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“I’m not going anywhere,” I reply, with a scowl.
For some reason, that only makes him smile even more. Damn it, I’m failing miserably at this whole intimidation thing.
“I’m from the Kingdom of the Fall,” Phaedron begins. “In the Lands Below.”
The room suddenly feels cold. Of course, he’s from the Kingdom of the Fall. I knew it as soon as the portal opened in my room. My sister Ithronel was sent to that kingdom months ago, part of some crappy prisoner exchange that meant we got our worthless Prince Folwynn back from the Lands Below, while my sister was apparently gone forever.
But knowing something and hearing it are two different things. I knew Ithronel was sent to the Lands Below, and I don’t honestly expect she’ll ever come back. Before Prince Folwynn’s glorious return on the arm of the fierce warrior who then took my sister back with him, no one ever came back from the Lands Below.
I clear my throat to try to stop my racing thoughts.
“Is my sister in trouble?” I ask, trying to keep the tremble out of my voice.
The man frowns. Phaedron, I remind myself.
“Ithronel,” I continue. “You asked if I was Ithronel’s sister. Well, I am. That’s what this is about, right? Is this some sort of, uh, prisoner exchange? Am I the ransom?”
Phaedron manages to look like I’ve just slapped him across his beautiful illusion face.
“No,” he says, and the word sounds like a slamming door. “Ithronel is fine. That’s not at all what this is about.”
I huff, hopefully giving the impression that I trust him about as far as I could throw him. Which isn’t very far, given that he’s fully armed and freaking enormous. Phaedron watches me with a strange sort of expression, one that almost feels pitying. But why someone who’s been trapped in the Lands Below would ever pity someone in the Kingdom of the Summer is beyond me.
“We need your help,” Phaedron finally says. “We need a magician. Someone who can open another portal.”
“Clearly,” I snort. “I don’t know what kind of magicians you have down there, but that thing you opened was so unstable it could have killed us both. Actually, I’m surprised it didn’t kill you when you came through.”
Phaedron glances down at his hands. For a moment, he actually looks hurt. I try not to let myself imagine what would have happened if the portal had killed him, and if I’d ended up with a dead man from the Lands Below on the floor of my bedroom.
“Rensivar has my brother,” Phaedron says.
“What?”
The word comes out like an explosion, loud and incredulous. I slam my hand over my mouth. Phaedron looks up at me, those ice-blue eyes hard as stone. Without his cocky smile, he looks older and somehow sadder. I lower my hand slowly, trying to keep my voice low.
“Rensivar is a myth,” I whisper. “Even if Rensivar the Wicked did exist, which is not exactly well documented, he’s been dead for hundreds of years. The dragons of the Council of the Iron Mountains defeated him!”
Phaedron just stares at me. My pulse throbs in my temples.
“Someone built the barrier to trap the Kingdom of the Fall in the Lands Below, sure,” I continue, my words coming out in a harsh, scraping whisper, “but there’s no reason to believe it was a dragon. Dragons don’t even have that kind of magic! Rensivar is a story parents use to frighten their children into good behavior.”
“He has my brother,” Phaedron replies.
I throw my hands up in frustration. Typical, another man with gorgeous illusions who’s all smiles until you disagree with him. Stars, I’d like to make a knife out of his stupid illusions and hold it right to his throat.
“So, Rensivar the Wicked lives in the Lands Below now?” I say.
Phaedron shakes his head.
“No,” he replies. “I don’t know where Rensivar is.”
“Let me guess,” I snap. “You don’t know how Rensivar got to the Lands Below either, do you?”
“That part I do know,” Phaedron answers. His voice is a low growl, and for a moment his lips twist into something that is not at all a smile. “That’s why we need you.”
I huff again and lean forward, pulled into his lunacy despite myself.
“Some of the citizens of the Kingdom of the Fall,” Phaedron begins, speaking through gritted teeth like every word hurts, “were working with Rensivar. They’re probably still working with Rensivar. They were looking for someone with a certain type of magic. And that someone turned out to be Rowan, my brother.”
