“Yes,” Newt said, her smile chilling me as she took my hand and looked at it, noticing perhaps that I now had a metal pinkie ring instead of a wooden one. “You go balance that line. And in the meantime, Rachel’s debt to me grows with each passing second.”

I winced as I pulled my hand from hers, but what could I say? I did have some income here from the use of the tulpa I’d made for Dalliance.

Al was huffing and puffing, but I knew there was no deal we could get that was better than our continued survival.

“Al,” Newt said sharply before he could protest. “If your student dies, that debt reverts to you.”

Al glanced at Dali, and then back to her. “Looking forward to it,” he grumbled, his hand on my shoulder tightening.

Newt’s black gaze was on the wisp of my tattoo that showed, and I managed a nervous smile. “Thank you,” I said as she turned to leave, and she spun slowly back to us.

“Don’t thank me now, love. Save it till the morning after.”

In a hush of inrushing air, Newt vanished like a Cheshire cat. Feeling ill and scared, I turned to Al. “Can we go home?”

“No,” he said, simultaneously leading me down off the dais and waving to Dali as if everything was A-Okay, not Oh Shit. “But I agree we need to leave.”

I hopped from the raised stage, and Al’s hands left my wrist. I felt small as I looked at the stone bench Ku’Sox had been sitting on. “It’s him,” I said, and Al growled. “Ku’Sox has done something to the line. You know it, too. He’s got those kids, and this is all an elaborate con to destroy the ever-after and blame me for it.”

“If you can’t prove it, it doesn’t mean shit,” Al said, but as I balked, he sighed and rubbed his head. “Fine,” he grumbled as he took my arm as if to escort me. “The sun is still up, but let’s go look at your line.”

“How?” I said, knowing he couldn’t be in reality when the sun was above the horizon, but it was too late and the soft ache of the ley line had taken me.

Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

The red sun of the ever-after hurt my eyes, and I squinted, holding up a hand as I stood on dusty red soil made of pulverized rock and felt the gritty wind push at me. Al and I had come in on a slightly raised plateau. Before us snaked a dry riverbed. To our left was a slump of broken rock where Loveland Castle was in reality. Sprigs of waist-high yellow grass were scattered about, and a few stunted trees were all that was left of the woods that surrounded the castle in reality. Here in the ever-after, it was desolate.