“Be careful, Weed.” He pockets the ring of keys. “I would not have you fall ill as well.”

I shrug. “It does not matter. I have no choice but to go in.”

“I wish you would let me accompany you.” Agitated, he stands between me and the gate. “There are many specimens in there, rare and deadly—you ought not be left alone with them.”

“No.” My voice is rough with impatience. “I must go alone, or not at all. I cannot explain.”

“As you wish.” He turns and lets the chain slip free of the lock. The padlock falls to the ground, but his hand lingers on the latch. “Once Jessamine is saved, perhaps you will be willing to tell me why.”

“Once Jessamine is saved,” I repeat dumbly. My heart pounds. The coven of sirens within calls my name, soft and sickly sweet—

Weed … Weed …

“Remember,” he warns. “Do not touch anything. If you feel ill, call for me at once. I will wait here for you at the entrance—”

Weed …

“I must go in now,” I say. “Step aside; I beg you.”

Luxton still bars my way. “You do love her, don’t you, Weed? My daughter’s life is in your hands! I must know your true heart.”

“Of course I love her.” My anger rises; I have no time to stand here talking. My Jessamine is dying and the beings that could save her summon me. I cannot keep them waiting any longer.

“Good luck to you, then.” Looking grim, Luxton pushes open the gate.

Hello? There you are—I knew there was someone here. Why are you hiding?

I have come to welcome you, but I did not wish to alarm you. I thought you might find it strange if I appeared too suddenly.

Everything is strange to me. I was well; then I became sick, and now I am—I do not know what I am. I can fly, though.

It is lovely to have wings. Mine are large and black, like a raven’s. Yours are gossamer; they catch the light quite beautifully.

We have wings? How wonderful! But who are you? And what is this misty realm? Is it heaven, or hell? Are we alive or dead?

So many questions! I will answer as best I can: I am alive, though not quite in the way you are used to. You are neither alive nor dead, but something in between. This misty realm is my home. Heaven and hell have no meaning to me; you will have to decide for yourself what place this more nearly resembles.

You still did not say who you are.

Among my own kind I am a prince.

A prince! I am embarrassed now; I have never met anyone of title but the Duke of Northumberland, and I was much too awkward and shy to speak to him directly.