by Emily Mckay
Unspun did not sound good.
“Edena Allegra Keller, you must promise me—”
“Oh my God! Is that my binding name?”
She sighs. “Edena—”
“It is, isn’t it?” I step closer to Master Flores, almost as if she’s already used my binding name. As if magic is already weaving me into the story of this world. “How do you know my binding name? You used it then, too, didn’t you? Is it like, in my school records? Did you—” I cut myself off.
Master Flores looks ready to strangle me.
“Why don’t I just let you finish your thought.” I try to contain my smile. I mean, a binding name! How cool is that?
Okay, sure. Anyone who knows it can use it to summon me or bind me to their will. So it’s actually a little terrifying. But as long as I don’t tell anyone what it is, what could go wrong?
Master Flores seems to be waiting to make sure I’m really done babbling. Finally, she says, “Edena Allegra Keller, you must not tell Kane of the death that fate has woven for him.”
And this time when she says my name, I feel a tingle of electricity weave through the air between us.
“If no one tells him, how will he avoid it?”
“Promise me.”
“Are you going to tell him?”
“When the time is ripe,” she murmurs. “But you must promise not to interfere.”
“Only if you promise me you’re going to tell him first.” Binding name or not, I’m not letting him die.
She narrows her gaze at me.
I narrow mine right back.
“You’ll tell him before the day of his assassination,” I say, pressing her. “I’ll need your binding name to secure the promise.”
“Very well.” She once again reaches up and puts her fingers to my temple. “My binding name is Mahalia Diwata Flores.”
I carefully place my fingers on her temple, mirroring her. I repeat her name, trying to mimic her exact pronunciation.
Finally, she nods. “I give you my word.”
“And I give you mine.”
The second half of the binding pledge comes easily to my lips, as if I had been swearing oaths in the Kingdoms of Mithres all my life. The magic in the air tightens around us, binding us to the promise.
Or maybe I’m just excited. I am embarking on a grand adventure.
I am in the Kingdoms of Mithres. Kane is somewhere nearby. And I have exacted a promise from a powerful Curati that she will help prevent Kane’s assassination.
Even as powerful as she is, I know she’s wrong about one thing—it’s not my destiny to find the lost Oidrhe. Kane is the lost Oidrhe. He may not be much older than I am, he may not believe it yet himself, but he is meant to be the High King.
When he claims the throne, he will pull this world back from the brink of civil war. I know it in my soul. Just like I knew I was meant to walk through the doors of Book People and into this world.
For the first time in a very long time, I have a purpose.
If Master Flores is correct and I do have Sleeker blood, then I really was made to want things beyond my reach, to want impossible things. Saving one guy’s life and altering the course of destiny seems about as impossible as it gets.
That’s good enough for me. This is what I was made for. Saving Kane is my destiny.
Excerpt from
Book Five of The Traveler Chronicles:
A Traveler Undone
After escaping from Smyth and his goons, I went home.
My apartment had so many wards placed around that a hellhound could lift a leg and take a piss on it and still not realize it was there.
I had spent the past six years of my life making sure Smyth could never find it and wouldn’t be able to get in even if he did.
Since that was where I’d stashed the princess, I knew beyond a shadow of a dowtless Kellas cat that she was safe.
I was wrong.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Before I can say anything else, the curtain rustles behind me. And there he is.
Kane.
In the flesh. Living and breathing.
Emphasis on living.
There’s no question it’s him. From the tips of his scuffed leather work boots to his worn leather jacket, to the scruffy, too-long brown hair, to the sharp intelligence blazing in his eyes, I recognize him. And he’s tall. Taller than I thought six four would be.
Still, he’s not exactly what I expect. He’s younger than I thought. The jacket’s wrong. His hair is the right length, but lighter than I expect. His jaw is lean, with hard edges like Wallace described, but his lips are too full.
My reaction to the sight of him is physical. Visceral.
Like nothing I’ve ever felt before. Like every cell in my body has been in cryogenic stasis until now and the second I saw him, they all leaped to life and started vibrating.
It’s not just that I’m glad he’s alive. It’s not just that he’s real, or that he’s actually here. It’s more than that.
It’s that I’ve been in love with him since I was eleven. He’s everything I’ve ever wanted in a guy. He’s smart and clever. Strong, but sometimes vulnerable. He’s an outcast, like me. He’s been abandoned by his father, like me. He’s cynical and bitter, but never enough to outweigh the goodness at his core. He’s tough. A fighter. But in the end, he always, always does the right thing.
The biggest difference between us is that his life has thrust the chance for greatness upon him. I’ve never had the chance to do anything that’s of value to anyone.
If he lives long enough to take the throne, he will rule a vast magical kingdom. If I make it back to my world…? I’ll just go back to English class.
Jesus, my life feels small sometimes. Insignificant.
But it feels bigger with Kane here.
Not just here. But alive.
He is not going to die. Not on my watch.
For a second, he just stares at us, his scowl deepening until he practically growls, “What are you doing here, Curator?”
I gape at Master Flores. I’d figured out she was one of the Curati, but…
“You’re the Curator? As in, the most powerful of all the Curati?”
Kane still glares at Master Flores—holy shit, the Curator! “You know I’m not magically bound by protocols of high court. I’m not going to bow and grovel and tell you how your very presence makes my soul blossom or any of that other shit. So you might as well just tell me why you’re here.”
Master Flores wraps her fingers around my arm and tugs me forward, presenting me to Kane. “I bring you an Untethered Sleeker.”
For the first time, I feel the weight of his gaze. It’s not so much that he didn’t notice me before, but rather that he didn’t think I was worth his attention. Now he looks at me, taking a few steps closer and studying me with the tilted head. I shiver under the intensity of his gaze, my pulse racing. I’m afraid he can read everything in my eyes. My hopes and dreams. My deepest fantasies. My very soul. I can hardly breathe when he looks at me, because—OMG!—he’s Kane-the-frickin’-Traveler! And he’s looking at me. And—
“A bit stubby, isn’t she?” he says, arching an eyebrow at Master Flores. “For a Sleeker, I mean.”
Wait. What?
Kane the Traveler just looked me up and down, gazed intently into my eyes, seemed to assess my very soul. And all he could come up with was stubby?
Stubby?
“Perhaps,” Master Flores says.
“I’m five four,” I interject. “Which is average.” I definitely prefer my own cartoon-bunny analogy.
They both ignore me.
“I have felt the Sleeker blood coursing through her veins.” Master Flores continues. “And she is Untethered, something even you cannot dispute, since she stands before you now.”
&nbs
p; Since I’m still unsure about this whole Untethered thing, I hold up a finger to interrupt. “Can someone—”
Kane ignores me. “I don’t dispute it. But I don’t need a Sleeker, Untethered or otherwise. I don’t need someone who can cross freely between worlds, because I’m not going to waste my time trying to cross over to the Dark World to search for the lost Oidrhe. The lost Oidrhe is a myth. If she was still alive, you’d have found her by now.”
“Wait, you think the lost Oidrhe is a girl? That’s insane. Kane is obviously the lost Oidrhe!”
This time they both turn and glare at me. Kane even rolls his eyes.
“Your doubts are irrelevant,” the Curator says to Kane. “Smyth is amassing power and will act soon. Neither of you will be safe until—”
This time, Kane doesn’t just cut her off. He grabs her by the shoulders and gives her a little shake. “Don’t you dare say—” He stops abruptly to glare in my direction. Then he releases Master Flores’s shoulders. “I will not discuss this here. Not in public. And not in front of this scrawny Dark Worlder.”
He abruptly lets go of Master Flores and walks past her. She follows him.
I scurry along behind them. We take the same path as before, but this time we end up at a staircase. Kane pauses in front of it. He raises his hands before him and traces a shape in the air. A faint pulse of energy surges through the narrow aisle.
“Oh! I know what you’re doing,” I exclaim. “You just pulled a rune to take down your wards.”
Kane pauses long enough to give me a “well, duh” look.
I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks. “It’s just…I’ve read about that.”
“Seriously? This is the Sleeker that’s going to help me find the Oidrhe?”
The Curator bristles defensively. “She still needs training.”
“Obviously.”
“You—” He points to the Curator. “Can come with me. We have things to discuss. But you…” This time he points to me. “Stay here.”
“What?” I protest. “You really expect me to just stay here? That’s not—”
But before I can finish the sentence, he and the Curator are gone. I try to follow them, but the wards snap back into place, like there’s a wall of Jell-O between me and the stairs. When I lean into it, it gives, but no more than an inch or so. And when I stop pushing, I spring back again.
Well, this sucks.
I can’t believe I actually met Kane.
My hero. My idol. My book boyfriend and literary soul mate.
And he thinks I’m stubby. And maybe scrawny. And apparently, a little incompetent.
Ugh.
Not that I expected anything…I don’t know…romantic or lightning bolt-y. After all, Kane’s going to fall in love with Princess Merianna of the Red Court—one of the most beautiful, sophisticated, powerful girls in his world. My expectation for romantic chemistry between us was zero, but still… Let’s just say, that did not go as planned.
Not that I had a plan. I didn’t imagine I’d run into Kane, here of all places, in this dump, where… Oh. This must be the building his loft is in.
In the books, he lives above an old bookstore called The Volume Arcana. The dumpy store downstairs must be that bookstore. Wow. Wallace really oversold the place.
The minutes tick by. What could be taking so long? I pull my phone out and check the time. I reached Book People around seven. It’s not even eight yet. I’ve been in the Kingdoms of Mithres less than an hour.
Also, I have several unread texts from my mom.
Stopped at DD for an afternoon snack.
Then there’s an awkward selfie of my mom holding my favorite glazed chocolate cake donut and an iced coffee.
Shit.
I hadn’t thought about my mom. Not even once. I feel bad, since she’s obviously trying her best to not be helicopter-y, to trust me to be safe. She would not be okay with this.
I type a quick Bring me one? and add a kiss-blowing emoji. It’s not until I hit send and watch my phone struggling to deliver the message that it hits me. Duh. No cell service in an alternate reality.
I swipe left on the texts and see that they came through in a cluster just before I entered Book People.
I stare at the picture of my mom for a long minute before turning off my phone and sliding it back in the pocket of my messenger bag. Seeing my mom—glimpsing the real world—stirs up a mess of crap inside me.
Like the fact that I don’t know… I don’t really know…that this is all really real. It feels real. I believe it’s real. But maybe my dad believed it was real, too.
But I can’t think like that. That’s a rabbit hole I’ve been avoiding for the past four years. I’m a pro at shutting down those thoughts.
Assuming this is real, I’m in another world. How am I going to get back? What if I can’t go back?
What if…what if I’m trapped here?
That would… Well, that would really suck.
Being in the Kingdoms of Mithres is cool and all, but I don’t want to live here. Plus, just being here is illegal. Most of the Tuatha like Dark Worlder stuff—artifacts, movies, etc.—but hate actual Dark Worlders.
So much, in fact, they created the Sleekers, a whole new race, to keep them out. And to track them down and kill them if they happened to make it across into the Kingdoms of Mithres.
So yeah, if I’m stuck here, I probably won’t be stuck here for very long, because I’ll be hunted down like the fugitive I am.
Also, what about my mom? All she would know is that she left for a weekend and I vanished. She would assume I was kidnapped and left in a ditch somewhere, dead. Or at the bottom of a pit rubbing lotion on my skin like that chick from Silence of the Lambs.
She would be thinking that right now if she wasn’t out of town.
Whatever else happens, that gives me at least thirty-six hours to get this sorted out.
At the beginning of the last book, Kane is hired to find a princess, Merianna, who was kidnapped by Smyth on the way to her wedding. After Kane rescues her, she hires him to escort her the rest of the way. They travel incognito and fall in love. Kane finally accepts that he is powerful enough to unite the Kingdoms of Mithres and they decide to rule the kingdoms together. However, when they enter the church, an assassin is waiting for them. Kane throws himself in front of the princess, which saves her, but he is killed.
Is there a way to honor my binding promise to the Curator and save Kane? After all, I don’t have to actually tell him about the assassin. I just have to keep him out of that church.
I can save Kane. I know I can.
I may be insignificant and basically friendless in my world, but here, I can do something important. I can change Kane’s fate.
Which sounds like a great plan, until I remember I’m still trapped in this warehouse. I hear a scuttling sound off to my left. I whirl around but see nothing but a flicker of movement in the shadows.
Oh God. I hope that’s a rat.
Okay, there’s a thought I never imagined having.
I call out, “Hey, Curator! I think there’s something down here with me.”
God, I hope that’s a normal rat and not a huge, Dark-Worlder-murdering rat.
My whole body shivers with revulsion.
Okay, let’s think this through.
What are my options?
Option 1: I can go back out into the store and get help from the store clerk.
Who absolutely is the kind of guy who has a dress made out of human skin.
So that’s a big no.
Option 2: I leave the store and hope that when I walk back through the doors, I end up back in my world.
But if I walk through the doors and don’t go home, then I’m out on the streets by myself, with no way to defend myself from hellhounds or any of the other scary bad guys who
prowl the streets of the Kingdoms of Mithres at night.
So with option 2, I have a fifty-fifty shot of going home or ending up dead.
Option 3: I find a way past Kane’s wards.
That’s not quite as crazy as it sounds.
The way Wallace described it, the air in the Kingdoms of Mithres is woven thick with a dense web of the threads that connect all things. Pulling a rune draws a specific thread of magic toward you—in this case, the thread of magical protection that surrounds Kane’s apartment.
With my eyes closed, I try to remember the motion I saw Kane do.
I open my eyes, press my thumb and forefinger together, and then trace the shape in the air, watching my fingers carefully, waiting for a pulse of energy, a blur of magical light. Anything.
I get nothing.
No zing. No zap. No glimmer.
I try again. And a third time. Just in case, you know, that’s the charm.
Still nothing.
Well, shit.
I guess it was a bit much to expect that I’d be able to do magic forty-five minutes after crossing into the Kingdoms of Mithres.
Just for giggles, I pretend it’s the Room of Requirement and walk back and forth three times, hoping to get in. Big surprise, that doesn’t work either.
Then, because there’s no way I’m sitting down on this floor, I lean my back against the Jell-O wall.
This sucks.
The universe is being completely unreasonable.
Clearly, I’m here for a reason.
Saving Kane is up to me.
All I want is to restore justice to the universe and prevent the Kingdoms of Mithres from descending into the chaos of outright civil war. Why is that too much to ask?
Why can’t—
That’s when I fall backward onto my ass.
Excerpt from
Book Five of The Traveler Chronicles:
The Traveler Undone
The building that houses The Volume Arcana was designed and built in 1943 by a Sleeker architect by the name of Williams Dodgly. Dodgly was obsessed with strengthening his connection to the Dark World. He imbued every pebble of mortar, every beam, and every brick with magical energy. Then he planted the building right on top of the most volatile threshold between worlds.