Page 21 of Enthralled

How did I not see I’ve been feeding a monster all along?

By the time I return downstairs, Ilusine has already helped herself to an old mending basket and is in the process of stitching up her wound. She flinches and curses with every puncture of the needle but persists relentlessly. “You shouldn’t be doing that,” I say, setting aside the blanket and hastening toward her.

Ilusine flashes me a sharp look. “Do you want to try it, mortal?”

I do not. At sight of that puckered flesh and those ugly criss-crossed stitches, my stomach rebels. I’m only just in time to find a basin and heave into it, emptying whatever is left in my practically empty stomach. When I’m done, I kneel on the floor, faint and trembling. Ilusine casts me a sneer which conveys her thoughts better than words:Pathetic human.

I remain where I am until I’m certain my stomach has settled. Then I set to work making a small fire, for the room is like an ice shed. There is at least fuel to be had, which is a blessing; Oscar doesn’t usually keep the house stocked with basic necessities. I get a blaze going and, once my hands and cheeks are warmed, turn to Ilusine again just as she bites off the end of her thread with needle-sharp teeth. “What happened?” I ask softly.

She glances up at me, one brow raised.

I moisten my lips. “When you . . . you . . .”

“When I rescued your helpless hide?”

“When you broke the gate. That is what happened, isn’t it? You broke the gate between Aurelis and my home. The one Ivor has been using to travel to this world in secret. The one that kept him connected to Oscar and this timeline.”

Ilusine looks as though she doesn’t want to answer, as though deigning to explain to me is beneath her. In the end, however, she nods. “It takes tremendous power either to make or destroy a gate between worlds. Only those of royal lineage can manage it.” She frowns then. “I don’t know how Ivor created this portal between worlds. He was Lodírhal’s named heir, but that should not have been sufficient.”

“He is of royal blood,” I answer softly. “The blood of Illithorin.”

Ilusine’s eyes flash, surprise and revelation mingled in her gaze. I go on to explain to her the discoveries I made in Aurelis library, the truth of Ivor’s heritage. Ilusine listens intently and doesn’t interrupt once, not even to scoff. “That would explain it then,” she says at last when I am through. “Ivor must have used one of the established Between Gates and opened a portal to this point in time, disguising it by layering it on top of the portal already established for you as an Obligate.”

“So when my Obligation ended,” I answer softly, “and Castien destroyed the way between my world and his as he promised . . . Ivor’s portal remained.” Which means no more than seven weeks had passed in Aurelis since my departure, the same as my own world.

But then why was Castien so terribly aged? I frown, remembering the gray of his hair, the lines in his face and cheeks. He was still unbearably beautiful . . . but he was not the same man I had left behind seven weeks ago. My stomach knots with dread. The physical effects of our Fatebond are far more intense for Castien than for me, half-fae that he is. Has our separation caused this fading? Will he, like Lodírhal, simply wither away?

Ilusine rises, wincing with pain, and totters over to Mama’s old rocking chair. There she eases herself down, breathes out a sigh, and closes her eyes. She looks so different without her glamours, so drained and faded. “It took every last drop of inherent magic I possessed to bring the gate down,” she murmurs, more to herself than to me.

I cannot help staring at the once-glorious Princess of Solira. Though her words are still proud and her bearing regal, she looks like a ragged street urchin. The idea that she might never be restored is more terrible than I like to admit. “Why did you do it?” I ask softly. “Why did you do it? Why did you save me? I know you hate me.”

“Hate you?” Ilusine blinks and sits up a little straighter in the rocking chair. “I have never in my life felt so strong a feeling for any human. No, little pet, I certainly don’thateyou. But I do . . . I do love . . .”

Though she cannot say it, I hear the words loud and clear:I do love him.I can’t blame her for choking on them. She and Castien share history together, the nature of which I don’t know entirely. All I know for sure is they had much more time together than Castien and I had a chance to experience.

A knot of jealousy tightens in my gut. It’s worse than nausea. I scramble to my feet, leaving the warmth of the fire and stalking to the kitchen table. There to my surprise I discover Oscar’s contract fromThe Starlinpinned under a candlestick and a brass snail paperweight. Beside it lies a little box which, upon inspection, contains a gold fountain pen. The editors atStarlinreally were eager to make my brother their new star. Little did they know what their publication of his work would bring to pass in worlds beyond.

A sob thickens my throat. I turn and, gripping the table’s edge with both hands, face Ilusine again. “Do you think Castien is still alive?”

“Yes,” she replies at once.

“How can you know?”

“Because Estrilde could not take Lodírhal’s power when he died. That power went to his heir. His living heir.”

“Will Estrilde be able to take the throne of Aurelis without that power?”

A grim smile twists Ilusine’s thin lips. “It won’t be an easy task. But I wouldn’t put it past her. Unless the heir returns, who in Aurelis would stand against her? For many turns of the cycle now, she’s been maneuvering, drawing others into her confidence and clutches. A well-placed gift here, a well-timed bribe there, and she has the support of half the court. The other half fears her and the influence she wields. It wouldn’t take much to tip the balance in her favor. But,” she adds, pushing to her feet as the rocking chair tips wildly behind her. For a moment I fear she’ll tumble to the floor in a heap of bony limbs. Somehow she manages to draw herself upright, assuming a regal stance, despite her wounded shoulder. “But that won’t be a problem,” she finishes.

“Why not?”

“Because you’re going to fetch him back.”

“What? How?” I wave a hand, indicating the empty space in the room where, not long ago, a tumultuous opening into the void between worlds had churned. “The gate is broken.Bothgates. Even if I could find a way back into Eledria, it could land me absolutely anywhere, in any time. How am I to find him?”

“Yes. And all the gates to Vespre were broken by Lodírhal,” Ilusine muses, lifting her gaze to the rafters in consideration. “You’ll need powerful magic indeed to get you anywhere near where you want to go.”

“Can you work magic like that?”

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