It wasn't so bad, more like a good paper cut, though this one spanned her entire palm. Voices came at her, shouts in accented English. Shit, the Atal Warriors! Lily searched the woods but couldn't hear anything else, not even a footstep on a twig. The rift sat to her right in a long black ashy line. She made a break for it, knowing the Atal Warriors were close by.

Frantically, she pulled the other potion out of her bag. In her rush, the dagger dropped to the ground and she cursed. Another shout, this one much closer. She grasped the bottle and chugged the contents, no time to analyze the foul tasting liquid. Her hand felt around in the bag for the other note with the spell.

“Fuck!” Where was it?

Heart racing at frightening levels, every muscle in her body froze at the deadly words. “Stop or we will shoot.”

Lily stopped searching. The pounding of adrenaline, blood, and her heart sounded too loud to her own ears. She turned slowly, her hands held out in front of her. Her gut sank to the floor. Not just two warriors, but three. Fuck my luck.

The three spread out until they covered her from all angles. One held a black crossbow, notched with a sharp arrowhead pointing right between her eyes. She could practically feel the metal already digging into her skin.

“You need to leave here, succubus.”

“What?” she said confused. “How do you know I'm a succubus?” She eyed the dagger near her feet but knew there was no way she could somehow reach for it and take out all of these warriors like some kind of Hollywood ninja in a movie. She'd be lucky to bend down before that arrow pierced her skull. Besides, these men worked for her brother-in-law; she didn’t want to hurt them.

“We were warned you might show up.”

Her jaw dropped, then she choked on a laugh. “How? I didn't even know I was coming here until about ten minutes ago.”

“Our Commander ordered us not to let you go into the rift. He's ordered all of the warriors across the world's rift to keep an eye on you in case you decided to show up. He's worried about your welfare”

“Oh is he?” she said dryly. “And I suppose Telal Demuzi had nothing to do with this?”

The warrior with the crossbow shrugged, but didn't lower his weapon. She sagged in defeat, dropping to her knees and burying her face in her hands.

“This is so embarrassing.”

“We need you to stand and come towards us, Ms. Bellum,” the guard behind her said.

She sighed, shaking her head and opened her bag. The small white piece of paper winked at her from inside. She narrowed her eyes on it. You little bastard...

She'd already drunk the potion; she had little time before its effects wore off. Acting fast, she pulled out the spell and read the words in a rushed whisper. Her entire body clenched, waiting for the arrow to pierce her skull, to end her life, but it never came.

She had only a moment before the dizzying, rushing action began again. She looked up with wide eyes at the man holding the crossbow. He cursed then lowered the bow. Another guard charged for her, looking like he was ready to make a tackle, but then the forest spun and spun around her.

She felt a horrible sinking feeling in her gut, like everything inside her rushed up to her brain then back down to her toes. She slammed her eyes shut and waited for it all to end. She fell to the ground, the feeling much softer beneath her than the woods had been, and her eyes lazily blinking open. She didn't want to open her eyes. Not because some blaring sun scorched her irises, but because she suddenly felt so tired. Like she hadn't slept in days.

When she did open her eyes, she saw several dark shadows leaning on the ground at a sharp angle in front of her. She blinked then peered upwards.

She'd never been in the rift, had never known a demon besides Telal, but she knew she was looking at one. And she knew he was some kind of warrior or guard. He had dark red skin that reminded her of a fictionalized demon albeit minus horns and a tail. His eyes were blue, surprisingly, she'd have guessed they'd be yellow or something equally heinous. He growled something at her, his words garbled and very deep.

“What?” She cringed, her throat felt raw and her question came out hoarse. Probably from that nasty shit she'd drunk.

His dark black eyebrows pulled together. Even his hair was dark, but long; it hung down to his shoulders in thin braids that reminded her of dreadlocks.

“You trespass,” he said this time in English.

She had only a chance to look up at him with wide eyes, before he grabbed her by the shirt collar and lifted her bodily to meet him face to face, her feet dangling from the floor. In the background, she vaguely noticed the sky had a pinkish glow to it; the trees were white, pink, and red with vibrant colors; and far in the distance, a magnificent castle stood like a beacon of gothic excellence.

“I'm sorry.” It was stupid, but it was the only thing she could think to say.

He flipped her around then shoved her face into the ground. Strands of tall green grass and weeds stabbed at her eyes and nose, threatening to go up it. Before panic could set in, her wrists were grabbed in a hard grip and pulled behind her. She started struggling for real now.

“No!” he commanded. He tied some kind of thick rope around her wrists and she squeezed her eyes shut as true fear came over her.

Unknown land, unknown men, unknown people all led to some horrifying thoughts. He yanked her back up by the wrists and the muscles in her shoulders, arms and back pulled viciously, the muscles close to tearing. She cried out at the burning pain shooting through her.

“You come with me,” he said in that deep, accented voice so like Telal's.

She didn't really have a choice as he started walking her backwards. His steps were long but hers weren't, and she frantically walked backwards, trying to keep her arms from twisting in the binds.

“Where are you taking me?”

“To king for judgment, trespasser.”

Her eyes widened. The king as in Telal's father? Her gut clenched and she kept fumbling backwards to keep up. Shit, she'd really made a bad mistake.

CHAPTER 17

Telal approached the king's dais in long strides. His brother's appearance made him frown. What the fuck had happened to him? Gone was the auburn hair, the violet eyes, and golden skin and in its place was black hatred, without a soul.

The royal congregation stared openly as he climbed the stairs to the throne. His brother eyed him, cold and calculating. He looked across the dais and saw his mother sitting at a regal table with white linen draped across it. Her hand held a golden spoon poised in midair like she'd been about to sip from it when he entered. She'd changed too. She'd never been a maternal mother, his nurses had cared for him more than she did, but even now he could see her eyes were darker, more sinister. Others sat at the table too, wearing the clothes of wise men, Alrik's council. He didn't see his father though.

He should kneel before the king, but he didn't. He stopped in front of Alrik's throne, his soul burning to ask so many questions that have long gone unanswered.

“What's brought you here, brother Telal?”

“I need to talk to you.”

A dark eyebrow went up. “After all this time, you think you can come here and make demands of me.” His voice was quiet, hard.

Telal chose his words carefully. “I would just like to talk. I'm not trying to make any demands.”

Alrik scoffed, his lips pulling into a mean grin. He stood and Telal saw just how much he'd grown from the little boy he'd known. In his memory, even as he'd wondered what he'd grown up to look like, to be, he'd never have guessed this. They were about the same height, but aside from that there were no other similarities.