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I’d almost made it through the wards. Another few seconds…
    Mzatal entered and stopped before me. I dragged my gaze up to him, but the headache pounded so fiercely there seemed to be three of him. All three Mzatals lowered their heads and regarded me while Gestamar held me firmly before him. “Loss to wandering is a near certainty for death and a second passage through the void,” Mzatal told me, mouth pursing in a frown. “A poor choice. A poor option.”
    Wandering.
Like Tessa
, I realized numbly. Not dispersed but lost in the void. Just as bad. Perhaps even worse.
    I opened my mouth to tell him that he hadn’t presented any better options, but the nausea rose instead, and I spewed what little was in my gut onto the floor between us. Mzatal took a smooth half-step back to avoid the splatter, more of which ended up on me than him.
    “The removal will take place in two days, after we return to my realm,” he told me, completely unperturbed, as if I hadn’t just tried to jump out of a window and then puked on the floor. “Until then, Safar is your guard and guardian.”
    My head pounded as I shakily wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. Holy fuck, but I’d never hated anyone as much as I hated this fucking lord at this moment. Misery coiled in my empty stomach as if taunting me that it was there instead of food.
    Mzatal regarded me. “It serves your purpose and mine for the unknown to become known, and Szerain’s realm holds many keys to unlocking your value. Do not waste the opportunity, Kara Gillian,” he said, tone rich and intense. His eyes remained on me for a moment more, then he turned and departed, hands behind his back.
    Gestamar released me as another reyza entered, smaller and sharper in features than Gestamar. I swayed and rubbed at my temples, trying hard not to whimper as the two had a brief conversation in demon. I’d never had a migrainebefore, but I could only imagine this was what one was like.
    Safar took hold of my arm in a careful grip, steadying me. “I am Safar, summoner.”
    “I’m Kara Gillian,” I managed.
    “Fair greetings, Kara Gillian,” he rumbled as he gently moved me toward the door. “Come.”
    I didn’t resist and moved where he directed. A numbness descended on me as he led me through corridors, and my headache receded somewhat as we moved further away from the room and broken window. It still hurt, but now it was more like bad-hangover than alien-about-to-burst-from-my-forehead. Even my nausea retreated. Now I was mostly starving.
    “Gestamar is having a draught prepared for your headache,” the reyza told me as he maneuvered me through a debris-strewn hallway.
    “Oh. Thanks,” I said. Not Mzatal. Gestamar. Maybe Mzatal didn’t give a fuck how miserable I was. Hell, there was no maybe about it.
    My heel came down on a shard of glass as we walked but, to my surprise and relief, no slicing pain came with it. Remembering, I lifted my arm and peered at the long scratch from the window. It was an owie and little more.
    “What is this stuff?” I said, nudging a piece with my big toe. “It’s not real glass, is it?”
    Safar snorted. “It is very real, though not made like the glass of Earth. It is closer to a resin. Stronger, insulates against heat and cold more effectively, and does not cut like your glass.”
    Without Gestamar breathing down my neck I could slow down enough to take in more of Szerain’s palace. I had to wonder how much of a hand he had in its actual creation since the whole thing was like a work of art, mostly curves and graceful arcs—even the doors—with sharp angles kept to a minimum. Portraits, paintings, and statues were ubiquitous—humans, demons, and some—well, I didn’t have a clue. Déjà vu integrated like an extra sense. At first it freaked me out; little things like knowing how many windows would be in the next room or which hallway might lead outside. It wasn’t always right, but enough for me to have no doubt Elinor had