something that destroys this…world.”

  “Don’t you mean book?” Nellie corrected with an arched brow. “That’s what we’re trapped in, right?”

  “No.” Clara shook her head. “No, I’ve been giving this a lot of thought. Lots of down time around this place, without Netflix. I think the book that brought me here was a portal. One mom might have created when she left the stories for us. A portal Bowen is convinced Dracha can use to carry out whatever plan he has. It’s why he freaked out when we saw Rivalin retrieve it.”

  “That would be warrior number three.” She started eating again—by impulse—and realized she was still hungry after all. Or maybe Nellie was just desperate for a distraction. “Wondered where he might be.”

  “Well, until a few days ago, everyone thought he was dead. He’s not. He’s working for Dracha.” Clara flinched. “Which means I have no doubt Bowen has some ridiculous plan to do something about it.”

  “If he’s anything like Keane, I’d lay odds you’re right.” Nellie bit into piece of meat resembling a turkey leg. “If your book was a portal, it wasn’t the only one. How do you think I got here?” She ignored the plate of fruit Clara set in front of her when she caught sight of the pastries. “Although I haven’t seen the book since I got here. That lake monster probably ate it.” She paused, then added, “Elya tried to hitch a ride, by the way.”