“Jaenelle,” he said a bit desperately.

Jaenelle ignored him as she studied Surreal’s face and chest.

That was when Surreal realized that the Gray Jewel had slipped out from under her shirt when she bent over to examine her shoe. She looked at Daemon, silently asking what she should do.

As Daemon gently squeezed Jaenelle’s shoulder to get her attention, Jaenelle said, “Are you Surreal?” When Surreal didn’t answer, Jaenelle tipped her head back to look at Daemon. “Is she Surreal?”

Daemon’s face had a guarded, trapped look. He took a deep breath and released it, slowly. “Yes, she’s Surreal.”

Jaenelle clasped her hands in front of her and smiled happily at Surreal. “I have a message for you.”

Surreal blinked, totally at a loss. “A message?”

“Lady, just give her the message. We have to go,” Daemon said, trying to put some strength into his words.

Jaenelle frowned at him, obviously puzzled by his lack of courtesy, but she obeyed. “Titian sends her love.”

Surreal’s legs buckled at the same time Daemon grabbed her. “Is this your idea of a joke?” she whispered savagely, hiding her face against his chest.

“May the Darkness help me, Surreal, this is no joke.”

Surreal looked up at him. Fear, too, was something she’d never heard in his voice. She braced herself and stepped away from him. “Titian is dead,” she said tightly.

Jaenelle looked even more puzzled. “Yes, I know.”

“How do you know Titian?” Daemon asked quietly, but his voice vibrated with tension. He shivered, and Surreal knew it had nothing to do with the fresh little breeze that had sprung up.

“She’s Queen of the Harpies. She told me her daughter’s name is Surreal, and she told me what she looked like, and she told me her Jewel’s setting might look like the family crest. The Dea al Mon usually wear it in silver, but the gold looks right on you.” Jaenelle looked at them. She was still pleased that she’d been able to deliver the message, but their reactions made no sense.

Surreal wanted to run, wanted to escape, wanted to hold on to this child who didn’t think it strange to be a bridge between the living and the dead. She tried to say something, anything, but only an inarticulate sound came out, so she looked to Daemon for help and realized he wasn’t standing on solid ground either.

Finally he shook himself, slipped an arm around Jaenelle’s shoulders, and led her toward the private gardens.

“Wait,” Surreal called. She swayed but stayed on her feet. Tears filled her eyes, filled her voice. “If you should see Titian again, send my love in return.”

The smile she saw through the blur of tears was gentle and understanding. “I will, Surreal. I won’t forget.”

Then they were gone.

Surreal stumbled to a tree and wrapped her arms around it, tears streaming down her cheeks. Dea al Mon. The family name? The people Titian had come from? She didn’t know, but it was more than she’d ever had before. She felt torn apart inside, and yet, for the first time since she’d stumbled into that room and saw Titian lying dead, she didn’t feel alone.