“Don’t.” I reached for his knife, but he moved from my reach, stepping around me. “Don’t, West!” He blinked, as if only just remembering I was there and I took hold of his jacket, pulling him back.

I pushed into his chest until he moved back against the wall. “I’ll come with you!” I said over my shoulder. “Don’t touch him.”

West grabbed my arm, squeezing, but I slipped out of his reach.

The swords pointed at us lowered a little, and the man with a bloody nose gave a nod in West’s direction. “She wants both of you.”

I looked up to West, but he was as confused as I was. His green eyes were like glass in the dim light. Narrowed and focused.

The guard stepped back, waiting, and I pushed into the crowd with West close behind me. The room was silent as we followed the blue jackets to the open door where the woman had disappeared. A few seconds later they were closing behind us, and the distant sound of music started up again.

Lanterns washed the ceiling over us in light, illuminating more murals and carvings as our footsteps echoed in the corridor.

“What the hell is going on?” West growled behind me.

A set of huge wooden doors opened in the dark down the hall, where I could see the shape of Clove slipping into a lit room.

The guard stopped, motioning us forward before he went back the way we came, and West and I stood in the empty hall, staring at each other.

“Join us. Please,” a soft voice called from beyond the doors.

The sound of the gala bled away behind us as I let go of West’s hand and stepped inside. His shadow followed mine as he came to stand beside me, his eyes moving over everything in the room until they found Zola.

The guard shoved him forward and Zola stumbled, catching himself on the wall as the doors groaned shut behind us.

The woman in the violet gown stood beside a polished mahogany desk. Behind her, the wall was covered in gold-painted paper and the brush strokes curved and dipped, making a maze of ocean waves all the way up to the ceiling. Her frock looked like it was made of cream, rippling around her slight form until it pooled on the floor.

“I’m Holland.” She clasped her hands before her and the light caught the stones in her rings. She was looking at me.

West took a step closer to me as I stared at her, not sure what to say.

Holland’s eyes ran over my face in fascination. “You’re Fable,” she said softly.

“I am,” I answered.