I won't get far without stretching and take a few precious minutes to do a simple, ten-minute yoga routine, scowling and whimpering all the way. It's like getting fat. It feels so good doing it, but man does it hurt when you're trying to do things differently. Thank god I'm flexible or I'd have torn something last night.

I'd do it again every day for the rest of my life. My breath sticks in my throat. It's not just my core that aches for him; it's my heart, too. My stomach is twisting with fear and dread, the butterflies that have plagued me since we met are frenzied this time, terrified I met my true love, only for me never to see him again.

Spurred by such thoughts, I hurry to the door and open it, stopping in the doorway. It's light outside with the sun ball in the middle of the sky, visible through the center window in the bank of seven along the far wall.

The hallways, however, remain dark, cold, foggy.

Dangerous.

I shudder and creep back into the room. "Anyone wanna turn on the lights for a lowly battle-witch?" I call softly into the scary hall.

Torches spring to life to my right. I frown. It's not like I gave them directions on where to take me. Does that mean . . . what? I'm about to be dropped into a maze? Wandering blind? Trusting the curse the one about to kill everyone to guide me, since Atreyu made it clear he isn't in charge of the magic that brought me to him?

"I don't have a choice," I whisper. "I need to find him. Don't let it end like this, LF."

Nothing changes. I instinctively check my hand only to find my palm blank.

'Tis because no woman has ever touched my heart the way you have.

I groan as I recall the fiercely whispered words. I'm panicking for a different reason one tied to the idea I may have somehow lost him already. It's a nauseating thought, one that spurs me to blast full force into becoming the woman I need to be.

No doubt, no hesitation, no holding back. Fiction or reality this is my life, and I want him in it.

I sprint. "Take me to him!" I cry, not caring who or what is in charge of the maze at this point. I run through the hallways, one step behind the next torch that lights up. They lead me up and down stairs, through hallways with no doors and hallways with doors that reach the forty-foot ceilings, past windows I don't stop to look out of and on and on.

Too soon, it's difficult for me to breathe and even harder to lift my heavy legs.

I swear to god after this adventure, I'm taking up some cardio. This is ridiculous. I was never meant to be in a land with no elevators or cars.

Assuming there is an after. At this point, I don't need a happily-ever-after. I'll settle for the sun rising tomorrow, no matter what kind of mess I have to clean up, so long as he's alive.

Shit. I'm forced to slow, unable to breathe fast enough. Pausing in a hallway, I watch torches down the hall flare to life and rest my hand against the wall. I suck down deep breaths until I'm ready enough, and then take off again, chasing the torches, driven by the thought that the one man in any world who makes me want to live is in danger.

I don't make it nearly as far before stopping again to breathe. "Holy . . . Hell!" I gasp and rest my forehead against the cool stone. "How big . . . is this . . . place!" Pushing away, I stumble, catch myself, and go as fast as I can.

Down another stairwell, this one at least three stories tall. I always thought going down stairs was easier than up, but by the time I reach the landing at the bottom, my thighs hurt too badly for me to view any direction of stairs favorably.

It's then I hear it, a sound that pulls me out of my misery.

Metal-on-metal. Swords clashing.

Who the hell is fighting? I don't have the lung capacity to say the words aloud and hurry forward at a quick walk. My legs are rubber and heavy, a combination that renders them unsteady at best; I'm afraid to go any faster.

The sound grows louder. Torches light up a narrow stairwell of less than twenty steps, leading to what appears to be a balcony, like in a theatre. Clutching a wooden handrail, I make it up the stairs to see a single row of leather chairs surrounding a central banquet hall. The sword fight comes from below. From this angle, I can't see who's fighting. Before I can lean over the railing, someone takes my arm.

I jump and yank away, looking up into the Red Knight's face. "What're you doing here?" I whisper.

"My sister told me what happened. I came to reason with Shadow. I wandered the entire night in this forsaken place before stumbling upon this place." His gaze scours my features. "How did you find us?"

"I don't really know. The castle likes me," I reply. "Wait, who is us?" Peering around him, I spot two more forms in the shadows. "Oh. You brought them?"

"I brought your squire to assist me in negotiating with that brute. My sister's . . . bonded found me here."

My squire is on his feet, eyes wide and features hopeful. Westley, however, looks rough, like he's spent the night walking through the hold as well.

"Then who's down there?" I ask, starting towards the railing.

"Mayhap you should not watch," the Red Knight takes my arm.

I pull free and go to the railing, leaning over it.

Dancing atop rows of dusty tables are the Shadow Knight and the Desert Knight, both shirtless and sweating hard as they battle one another with swords and axes. The sight of Atreyu's body ensnares my gaze, and I lean farther, needing to catch a whiff of his intoxicating scent. My thoughts explode with images of our lovemaking from last night. And then it hits me.

I'm witnessing the final battle with Brown Sun Lake.

The one where the Shadow Knight is supposed to die.

"No, no, no!" Whirling, I dart for the stairs, ready to put a stop to this. We're doomed today anyway; I'm not going to watch him die.

"Wait!" the Red Knight calls.

Evading his attempt to grab me, I fly down the stairs and look around wildly for the torches to show me where to go.

All of them are lit. There's no way to know which direction is the one that'll lead me to the Shadow Knight.

"Halt!" the Red Knight snatches my arm hard and yanks me back to the stairwell. "You need listen to this, Naia."

I look up at my name, urgency, yearning, and fear threatening to tear me apart.

"This battle is necessary. 'Tis the only way we know to stop the curse."

Staring at him, I can't speak, my throat tight.

"The Desert Knight refused all reasoning," he continues more softly. "But he agreed to a duel. The victor claims triumph over all the realm. The Shadow Knight has never been bested in combat."

"Nor the Desert Knight," my squire says from the top of the stairs.

"Did I not warn you about speaking out?" the Red Knight snaps at him.

"Aye, m'lord." The squire's gaze is on me.

"When I wish you to impart your news, I will direct you to do so."

I can't muster the smile I want to at the abashed squire. Genuinely happy to see him alive and well, not shoved under a bench seat in the Red Knight's carriage, I'm also a blink away from exploding.

"Let me go," I say hoarsely.

"Do you not see?" the Red Knight asks, frowning. "When the Shadow Knight wins, he will have conquered all the realms. My brother-by-bonding will not take his father's place; he understands why we are here and I will swear allegiance to any man if it prevents the death of my realm."

A trickle of hope creeps through me, followed by doubt as I recall what he asked me for, a way back to my world. "I can't give you what you want."

"You will have a lifetime to find a way to do so."

I shake my head and test his grip. He's not letting me go. "You don't understand! The Shadow Knight dies in battle with the Desert Knight!"

"How do you know? Have you magic?"

"No. But . . ." How to explain I read it in a book before coming here? I gasp. "You know the person who sent me, the one you want to find?"

He nods.

"She declared it so before I came. It was in a message of sorts. At the final battle between the Shadow and Desert Knights, the Shadow Knight is mortally wounded."

The Red Knight's chiseled features are hard to read. There's concern in his gaze. "He must live to face the curse after defeating his enemies."

"I was supposed to do that," I say, voice breaking. I clear my throat. "Before the medallion was destroyed."

"Sire!" Westley calls softly from the top of the stairs. "Come quickly!"

"What? Is he hurt?" I demand.

"Nay, witch. The Shadow Knight's sword has broken."

I wrench away from the Red Knight and start running. Take me to him! I scream at the magic of the castle. Torches flicker and I trail them down a set of stairs and to a hallway wide enough for two buses to drive through. Two wide wooden doors lead into the banquet hall and I stop before them, pounding on one.

"Open!" I give a frustrated yell.

There's a creak and then one of them obeys, deliberately swinging open towards me. I don't wait for it and squeeze through the opening, running into the hall.

I see neither of them and pause to listen for the sounds of swords. It, too, is gone.

"Don't mess with me!" I cry at the castle, eyes blurring with tears. My heart is near the point of combustion.

A groan.

Uncertain what I heard, I hold my breath, willing my thoughts quiet, too.

It's coming from the other side of the hall.

Skirting the tables, I slow long enough at each break between rows to look between them.

And then I see them. Both men are on the ground, blood pooling around their bodies.

"Atreyu!" I gasp and dash towards him. Dropping to my knees, I don't notice the blood that splashes up and instead, shakily reach to take his pulse.

It's there but weak, shallow and slow.

"You can't leave me," I whisper, gaze roving over his sculpted lips to the hard planes of his face and his dark hair. His scent is thick in the air. Leaning over him, I can smell our lovemaking on his skin. A pang of pure agony hits me hard in the gut. "Oh, god. Please, no!" I can't lose him so soon after finding him!

A tiny voice tells me to stop the bleeding. I walk forward on my knees. He's unconscious and covered in blood, his muscular physique still.

Blood pumps from a huge gash in his side, from his thigh, from both shoulders, the side of his neck . . .

There's no stopping or replacing that much blood without a legit hospital, which this world doesn't have. I sit back, stricken by helplessness and horror, unable to believe the only man I've ever wanted is dying before me.

I'm becoming numb, my surroundings taking on a surreal feel. My ears buzz and I try to distance my feelings from here, try to convince myself it's not real.

But beyond a doubt, this world is real. Not only that, but it's mine just like the man dying before my eyes.

"Go to your father, boy," the Red Knight orders Westley. He pushes me over with little ceremony.

"Oh, father," Westley says, the raw note in his tone telling me his father is worse off.

"Alive or dead?" the Red Knight demands.

"M'lord," my squire interjects tentatively from a dozen feet away.

"Quiet, squire! Brown Sun, is he alive or dead?"

"Dead," is the whispered response.

My heart is too heavy to ache for the boy who just lost his father. I can only think of everything I've spent a lifetime missing, of a man who finds me and all my faults beautiful and whose heart is larger than his kingdom.

Atreyu will never see the blue sky or sit on the emerald hills overlooking the ocean. He'll never know true peace or see a thousand years of suffering end. I would give anything for him to know that joy, even if it meant I returned to my own world, never to experience his touch, kiss, skin, scent. My whole life has been treading water until Black Moon Draw and its Shadow Knight.

The fleeting thoughts pierce me through the heart and I double over, mental agony turning physical.

Get a hold of yourself! I shout internally. If I give up now, I'll definitely never save him. I need to keep trying, to bind his wounds and pray. Last night, he, too, had given up, only to find a reason to fight today. I can do no less, no matter what the personal cost or how much it hurts.

The Red Knight sits back on his heels. "I cannot help him, witch," he says softly. "Have you any magic at all?"

I shake my head, trembling too hard to speak.

"Boy, come!"

Westley stands slowly, eyes lingering on his father, his sorrow clear. He joins us and squats outside the reach of the puddle of blood.

"He lives. Mayhap we can still counter the curse." The Red Knight removes a dagger from his belt and places it on the torso of the Shadow Knight. "By the blood of my line and the rivers of my kingdom, I pledge my loyalty and fealty to the Shadow Knight of Black Moon Draw." With a bow of his head, he leans back, leaving the knife in place.

Westley's hands quake. He mirrors the movements of the Red Knight, his words barely audible.

"M'lord," the squire tries again.

The Shadow Knight breathing stops. "Oh, god!" I push past the Red Knight.

He grabs my arms. "You cannot help him, witch. Now we wait and see if we acted in enough time."

I rest my hands on Atreyu's chest, praying for a miracle. If ever there was a time to be a magical being or for LF to intervene, it's now.