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enjoy when Under was given new souls, even if by strange or uncomfortable means. “Here we are. Oh. And be prepared. Queen Ini can be a bit…much.”

Ember barely heard Lyon’s warning. It didn’t make much sense, anyway. She was too busy gaping at the building. Honestly, she couldn’t help it. There was too much detail to possibly see all at once. Why were all the buildings in Under so big? It was enormous, with a huge domed roof that rose above.

It resembled some of the old world “capitol buildings” she had seen in her travels, but those had all been burned out, collapsed, and decayed. This building very much was not. Statues and carvings covered every inch of the exterior. Strange creatures, monsters, and people all mixed together in frescos and depictions of war, of peace, and of everything in between. The whole of it was made out of marble that was veined in a deep, rich blue.

She felt her cheeks go warm at what a few of the figures were doing to each other. It wasn’t exactly violence, per se. She looked away from those statues as fast as possible.

Lyon touched her elbow, and she jumped, startled out of her reverie. He pulled his hand back.

“Sorry—sorry.” She smiled. “I’m not used to being around people. Anything touches me, it’s probably trying to kill me.”

“I cannot even fathom what your life has been like, Miss Ember. Come. Let’s go inside. I’m sure there are many people who would be very interested to meet you.”

“Why do I get the feeling that’s not necessarily a good thing?” She raised an eyebrow at him.

He chuckled. “Because you seem wise.” He headed up the stairs and toward the gigantic arched doors. She had no other choice but to follow him. She felt so tiny—no, puny—in the shadow of such a structure. The column bases were almost taller than she was. She followed the lines of the gold flutes up so far she nearly fell over.

Lyon caught her arm again as she staggered.

He shook his head, smiling at her. Like how a parent might be amused at the antics of a child. I guess I am a kid to him. He’s twenty-three hundred years old.

The landing of the stairs gave way to an equally massive foyer. Paintings in gold frames decorated every wall. Statues venerating creatures and humans alike lurked in darkened alcoves or lit by arrays of candles. The building felt holy. “Is this another church?”

“No. It is dedicated to the House of Fate. Those who watch the world to understand the threads of the past and present and might use them to predict the future.” Lyon kept the same patient, unoffended tone as he answered yet another one of her questions. At least he didn’t seem to mind her pestering him.

She paused. “Wait.”

Something felt wrong.

Out of place.

She shook her head and then looked up at Lyon. Then, it hit her. “You bastard!” Her confusion was replaced immediately with anger. “You hypnotized me!”

“I, well…yes.” He cleared his throat. “You asked for a demonstration of how I could harm you if I wished, and that I was choosing not to. So I made exactly such a demonstration.”

“That isn’t what I meant!” She shoved him hard with both hands. She knocked him enough off balance that he took half a step back to catch himself. She was certain it was entirely out of shock and not because she was even remotely strong enough to budge him.

“You see, well—”

“I should stab you a second time!” She glared up at the King of Blood in annoyance. “Make you earn your bloody namesake.”

“And they call you the nice one,” a man said from the exit of the foyer into the main hall. Ember had been so focused on Lyon that she hadn’t noticed him at first.

He wore a long gray peacoat and a bowler hat. She hadn’t ever seen a suit like his that wasn’t tattered, in pieces, burnt, or bloodstained. The man wore a purple mask over half his face, etched in gray symbols. The style matched the ink on Lyon’s face, and in fact, all the ink she’d seen on people from Under. His expression was austere and aloof, and he watched Lyon and Ember. “What did you do to annoy your new friend?”

Lyon stammered. “I—merely—it was a request on her part to prove a point, and—”

Ember shoved Lyon again. This time he swayed but didn’t budge. “Don’t you ever dare do that again.”

How an inhuman, freakishly tall, impossibly pale, immortal king of another world could possibly look sheepish was beyond her. “Duly noted, Miss Ember.”

“And who is your new friend, my king?” The man in gray arched his visible eyebrow at her. “Someone from the House of Flames has—” He paused. His expression became far more interested as he stepped closer to them. “Wait…where are your marks?”

Ember shrank back. She debated bolting. “I have none.”

“What?” The man took another step toward her. “No…that’s not possible.”

Before she could turn and run, Lyon stuck his arm behind her, stopping her from retreating any farther. “You are safe, Miss Ember. This is Maverick. He is no threat to you.”

“You say that like I’m going to believe you.” Ember tightened her grip on the handle of her knife. “Back away, both of you. Please.”

To her surprise, the two men obeyed. Maverick lifted his hands in a show of harmlessness and took one careful step back. “Forgive me. This simply makes little sense—although it seems logic has gone out the window today. I am Maverick, as Lyon has introduced me.” He bowed, folding one arm in front of his waist. “I am the Elder and regent of the House of Words. Who, might I ask, are you?”

“Ember. Just…Ember. From Gioll.” She kept her hand on her knife.

“Gioll?” Maverick glanced to Lyon. “Truly, what is happening?”

“I fear I came here to find out.” Lyon shook his head. “I came to consult Ini and the Orrery. To see if it might

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