“Of course.” He shut the door, and they waited. At least a minute passed as Ursula drummed her fingers against her thighs, trying to force images of Emerazel out of her mind. With Zee’s soul missing, there hadn’t been time to think about her own fate yet. But how long could Kester keep the fire goddess in the dark about her failure tonight?

Kester shot her a sharp look. “Relax. You look like you’re on a suicide mission.”

“We are on suicide mission,” she snapped.

At last, the man reopened the door and beckoned them into a high-ceilinged hall, draped on one end with lush green curtains. The walls were bare, seemingly made of tree bark, and dimly lit with honeyed light. At first she thought the light came from candles, but when her eyes adjusted she saw miniature luminescent orbs hanging in the air above them.

The fae’s eyes matched his silver hair; she hadn’t once seen him blink. It was deeply unnerving. “Welcome to Oberon’s.” Halfheartedly, he held out a hand. “May I take your coat?”

Ursula pulled off her jacket and handed it over, but the fae simply yelled, “Mavelle!”

A raven-haired female in a transparent red gown hurried through the curtains, grabbing Ursula’s fur jacket before disappearing again.

I guess that’s the female submission thing. God, she was going to hate this place.

The male fae beckoned them toward the curtains. With a flick of his wrist, he pulled them aside, revealing an enormous pair of wooden doors, ornately carved with oak leaves. A large stag’s antler was affixed to each door as a sort of handle. The doors were inscribed with gold letters that seemed to twist and move like living creatures—just like the walls in the locked room she’d broken into.

Without a word, the fae grasped the antlers, pulling open the doors.

Ursula sucked in a breath, gaping at the enormous hall. They walked forward onto a small balcony, and she peered down at a stairwell that curved to a dance floor below. Fae danced and drank over a floor carpeted with wildflowers and grass.

Still, her eye was drawn upward. Great columns of wood, as thick and sturdy as the trunks of redwood trees, supported a ceiling so far above them it disappeared into darkness. Glowing orbs lit the hall, some as small as insects, others as large as horses, swirling and dancing in the air above their heads like sea creatures buffeted by an unseen tide.

“How does this place exist?” Ursula breathed.

Kester slipped a hand around her waist. “Magic,” he whispered.