Above me, a squawk rings out.

    My gaze jerks up, my insides twisting around pins and needles. A flock of monstrous birds circles me. Spikes protrude from their beaks, and their wings look like a jumbled mess of razor blades, the rest of their bodies made from bone without muscle, flesh or feather. Metal claws glint in the sunlight.

    Self-preservation screams, Run!

    I take off in a mad sprint. I’ve encountered these birds before, in Many Ends, when they attempted to eat me alive. How did they find me here? I need to hide. Where? My wild gaze darts through the forest stretched out below me. There’s no place to hide, and I—

    Crash into a wall of strength. Threat! I bow up, ready to fight for my life. I won’t go down easily.

    Fist balled, I throw a punch. The wall—is a boy, I realize. A boy my age. A boy I know. He catches my hand in his and chuckles.

    “Killian!” I throw my arms around him, stealing a hug. My skin heats rather than chills, and currents of pleasure ripple through me. The scent of peat smoke and heather envelopes me. “Come on. We can’t stay here. The birds. We have to—”

    He presses a finger against my lips, quieting me. He smiles a devastating smile—a rare smile—his siren-song eyes glittering with undiluted joy. I go still. He’s never looked at me like this, as if all his cares have been washed away. As if he is Light. My Light.

    “Forget the birds,” he says, his voice nothing but smoke and gravel. “Focus on me, lass.”

    Shivers course through me. Looking away from him is impossible. He is my life raft. A promise of better.

    Having died as an infant, he grew up in a Myriadian orphanage. Adopted as a toddler, returned a few years later. He’s endured rejection after rejection, trial after trial, hardship after hardship. Now scars mar his soul.

    How did I manage to sneak past his defenses?

    He cups my nape to draw me closer and presses his forehead to mine. “I’m lost without ye, Ten.”

    “You’ll never be lost.” My fingers wrap around his wrists, my heart crying, Never let go. “I’ll always find you.”

    Squawk, squawk.

    Yelping, I look up, reminded of our audience. The birds are closer now, claws spread and ready to—

    “Focus on me, lass.” Killian kisses me, his mouth covering mine.

    His taste tantalizes me, and I melt into him—

    The dream shifts, Killian vanishing. A scream of frustration bubbles in my throat. Noooo! I want to be with Killian. I want to experience his kiss, enjoy his sweetness and bask in the beauty of his strength.

    How do I return to him?

    I spin, searching for a way out of this...orchard? Zero! I’m standing in the orchard I passed on the way to the cathedral. Something terrible has happened here. The leaves are withered, the fruit rotten, worms slithering from holes.

    A crowd of people surrounds me, penning me in, everyone reaching for me, pulling at my clothing.

    “Why didn’t you help me?” someone cries.

    “You could have saved me,” another wails, “but you left me to my torment.”

    “You were supposed to sign my sister. You sent her to Myriad instead.”

    Bang, bang.

    I jerk upright. I’m panting, damp with sweat despite the cooling wafts of air from my mattress. The overhead light kicks on automatically, illuminating an unfamiliar bedroom. My bedroom. My new bedroom. I’m trembling, my blood molten.

    Those dreams...

    They can mean only one of two things: something or nothing. How long was I out?

    With a heavy exhalation, I fall onto my pillows. If I close my eyes, will I return to Killian? Will he kiss me? I hug the blanket to my chest.

    Bang, bang.

    Again I jerk upright. A picture of Meredith and Clay flashes over my bedroom wall; the two appear to be standing in the hallway outside the apartment. She’s wearing an adorable pink catsuit with bows and ruffles, her golden hair fastened in a ponytail, and he’s wearing solid black.

    “I know you’re in there,” she calls.

    Oh, yes. They are standing in my hallway.

    I throw my legs over the side of the bed and make my way through the apartment. As I walk, bulbs flip on to guide my path.

    With a yawn, I open the door. Meredith and Clay march inside.

    She looks me up and down and tsk-tsks. “You’ve been here two days and you haven’t changed out of your human clothes?”

    What? “Two days? Does time pass more quickly here?”

    “Time doesn’t change until you enter the Rest.” Clay nudges Meredith with his elbow. “Told you she’d still be sleeping.”

    “Well. You’re up now, aren’t you, my dear,” she says. “And what perfect timing. I arranged for someone to cover my shift so I could show you around the realm.”

    “Wait. Back up. Time passes differently in the Rest?” I bounce on my heels. “Faster or slower?” In Archer’s mind, how long has he been gone?

    “One day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years is like a day.”

    Ugh. Her answers are as cryptic as Levi’s.

    “I’m more than happy to wait while you shower and change.” Her nose wrinkles. “Please.”

    “Fine.” Eager to see the rest of Troika, I brush my teeth and hurry through a shower.

    “To save you the trouble of second-guessing yourself about what to wear, I placed an outfit on your bed,” Meredith calls. “And a little manna.”