“Janus, may I have a word with you?” There’s something I need to say to the Day King in light of all I know.

He gives me a peculiar look. “Of course,” he says.

Behind him, Des slides his hands into his pockets and meanders over to a nearby guard, striking up a conversation.

I pull the Day King off to the side. “I owe you an apology,” I say to Janus.

Janus looks me over, his eyes a little wary.

He’s afraid of us, my siren whispers, as he should be.

“Actually,” I amend, “I owe you several.” I take a breath. “I’m sorry for acting like a fool yesterday. You and Desmond were just trying to do what was best for your kingdoms; I’m sure my thoughts on literally everything that crossed my mind were exasperating to hear.

“I’m sorry for glamouring you. I don’t know how much Des has told you about sirens”—probably nothing since Des’s least favorite hobby is sharing—“but … sirens enjoy violence and sex; I can’t glamour someone without that aspect of my nature surfacing to some degree. I’m not nice when I use my power; I’m sorry you had to experience it yourself.”

And now for the grand finale of apologies.

“Lastly, I’m sorry I blamed you for kidnapping me. I was … mistaken. I didn’t understand that at the time, but I do now.”

Janus gives me what might be his first genuine smile. It’s unfair for anyone to be as pretty as he is, with his golden hair and bright blue eyes. He’s the sun come to life—blinding in his beauty.

“I appreciate the apologies, Callypso. Despite what you may think, your commentary yesterday lightened a very solemn talk, and I am thankful for that. As for the glamour, if I remember correctly, I was the one who insisted you show me your abilities.

“I will admit, enchanters give me pause; power like that is dangerous in the wrong hands. I do, however, have reason to believe that you are the right sort of person to wield such magic, regardless of your base nature.”

“As for the kidnapping, I cannot imagine enduring such a trial. Of course you are entitled to being confused and mistrustful. I don’t know who or what you saw, but I do believe you.”

He places a hand on my shoulder, his eyes intense. The room darkens a touch, but Janus pretends not to notice.

“Your mate and I already have a strong alliance between our kingdoms,” he says, his blue eyes burning bright, “but we’ve never had a friendship to strengthen that unity. Perhaps, starting today, that can change.”

His fingers press into my shoulder. “I personally vow that should the need ever arise, I will lend you my sword and my assistance.”

It’s not until Des and I are back in the Kingdom of Night that I’m truly able to breathe again.

The moment we step off the ley line and the cool evening greets us, I feel myself relax.

“God, I missed this place.”

“Getting sentimental, are we?” Des says, tying his hair back into an itsy bitsy bun. I try not to stare at the action, but his black sleeves bunch around his biceps, and the whole thing looks really, really good.

I lift a shoulder. “This place is growing on me,” I say in all honesty.

It didn’t begin that way. Originally, I wanted nothing to do with the Otherworld. But then I got kidnapped and grew wings, and going back to earth just wasn’t an option.

And now … well, let’s just say the Otherworld has its perks.

The Bargainer’s eyes shine in that way they do when I say something that moves him.

“You know, you’re really cute when you go soft on me,” I say.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, taking my hand and dragging me over to him. His eyes drop to my lips. “But you know what we should talk about? The fact that you got a king to swear his fealty to you.”

I guffaw. “I apologized to him, that’s all.”

“And in return he pledged you his loyalty—” Des stops speaking when he catches sight of a guard hustling over. He watches the man, face impassive.

“Your Majesty,” the soldier says when he gets to us, nodding first to Des, then to me, “The sleeping soldiers, they’ve been talking nonstop since this morning.”

Des’s features harden. “About what?”

The guard’s eyes slide to me. “Your mate.”

When Des and I enter the royal dungeon, the noise is nearly deafening. Dozens and dozens of voices are talking at once.

“I want to speak with Callypso Lillis … I want to speak with Callypso Lillis …”

“… speak with Callypso Lillis … I want to speak …”

“Callypso Lillis.”

The door slams shut behind us, and like a spell being broken, the voices quiet. In the silence that follows, my skin pricks.

I begin to walk, Des at my heels. You could hear a pin drop in this place, it’s so quiet.

As soon as we reach the first cells, I catch sight of the sleeping soldiers. They all stand at attention, their bodies rigid. Only their eyes move, following me as I pass by.

That malignant magic tinges the air. I can smell the evil that's settled into these soldiers. It’s still taking up residence in them like a parasite.

“Who wanted to speak with me?” I call out.

From several cells down, a low voice says, “You know who.”

A chill slides down my spine. There’s only one person who’s poisoned this lot.

The already dark dungeon block darkens further with the Bargainer’s displeasure.

“This guy’s got some brass balls,” he mutters under his breath.

I step up to the cell the voice came from. Inside there are a dozen soldiers, all of them male. Their bodies are still covered in the gore they woke in … well, that and whatever blood splattered onto them during the battle.

One of the sleeping soldiers steps forward. His skin is tawny, his eyes are hazel, and his plaited hair is dark brown.

He smiles at me. “Hello, enchantress.”

Chapter 18

My siren claws at me, sensing how spooked I am.

I step up to the bars, careful not to touch the iron. “What do you want?”

The man begins to pace the length of the cell, his gaze never leaving mine. He doesn’t answer, just continues to pace back and forth, back and forth.

I let out a breath. “Come on, Des, let’s go. The Thief is obviously too pussy to—”

The entire dungeon begins speaking as one:

Is life but to wake?

And death but to sleep?

I’d tell you, but then,

This secret I’ll keep.

I’m not real now,

Nor was I last night,

Or perhaps I’m wrong,

Who’s to say what’s right?

My blood runs cold.

In front of me, the soldier who first spoke to me now smiles. He tilts his head.

Are you having fun yet?

This is our little game,

You will lose soon enough,

Then you’ll be mine to tame.

My conversation with the Thief might have been a dream, but apparently it was real enough. That’s what this is, a reminder that a dream is never just a dream.

My skin begins to glow very softly; it’s so at odds with my heart, which is racing, racing …

I work my jaw.

No one scares us.

I step up to the cell and grab the iron bars, ignoring the pain as my skin begins to sizzle.

“I’ve got a rhyme for you, fucker,” I say, my voice filling with glamour. “Stop hiding behind your puppets, you stupid piece of trash. Oh, and take your lame riddles and shove them up your a—”