You should stop lying to yourself, whispered the darkness, as I fell into the void.

IT was night where I landed, tumbling into gra.s.s beneath a sky filled with stars and a low-hanging crescent moon. The air was cold on my face, and I took a deep breath, bracing myself for the boys to wake up.

Only, they didn't.

Long seconds pa.s.sed. A full minute. I counted the time in my head, waiting and waiting, growing sick with alarm. The boys tugged on my skin-an uncomfortable, intensifying pressure-but that was all.

I wanted to puke. I looked straight ahead, dimly taking in the flat gra.s.sland that stretched to the horizon. To my right, far away, I saw the p.r.i.c.k and flicker of firelight. Just one small fire, not much bigger than a star.

Jack, I thought.

And still, Zee and the boys fought to wake. Except now, it hurt.

Rip off the Band-Aid fast, I'd always said. Slow was worse. Slow was horrific, like being chewed through a wood chipper, inch by inch. Each slice, every break, drawn out to its full potential for agony. I was, literally, being pulled in all directions at once-torn apart in the tiniest of fragments. I gritted my teeth, didn't make a sound. Screaming would have hurt, too. Screaming would have been worse.

You are not alone, whispered the darkness.

As if you care, I spat, with venom and fear and loneliness roaring through me. I'm just the flesh, the flesh you want, and when you get me, I'll be nothing. So shut the f.u.c.k up with the pleasantries.

I heard another whisper, but no words-I couldn't hear anything past my screaming skin-but what I felt, what cut through the agony, was a soft bloom inside my chest, like an explosion of ink released by a squid in the dark sea. A cloud filled with tendrils, tendrils filled with night, the night soft and sweet.

My relief was obscene. I floated, coc.o.o.ned from the pain. I could feel it, but all that agony was outside myself, a heartbeat away-and that heartbeat was enough.

You are not just flesh, whispered the darkness, all around me. You are not only the dream.

s.h.i.t, I thought, weary. What am I, then?

The spell broke. I fell through darkness, back into my skin-just as the boys finally ripped free. It was a straining burst, a pop that exploded every nerve ending with such brilliant, devastating agony, I felt like I had swallowed a lightning bolt.

If this was what giving birth was like, I was totally f.u.c.ked.

I lay on my side, limbs twitching-drooling into the gra.s.s. I heard my name, but that was s.h.i.t. I could see the boys, little lumps in the shadows, but couldn't move to touch them. No strength. All pain. As if acid, bleach, and fire were being brushed tenderly across my skin.

Halfhearted hisses and snarls filled the night air. I rolled onto my back, staring at the stars. Even that exhausted me. My hands fell against my stomach and stayed there.

Baby, I thought. Daughter. Girl. Woman. Me.

Not me. Better than me. Better life, better heart. And even if that wasn't the case, then at the very least-a chance. A life of possibilities, all for her. Something more than terror and death, and betrayal.

I turned my head. Zee was sitting up, and so were Raw and Aaz. All three swaying, digging claws into their heads. Dek and Mal barely had the strength to drape themselves over my neck; I fumbled for them, dragging their bodies close, tucking their bristly heads beneath my chin. Feeling their hot little bodies, hearing their purrs-however weak-was better than any drug. My boys were alive. We'd made it into the night.

But I still couldn't move. Too much trauma, and only some of it was physical. I realized, reluctantly, that part of me had been afraid the boys would peel off my body, right into their own coma-like Grant. That everyone I loved, my entire foundation, would be entirely silenced.

And even though I was relieved that wasn't the case, that small consolation was fraught with all the fear I'd refused to let myself feel. It rolled over me in a devastating wave, and I hugged Dek and Mal to my chest-so tightly their purrs broke. Zee and the others gathered against my back, solid and warm. We breathed together, held each other together, and if I could have folded them inside me, even deeper inside my heart, I would have. I was so frightened of losing them.

My pulse slowed from an eardrum-shattering pound to a slower, lighter thud inside my chest.

"Zee," I whispered. "You okay?"

"Sweet Maxine," he rasped. "Terrible dreams."

"You're sick," I mumbled. "Hurting."

"Yes." Zee shuddered, closing his eyes. "But that not the dream."

Dek made a sharp, keening sound. Raw and Aaz shook, burrowing their heads against me. Zee rocked, claws digging into his round tummy with such ferocity, I thought he might eviscerate himself. I smoothed his spiked hair, desperate to calm him. "What is it?"

"Fire." Zee spoke so softly I could barely hear him, but even silent I would have felt his dread. I tried so hard not to think of that presence in the flames, but it had already crawled into me, and the only safe place was the darkness, which caught me so softly in its coils.

"What was it we saw?" I murmured, afraid of taking comfort in the dark-but more afraid of the fire.

The little demon shook his head. But the darkness whispered: A glimpse of what is to come, young Queen.

I swallowed hard and rubbed Zee's spiny, sharp back. "Come on. We'll worry about this later."

He shot me a quick look-yeah, keep telling yourself that-but straightened up and rolled his little shoulders. "Alive. Staying alive."

Raw and Aaz lifted their fists, weakly, in solidarity, while Dek and Mal began humming the Bee Gees song of the same name. Which I guessed meant they weren't dying. Yet.

"Will get strong," Zee added, for extra emphasis though he didn't sound so sure. Guilt filled me. I couldn't keep taking for granted that they were invulnerable. Not now. We might all be mortal, for however long this recovery took. I had to be careful for their sakes, as much as mine. I had to be careful for my baby.

Careful, in preparation for whatever else was coming.

I tried to move, found myself anch.o.r.ed by demons. So I tilted my head, searching, and found that distant fire.

"Jack," I said. Zee lifted his head, nostrils flaring.

"Meddling Man," he agreed.

I was exhausted. I didn't want to walk, but I was more wary of the armor. Finally learning my lesson, after all. Using it might take me to the edge of Jack's fire-or perhaps I would land at the farm, or on a mountain in Norway. Might not do anything at all. My legs, at any rate, were something I could count on. If I could just figure out how to stand.

Zee pulled me to my feet. I grabbed Raw and Aaz, hauling them up behind me. Dek and Mal clung to my shoulders, their purrs breaking into pathetic little coughs. I patted their heads.

"We good?" I asked them, trying to sound strong.

"Good enough," Zee rasped, and bounded ahead of me. Not fast, not particularly strong . . . but good enough. That's all I needed.

I followed him. Raw and Aaz gathered their strength, dropping in and out of the shadows and using them to skip ahead of us. I trailed them by the glint of their red eyes and the darkness of their bodies, which swallowed what little light came from the stars.

I hunted the fire, too.

I saw Jack long before he saw me. Seated in the gra.s.s, shoulders slumped, several bottles of wine in front of him-and one in his hand. A big blanket covered his shoulders, tied in a knot at his chest. He was staring at the flames, eyes bloodshot, distant-and he was dirty again, his face even more lined than I remembered. If he'd slept at all since I'd last seen him, I'd be shocked.

I walked right up, so close I could smell him. He didn't look up at me, didn't move a muscle. Absolutely still, staring straight ahead, with a million miles in his eyes. Just like before, with the skull. I followed his gaze, looked at the fire-and memories flooded me. Burning alive, burning in the smoke and heat, opening my eyes and staring at- "Jack," I said.

My grandfather twitched, but it was like a horse flicking off a fly. Zee prowled around the fire, watching him. He lacked his usual grace, and he swayed a little with each step-but his gaze was sharp, and the spikes of his hair flexed with agitation. Raw and Aaz also appeared, slumping in the gra.s.s with ragged sighs; almost panting with the effort of that run. Both of them reached into the shadows and pulled out: soft pretzels and hot dogs; a few bags of M&M's; and, finally, a teddy bear.

I crouched beside Jack and hit him in the face with the bear.

That worked. He flinched, blinking hard, and tore his gaze from the fire to stare at me with confused, startled eyes.

"Excuse me," he said, picking bits of fur out of his mouth. "Some respect for your elders is called for."

I almost hit him again. Except his eyes changed, and he leaned forward, staring at me. I waited, only pretending to be patient. Dek and Mal rested their heads against the tips of my shoulders; I could feel their weariness. I was just as tired.

"Maxine," Jack said in a quiet voice. "My dear girl. You are still very ill."

"You knew I was sick."

"I thought you would have healed by now. The boys-"

"You ran." I reached for a small bag of M&M's and tore it open. Dek and Mal finally lifted their heads. "You heard something you didn't like and got the h.e.l.l out."

If part of me expected contrition, I didn't get it. Jack narrowed his eyes. "There was something I needed to do."

I kicked a stone into the fire-sparks flew. "I can see you're hard at work."

He was silent a moment, watching me. Dek and Mal wanted down, and I set them on the gra.s.s. They slithered directly into the fire, curling and twisting inside the heat. Their sighs were loud beneath the crackle of burning dung-a large pile of which was being snacked on by Aaz.

"You asked me to reach out to others of my kind, those who are still my friends," Jack said finally, in a careful voice. "So I did."

I held still. "And?"

"And," he said, very quietly, "they didn't know anything about an attack on this world, or you and Grant."

"Bulls.h.i.t."

"Maxine. My kind cannot lie to one another. An attack is being planned, but the other Aetar cannot agree amongst themselves on how it should proceed-if at all. You and Grant represent too many unknowns."

I drew in a deep breath, held it. "Were you the one who told them about us?"

Zee and the boys shifted around me, lifting themselves, but staying close, staring at my grandfather like wolves. Their red eyes glinted, and their skins swallowed what little starlight touched us. I felt my own light swallowed.

"Did you tell the Aetar about us?" I asked him again, my voice little more than a broken whisper.

He didn't even twitch. I wasn't sure he heard me. His gaze had gone distant again.

"Jack," I said, and Zee leapt over me, snarling. He landed badly, his legs collapsing so that he banged his chin into the ground, but that didn't slow his momentum. In less than a heartbeat: eye to eye with my grandfather.

"Truth," rasped the little demon. "Truth is owed, Meddling Man."

Jack blinked, coming back to himself-to us. I would have thought he was going senile if that wasn't completely impossible. But if something else was the matter, if he'd sold us out, and there was a reason beyond his control, forced against his will . . .

"Of course I told them," he said, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

I stared at him. "I don't understand. You told the Aetar."

"I didn't inform them about your child." Jack took a long drink from his wine bottle; his hand shook, ever so slightly.

Zee snarled and knocked the bottle away. I wanted to do the same thing, except with his head. Rage welled up, so tight and hard I could have hurled it like a stone. "You betrayed us."

He gave me a sharp glance, but there was a hint of guilt in his face. "No."

Zee pushed up hard against me, as did Raw and Aaz-watching him with predatory calm. I said, "You're the reason we're in this f.u.c.king mess."

"No," he said, again. "You are. You and Grant. Your very existence is the reason you are in this situation. That is no one's fault."

I closed my eyes, remembering my grandfather's pa.s.sionate protectiveness. Always, he had pushed the need for secrecy-even when it had become clear that we'd crossed the line, that it was only a matter of time before the Aetar realized what Grant was-and what I had become.

He was right-our existence had created this situation. But that didn't excuse the rest. "I need an explanation. Or so help me, Jack, I will do something I regret."

"Like kill me?" A bitter smile touched his mouth. "Let's not get dramatic."

"Wolf," rasped Zee, in a quiet, warning voice.

A look pa.s.sed between them-old and full, and secret. Neither Zee nor my grandfather had ever looked at me that way. For all that I was his granddaughter, Jack had a more profound connection to the boys, a shared history I could never understand. Too much murder between them, worlds full of blood, and regret. My ancestors were the afterthought, nothing but checkmate. What had come before us was the long game.

"I only meant to take a look," Jack said, still staring at Zee. "I've been away from my kind for a long time. I was lonely for them."

"Tough," I said, and he tore his gaze from the demon to meet mine.

"Yes," he replied, ignoring my sarcasm, "it was. For eons all we had were each other. And for eons after we found flesh, we still could not be far apart. Aetar share worlds because we find comfort in knowing we are not alone. Even if we despise each other, we still find comfort. Because no one else knows. No one else can imagine what it means to be us. And we are almost as afraid of losing that as we are of losing flesh."

Jack relaxed into the gra.s.s, his shoulders and knees popping. A decaying human body: fit skin for an immortal. "When we imprison our kind, it is torture. We know it is torture. We strip the flesh, we isolate. Imagine the void, my dear. Imagine being trapped there."

"You're not in prison."

"I haven't lost my flesh, but I am isolated. Ever since Sarai left . . ." He stopped, closing his eyes; for a moment, I saw real loss on his face. "I needed a reminder of what I am. So I used the crystal skull as a conduit for my true form, so that I could reenter the Labyrinth and . . . see . . . how the other Aetar fared on their worlds. Just a look. It was for you, as well. I wanted to know if they were coming here."

"And they were."

"They were merely thinking of it," he said. "They already knew that two Aetar had died on this world and that their Messenger's bonds had been broken. Something was wrong. They would have found out what, regardless of me."

"You didn't have to say anything at all."

"I didn't expect to be caught watching them," he snapped. "Once I was seen, I had to give them something. I had to speak the truth. If I hadn't, if I'd run . . . I would have risked coming off as a traitor. They already suspected as much."

"You were afraid they would imprison you."

Jack said nothing. Zee held still, but I felt his tension; a mirror of my own. He rasped, "Not telling whole truth, Meddling Man."

Even I could see that. My grandfather was distracted again, as if what he was saying wasn't that important. He was telling me because he had to, not because it mattered.

Jack gave the demon a dirty look. I said, "All this time, you could have warned us. Why didn't you say anything, right when I found you?"

"I told you, I thought the Aetar were merely planning an attack. I was as surprised as you to learn they'd already come after your child and Grant. What else was there to warn you about, after that?" He looked away, and muttered, "There are more important concerns."

"More important than our lives?" I stood, and swayed, hit with dizziness. Zee pressed his claws against my leg, steadying me. My mouth was dry, my skin hot. A remnant of the fever, still in my bones. "Get up. I'm taking you home. We'll sort it out there."