I fought with myself for a moment, then decided if I relaxed, it would give me a little rest. I breathed in the steam, welcoming the warmth into my body.

Hanna handed me a cloth and bar of handmade soap, and I began to wash myself. As I gazed into the steam, I began to slide into a mild trance. And then it hit me like a ton of bricks. I might be able to use the Soul Symbiont ritual to contact Smoky, Morio, and Trillian. To at least let them know I was still alive.

I closed my eyes and inhaled slowly, then let out my breath in a long, steady stream, lowering myself deeper into the trance.

Down, down, deep into the abyss. Let myself slide. Where am I? In a place of swirling fog and mist. In a place of eternal snow. And there, there . . . are sparkles. Tracers. Follow the magic, follow the eye catchers, go racing through the mists. A whirl of whispers, a flutter of sparks, and . . . down farther, deeper within, follow the path to the spark that makes up my inner core, that most sacred of places kept safe from everyone and everything. And there . . . a pinpoint of light, the core of the magic . . .

Another breath, another whirl in the mists . . . go into the light, follow the trail . . . follow the path . . . and then—one more step and . . .

I was standing on the astral, knee deep in mist. The very air sparkled with energy, fluttering like a thousand electrical impulses. Or, what passed for air—on the astral I really didn’t need to breathe, especially because I wasn’t there fully in body but only in spirit. Pink, green, yellow, blue . . . the fluorescence reminded me of the bay at night when the algae flowed in on the tide.

Not sure where I was, I turned, scattering a stream of the sparkles. Where were they? Where were their signatures? I searched, focusing on their faces, holding them firmly in mind, and began to send out a call as I moved forward.

I might as well explore while trying to get through to them. The mist swirled around my legs, a welcoming presence. The astral made me feel safer—at least my spirit could escape, even if my body was trapped with a crazed dragon. And that promise seemed priceless right now.

Smoky, Morio, Trillian—I’m here! Can you hear me? Can you find your way to me? Help! I’m here! I’m alive! Smoky!

And then I heard a voice that I had never expected to hear. It came up from behind me, welcome and yet so out of the blue that I almost fell, whirling around to see if it was who I really thought it might be.

“Camille? What are you doing here?”

There, right in front of me, stood Chase.

Chapter 11

“Chase! Oh Chase!” Overjoyed, I raced forward and threw my arms around him. Even though I was only on the astral in spirit, it still felt real and right now I needed a friendly face more than anything. I burst into tears, resting my head on his shoulder.

“Here now . . . it’s okay. I’m alive. I’m just surprised you managed to find me. I’ve been out here wandering around for a while.” He slowly disengaged me and smiled down at me. “How long have you been looking for me? How much time has passed? I haven’t been gone for years, I hope?”

I shivered, slowly realizing that he had no clue as to what was going on. Of course he wouldn’t—he was off in his own private hell.

“Chase . . . I’m sorry . . . I didn’t come out here looking for you, though I’m overjoyed I found you. I’m trying to contact Smoky or Morio or Trillian. Listen—please, I may not have much time before they force me out of trance. Hyto caught me. He’s holding me in the Northlands, setting a trap for Smoky. If you somehow find your way off the astral before they know where I am . . . please, tell them. And tell them . . . I love everybody.”

Again, the waterworks hit and I burst into tears again. Chase stared at me for a moment, then pulled me into his arms and rested my head on his shoulder, patting my back.

“Ssh . . . it will be okay. I’ll find my way out and we’ll come rescue you. Has he hurt you? Are you . . .” He stopped, then shook his head. “You don’t have to answer that.”

I hung my head. “He’s got something horrid in store for me. I know that. He’s roughed me up a bit so far. But Chase—” My voice came low and raspy. “I don’t think I’m going to get out of this one. Not without major damage. If at all. Promise me, if . . . if he kills me before I can get away, you will keep watch over my family?”

Chase nodded; I could feel his head bob. Feeling a little better, I cleared my throat and pushed away, drying my eyes. I wasn’t the only one wandering lost right now. “What about you? Where are you? We followed you up to a mushroom ring, but we couldn’t go through without knowing what was on the other side. Does the Bog Eater have you?”

He cocked his head, looking confused. “The Bog Eater? I don’t like the sound of that . . . whatever he is. I’m not sure where I am, to be honest. Some old hag with more hands than I care to think about yanked me through the portal and raced off with me. She reminds me of a spider. I managed to get away; I got my gun out and fired, but by then I was lost and had no clue what was going on. She caught me again, reeling me in by a silken thread, and carried me through the mushroom ring. I was tucked away in a mound, tied up. She kept feeding me honey and bread, and poking me with one of her hands.”

“We found your gun and your watch. Delilah has them.” I grimaced. His adventure sounded about as pleasant as what I was going through. “Just how many hands does she have?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know, but at least five or six. I was seriously afraid she was going to eat me, and I don’t mean a blow job by that. I finally decided to try to use whatever powers I’m developing and . . . well . . . I ended up here. I’m not sure how . . . I don’t even know if my body is here.”

I focused on him, reaching out to trace the outline of his aura. It was firm, solid . . . What the fuck? Chase had managed to propel himself onto the astral in body? How had he done that?

“Dude, I don’t know how to tell you this, but you’re here. Fully. In body. Listen—you be careful. There are a lot of nasty creatures out here on the astral, but if you’re cautious you might be able to find someone to help you get home—”

Everything began to blur and I realized that I was phasing out. Hanna must be shaking me. “I’ve got to go. Please . . . be careful. Be safe. Find your way home.” And then, without so much as a blink, I was back in the tub, and Hanna was taking the washcloth away from me and forcing me under the water.

I sputtered, clawing at her hands, trying to break the surface. After another moment, she let up and I broke out of the water, gasping.

“What the fuck are you doing? Trying to drown me?” I spit out a mouthful of the musky-tasting water and looked for something to wipe my eyes, which were burning.

She handed me a towel of a surprisingly soft weave and motioned for me to wipe my eyes. “I asked you to wash your hair and you did not listen.” After taking the towel back, she handed me the soap. “Now lather up your locks and then rinse again. And be quick or I’ll do it for you myself.”

Glaring at her, but realizing it would be a mistake to point out that I’d been in trance and not paying attention, I rubbed the soap on my head and then rinsed the suds out of my hair. Hanna grunted, then motioned for me to stand up. Reluctantly, I came out of the warm water and the chill of the cavern struck me before she could wrap me in a fresh towel. I huddled beneath the drape, trying to stay warm, as she led me to the edge of a fire pit and bade me sit on a bench.

As I sat down, she took the towel and replaced it with a blanket, then took a rough comb and slowly began to brush the tangles out of my hair. After a moment, I heard what sounded like a choking sound, and when I turned, I saw tears in her eyes. She was biting back a frown.

“Hanna? What’s wrong?”

She shook her head, but then after another moment said, “I used to brush my little girls’ hair. I would brush and brush, then braid up their locks. They loved it. It was our special time each day, after all the chores were done. You remind me of one of them. She took after her father, with dark hair and pale skin.”

That could be useful, I thought, then sighed at my own ruthlessness. But I was fighting for my life. I had to use anything I could.

“What was her name? How old was she?”

“She was a maid, old enough to marry but still young. Her name was Sifonar. She was . . . she was beautiful, and so many young men wanted to marry her. But she didn’t want to wed—not yet. She wanted a life of adventure. Now . . . now I have no idea whether she lives or dies. I’ll probably never see her or her sisters again,” she said quietly, her brushstrokes becoming a bit more gentle.

I bit my lip, then inhaled slowly and let out my breath. “That feels good. Thank you.”

“Hrmph.” Hanna frowned as I glanced over my shoulder, but she continued the brushing and within ten minutes, my hair was drying and beginning to curl into its natural wave. I said nothing else, just crouched toward the flames, trying to stay warm.

“You are cold, girl?”

“My name is Camille,” I said, slowly. “And yes, I’m cold.”

“The Northlands are the heart of winter. It never warms up here. Oh, the snow recedes a bit, and a spare vegetation grows and flowers, but there’s never really any warmth here.”

“I know. I had just returned to my home from a journey here when Hyto captured me. While up here, I stayed with Howl’s people, down near the Skirts of Hel.” It was a calculated risk, mentioning the Great Winter Wolf Spirit, but I was willing to chance it.

Hanna dropped her comb. “Howl? You know the Elemental Lord?”

“Yes, I do.” I stood and turned to her. “He was gracious in his hospitality. He is a powerful friend. A powerful ally. I believe he’s near, isn’t he?”

Her gaze darting frightened glances toward the cage with her son in it, she paused for a moment, then retrieved the comb. “Your hair is nearly dry. Now you must dress and then attend the Master in his chamber.”

Crap. Not enough to push her into helping. I reached out, lightly touched her arm. “Please, please, help me. I can’t stand the thought of going to him. He’ll . . . I’m sure you’ve seen what he’s done with other—toys—haven’t you? How many survive? How many scream for help as he tears them apart? How many bones has he tossed to the side?”

Tears began to form in her eyes. “You look so much like my Sifonar. So much . . . but she is no longer here for me to protect. My son is, however.” Then, with a final shake of the head, she added, “I cannot help you. I can’t risk harm my own flesh and blood to help a stranger.”

I dropped my hand. Of course she couldn’t, and I knew it—knew it in my heart, in my gut. I didn’t expect her to sacrifice her son for me. “Yeah. And that’s exactly what I’m asking, isn’t it? I’m sorry. Of course you can’t help me. I wouldn’t compromise my sisters for a stranger.” Resigned, feeling numb, I shrugged out of the blanket. “Where are my clothes?”

“He wishes you to wear clothing of his choice.” Hanna reached out, holding tight to my wrist. “Please, don’t hate me,” she said, a pleading look on her face.

“I don’t.” I shook my head, and meant every word. “I don’t hate you, but you need to understand, I’m probably walking in to my death. And he’s setting up my husband—his own son—to die. Don’t you understand? Hyto is my father-in-law.”

A look washed across her face, a mixture of disgust and horror. “No. You are his family?”

“Apparently, to Hyto, family members don’t get free passes.” Hardening myself, I held out my arms. I’d have to be strong, have to cope with whatever was coming my way because right now I wasn’t seeing any way out of this. “Dress me.”

Hanna moved silently, avoiding my stare. She pulled out a silver thong. As I stepped into it, the silk of the material slid luxuriously against my skin, and my butt never felt quite so exposed, even when I was naked.

I felt like a prize cow, preparing to be paraded around the room before slaughter. Hanna then draped a sheer gown over my shoulders. It fastened in front with a jeweled clasp, so that my breasts rounded heavily over the top, exposed and full. I shivered as she dusted my nipples with a shimmering powder the color of ice.

As comfortable as I was in my body, the mere thought of Hyto seeing me naked made me sick to my stomach. I wanted to run and hide. Or maybe I should just jump off the edge of the world out on the ledge and go flying to my death. The thought gave me some comfort—if his torture was too painful, I could throw myself over the edge.

“You must eat before you go in.” She led me to a table, where I sat and she brought me a slab of toasted bread with a soft cheese spread thickly across the top. It had the slight fragrance of honey in it, and even though my stomach protested, I forced myself to eat. I’d need all the strength I could get. Hanna offered me a pint of ale and I drank that, too, wincing at the heavy taste of yeast.

“I can’t believe I’m here.” I stared into my stein. Maybe I could do like Chase and project myself onto the astral—in body. I could find my way home from here that way. But I’d never done so before without the help of the Moon Mother, or without someone else’s magic. It wasn’t one of my talents and I wasn’t sure how to go about it. But if Chase had managed . . . maybe I could, too?

Three bells rang, chiming through the cavern. Hanna frantically grabbed the stein away and pointed toward a hole in the corner. There were torn shreds of rough paper next to it. “Go to the bathroom, now. While you have the chance. The Master . . . rejoices in humiliation.” Her words were low but the meaning clear. “Hurry. That is the signal to bring you to him.”