“I must go over to the mortal world again.”

Rae stilled. “Again?”

Devlin stepped farther into the shadows of the cave. “I am not sure how long I’ll be gone this time.”

“Something is wrong with the High Queen. She barely lowers the light.” Rae couldn’t see beyond the crevice where Devlin had entered. The brightness that seeped through the small fissure was painful to her. Facing it full on would be blinding.

“Light soothes her; darkness reminds her of her twin.” He was out of the light now, comforting in his presence as none other had ever been. The High Court’s assassin was her friend, her companion, her only solace in a world that— even after decades—still made little sense to her.

Rae leaned against a flat stone on one side of the cave. “I could come with you.”

Devlin kept his distance. “And if you were drawn back to your body by being in the mortal world?”

“If I was drawn into my body, which I don’t think I would be, I suspect I’d die.” She stepped a little closer to him.

Devlin didn’t move away. “Which I do not want.”

For a moment, they stood in silence. She hated being left alone in Faerie, feared the High Queen, worried about Devlin, and wished she could go to the mortal world.

With careful deliberation, Rae stepped closer to him again. Were she solid, her skirt would be atop his feet. “Will you check on her? Ani is important. Just once go seek her out.”

“Don’t do this.” Devlin’s voice held the edge that it always did when Rae broached forbidden topics.

“You’re making a mistake,” she whispered. “You saved her. You ought to—”

“Don’t.” Devlin turned his back to her and walked away, retreating almost to the sunlight at the mouth of the cave. “I did as you wished. She lives. Nothing more is required.”

Rae lifted one hand, but didn’t follow. It wouldn’t matter: she couldn’t touch him, couldn’t force him to face her. Without his help, she had no physical substance.

Without him, I have nothing.

“Can I take a walk? Before you go?” Rae tried to make her invitation sound casual. It was one of the things she’d realized early on: she couldn’t act like it was important.

To either of us.

He turned. A flash of relief, so brief that it barely registered before vanishing, slid across Devlin’s impassive face. “If it would calm you…”

“It would,” Rae assured him. She didn’t give voice to the fact that it would calm both of them. Devlin wouldn’t have stood so pensively if he didn’t seek the reprieve. He needed an excuse, and he needed an invitation. Unless it was for political maneuvers, for the ability to lie, Devlin never admitted wanting the respite that Rae’s possession allowed them both. Letting her close to him, letting her possess him, gave him freedom from the stifling rules of Faerie. It gave him an excuse to enjoy his other sister’s heritage without consequences.

“Fine.” Devlin stood still, motionless as only a faery could be.

She walked across the cave as if she could touch the stone floor. She measured each step as she’d been doing earlier for peace, counting them out as if at one of the long-ago dances she’d attended when she still had a body. Her skirts swayed, and the illusion made her feel closer to being tangible.

Devlin’s lips parted enough that a sigh could escape as Rae stood face-to-face with him. His body tensed in anticipation. His pupils dilated in the flood of adrenaline released by fear and excitement.

She slipped into his body, pushing Devlin to the back of his own mind and animating the body as if it were her own. She could feel him, talk to him inside their body, but he didn’t control the movements. Not now. After so many times inside Devlin, it felt as familiar as her own body had. More perhaps.

She didn’t ask where he wanted to go. If she did, he would pretend not to have any interest in what she did with his body, but she felt him, watching and riding out the emotions they both felt during their shared occupation. It was the only time within Faerie that he could revel in passions— because he was not the one choosing to indulge.

“In the mortal world, you are not so cautious,” she whispered. “I know your secrets, Devlin. I’ve seen the memories. The indulgences…”

What I do there is of no consequence, he muttered. I do as my queen bids first. I serve my—

“I’m not chastising. I think you should take pleasure for yourself.” Rae stretched, enjoying the heaviness of wearing bone and muscle again. She reached her hands out and touched the rocks that jutted unevenly in the cave. It was within the side of a mountain, not visible to the High Queen or perhaps simply not worthy of her notice. Devlin had made the cave where Rae hid. Like the queen, Devlin could bend reality in Faerie if he wanted to, but no one—save Rae— knew that Devlin could remake the world at his will. Out of respect for his queen, he’d hidden that truth from everyone.

“Oh, the things we could do if you weren’t so obstinate, Dev,” she said. “The world could be ours. No limits. Think about the freedom, the pleasures….”

I’m not going to spend all day like this, Rae, he said. Or discussing that again.

“Only because you know I’m right, and you’re going to have to admit it or lie to me… which you can’t do.” Rae grinned and kicked off the sandals that Devlin had worn. They were too utilitarian, too restrictive. Feet bare, Rae stepped out the doorway into the brightness of Faerie. It felt deliciously scandalous to have her feet naked. Such a thing would’ve shocked everyone she’d known in the mortal world.

I serve the High Queen. It’s the choice I made, he repeated as usual.

“Some choices can be traps. Do you honestly think that staying the course just because you once thought it was right is wise? There are other choices.”

Enough, Rae. He raised his voice inside their body. Can we not… argue? Take the body where you will, Rae. Devlin sounded both wearied and hopeful.

Rae heard the hope in his voice. It was small progress, but it was progress.

Ani and Tish flung themselves down the street toward the Crow’s Nest. It wasn’t quite running, but it was far faster than walking. Ani had to pace herself, force her feet to move slower to keep beside Tish. It didn’t used to be like that, but over the last year, Ani had changed more every month. Tish hadn’t.

Ani had always been a little different, but not enough to matter. She was just part of Ani-and-Tish, the “Trouble Twins”—even though Tish was really almost three years older. They had a difficult time being apart, so Tish stayed home a couple years extra before starting school. She helped Ani with book stuff and following mortal world rules, and Ani kept Tish safe from dangers and boredom. That was how it worked. And it did work—until Ani had changed too much.

“Ani?” Tish’s voice was breathless. “Slower?”

“Sorry.” Ani slowed down, looking up ahead at the cluster of people outside the Crow’s Nest. Mortals. Almost everyone there was mortal, but that was fine by Ani. All the delectable faeries were afraid of Gabriel and of Irial, but mortals weren’t aware of the Dark Court. Most weren’t aware of the existence of faeries—which made them the best game in town.

“…Rabbit’s worried about money.” Tish was breathing heavily, despite Ani slowing down even more.

“Money?”

“Things are tight, but he’s still talking like I should”— Tish sent a pleading look at Ani—“go to college next year. Not far away or anything, but just… away.”

Ani kept her face as expressionless as she could. “Oh… so you want to… I mean… if that’s what you want, good.”

“I do, but I don’t like being far from you or Rab or Iri or Dad, especially lately. I hated when Winter was constant, but at least then you knew what to expect. With the courts all snarling at one another… I’m not sure I want to be away.” Tish looked down briefly, not saying the things they couldn’t, not admitting that she was too weak to defend herself.