Four castles. Just like the stories he'd heard, each one represented an element. The Castle of Air looked like it was made of crystal, the moonlight making the facets glitter silver. It shimmered at its foundation, as if instead of a moat it was circled by a twisting, cycling wind.

The Castle of Water shone as well , but the gleam of its wal s was obviously a complicated series of waterfal s, shaped and directed by the castle's angles and channel points. Even at this distance, the cascades reflected silver and blue. The top of the hil was a body of water, and the castle sat on it, instead of a land mass.

The Castle of Fire was unmistakable, a torchlike flame shooting up into the darkness, haloed with an aura of gemlike deep reds, purples and browns. Its moat was a flow of lava.

Since the Earth castle had less reflective surfaces, it was hard to determine its features, even with vampire sight. The grand silhouette was lit only by the lights of its inhabitants, but Jacob envisioned wal s of clay, turrets covered with moss, trailing ivy and braided vines instead of drawbridge chains. Idly, he wondered if any of them had a dragon.

Silly knight. You didn't even bring a lance.

Lyssa's fingers whispered over his temples, helping him focus. The clean air had a sweet, wild taste. An indescribable world bursting with life energy, unfettered, brimming with magic. No wonder the dryad was so overcome. She'd spent two decades of her life without this . . . lifeblood. He'd detected a mere wisp of it when he'd held her in his arms. Her essence was intertwined with all the life here.

Magic existed in the human world, but it was an echo, a memory of what it had once been when their two worlds had been joined. Mere rivulets, trickling out the seams of the solid locked doors that divided them. A spark of it must survive in every soul, because Jacob felt a recognition now that brought a tangle of joy and sorrow together.

The dryad turned toward him, her smal mouth pressed into a line, those tears running down her face stil . She wore nothing, her long body a smooth sculpture, pale skin colored only by the soft pink of nipples and sex. She had a pendant around her neck. It had been dul stone when she'd stepped out of her tree, but now it glowed green and amber, a luster like the heat energy of a banked hearth fire.

Keeping her gaze on them, she removed it, laying the object at Jacob's feet. Then, in a blink, she was gone, moving swiftly across the field. The wings that had been like crumpled paper against her spine now snapped out like a geisha's fans, a flash of green and gold color. She moved only a foot above the grasses, as Essie had described. The fireflies were a trail of glitter behind her, in close pursuit.

“Do you think she gave us that as proof that we brought her here?” Jacob mused.

“How would she know we freed her to prove something to the queen?” Lyssa responded.

“Perhaps it was a way of offering thanks.” Jacob bit back a groan as he managed to sit up.

As he did, he picked up the pendant, feeling its warmth. Sliding the chain through his fingers, he lifted it, threaded it over Lyssa's head and then situated it in the pleasing val ey of her breasts. His fingers rested there, over her heartbeat.

“According to the old lore,” he said, “the Fae believe saying thank you is an insult. Instead, you give gifts, tokens of appreciation. But it would have been helpful if she'd stuck around, at least until we meet the queen.”

“If I'm right, and the queen put her there, then perhaps not having her with us is less confrontational.”

She helped him stand, then surprised him by removing the necklace. As she went to her toes to put it around his neck, he bent his head obligingly, sliding his hands to her hips to steady them both, but said, “Isn't that your trophy to bring to the Fae queen?”

“Perhaps, but your newest female admirer laid it at your feet. Plus, as my servant, you're supposed to carry my things anyway, right?”

He considered the pendant where it lay against his T-shirt, amused when her fingertips stroked the hard cleft between his pectorals in imitation of his own sensual meanderings in her cleavage. “I guess this means at least one Fae likes me, even though I'm a nasty vampire.”

“One and a half. If I count for anything in your little fan club.” Lyssa sniffed. “Of course, my love is fickle.

I wouldn't depend on it overmuch.”

That made him smile outright. Fortunately his head didn't split open. He'd gotten too used to bouncing back instantly from injury. The Fae queen had let him come, but apparently wasn't entirely happy about it.

Lyssa, on the other hand, seemed as energized as she'd been before she stepped across. Perhaps more so, because the magic in this world seemed to enhance her Fae side in a way that only magnified her captivating presence.

“You need blood,” Lyssa said.

“Not yet.” He shook his head. “I would never tel you what to do, my lady, but in this world I'd recommend treating me as you did when I first came into your service. Simply expect I'l be at your back and serve as you demand. Let me worry about the rest.”

She gave him one of her impenetrable looks.

“Seeing as you are my servant, and I value your services, if I see a need to protect you, I will . It's very hard to train a new servant. Some of them are impossible, though. It's best to simply dispose of them and start from scratch with a more docile model.”

Despite his aching body, he flashed fangs at her.

“I am ever at your disposal, my lady.” He nodded toward the castles. “I expect we'l find the queen in one of those. Looks like we can make it to any one of them at an easy pace in a couple hours.”

“Time and distance are probably more fluid here.

Whichever one we head toward, I have a feeling we'l stil end up at the one she wants us to visit.” Lyssa lifted a shoulder. “Since Keldwyn said she'd expect us by the end of the ful moon, and we're early, I don't see a need to rush, except to find you cover before dawn, which feels quite a few hours off. Apparently we arrived right after sunset.”

Jacob frowned. Lyssa could sense the rising and setting cycles here, but he couldn't at all. He supposed he could have the vampire version of jet lag, but in the mortal world, he was as aware of the time as if he had an internal Greenwich clock. When he'd first become a vampire, he'd understood why vampires never had clocks in their homes, unless put there for the convenience of human staff. But here . . . nothing.

Like his fast healing, it was something he relied upon, not just as a convenience, but for survival.

Regardless, he put his uneasiness aside and offered Lyssa his hand. It pleased him that she took it. They headed across the sloping field, through the silver and gold flowers, down toward the edge of the forest. Each step jarred him, but he set his teeth against it. It would get better, and as soon as they were someplace less open, he'd feed.

He considered the horizon. “So do you think the Castle of Air is transparent? We could sit on the front lawn and watch the lady Fae changing clothes.”

“Leave it to the male mind to jump to the most important thing about a transparent castle.” Lyssa pinched his arm. She swung around in front of him, holding both hands now and peddling backward. Her jade eyes sparkled, her mouth curving as she looked up at him.

“My lady?”

“It feels so . . . different here. So familiar . . .” She shook her head, but let go of him to turn a ful circle, her arms outspread. “Did you notice, as weak as she was, how our dryad was walking, her eyes sparkling? There's a vitalizing force here for Fae blood. It's like coming to a place you've missed for a very long time, where you thought you'd never be welcome again.”

Her lips curved. “It makes me want to dance. I have a great urge to . . . frolic.”

“Many people would drop their jaws if they saw you frolic.”

“But not you.”

“I saw you dress up like a slutty teenager and go to the mal . My lady has given me the pleasure of seeing the girl inside the woman.”

“And you will never let her live it down.”

“Not even if I live beyond eternity.” She sobered. “I can't imagine what it must have done to her, being disconnected from this for so long.”

“Our world had enough magic to shelter her. No matter Keldwyn's cynicism, the magic is stil there, my lady. Just hidden deep where only the eyes that can see it will find it. Like Essie's.”

“And yours.” She slid under his arm, putting hers around his waist, so she gave him some reluctantly needed support as they made their way toward the forest edge. The dark gloom cal ed to him, to what was in his blood. The vampire blood.

“You knew about the Fae propensity to give gifts, instead of thanks. How did you know that? Is it a class all Irishmen have to take?”

He snorted. “My parents were raised on the stories, and they passed them on to their sons. After they died, my aunt kept up with it, probably to remind us of our mother. I can't say for sure what parts are truth or fiction, but a lot of the ones we were told have been around a very long time. Maybe the tel ing of them feeds that thread between our worlds, even if the information isn't a hundred percent accurate. It's the spirit of the tel ing that matters, the desire to believe the tales.” He didn't like how much he had to lean on her.

“Jacob.”

“I know. When we get to the forest, I'l feed. I'm sorry, my lady.”

“The only reason to apologize is for your ridiculous need to apologize. Tel me more of the stories you were told, the ones you think are true.”

“Many are about impulsive lads or lasses who wandered too deep into the knol s and came upon a fairy ring. If they stepped inside it, they were in the Fae world, where time passes far differently. Though they knew to avoid the rings, a lad wouldn't be able to resist the pretty fairy he saw dancing there.” He grunted as he stumbled over a root, and her arm tightened on him. “He'd be so wrapped up in her beauty, he would dance and dance and dance with her, until he wasted away. When the Fae night waned, she'd let him go, for to her he was only a dance partner. Thrust back into our world, he'd find centuries had passed, all he knew of his own world gone.”