I murmured the same soft command that had opened the tall doors and heaved a sigh of relief when they slid silently closed on the thundering rush of snow beyond. Would the avalanche I’d started reach the castle? Pile up outside the doors, sealing us in here more securely than any bolt? I waited for Christian to demand to know how I’d shut them, but he was so engrossed in his surroundings, he’d not even noticed.

“What now?” His fascinated gaze kept sliding between the frail woman in his arms and the interior of the dark fortress.

“Now we head for the Silver in the king’s boudoir,” I said.

“Why? I can’t go through and neither can she.”

“I can. And I can get help and bring them back to the mirror to talk to you. We’ll make plans to get you out, figure out how and where to meet.”

He cocked his head and studied me a moment. “There’s a thing you should know, lass. My truth sensor works just fine here in the Unseelie prison.”

“So?”

“What you just said wasn’t truth.”

“I’m going to go through the mirror. Truth?” I said impatiently.

He nodded.

“And I’m going to get help and bring them back for you. Truth?”

He nodded again.

“Then what the hell is the problem?” I had a lot on my mind. Delays were untenable. Standing still, my mind began to think. I needed to keep moving. I couldn’t bear to look at the woman in his arms. Couldn’t handle thinking what looking at her made me think.

His eyes narrowed. They were full black again. There was a time when it would have made me nervous, but I doubted anything would make me nervous ever again. I was beyond stress, beyond fear, beyond reach.

“Tell me you plan to save me,” he ordered.

That was easy. With each passing day, I understood Jericho better. People didn’t ask the right questions. And if you answered enough of their wrong ones, by the time they ever got around to a right one, you could just snap their head off and shut them up. How many times had he done that to me? I was developing a grudging respect for his tactics. Especially now that I had something to hide.

“I plan to save you,” I said, and I didn’t need a truth detector to hear the ring of sincerity in my voice. “And I will do it as quickly as possible. It will be my priority to get you out of here.” It would. I needed him. More than I’d ever understood.

“Truth.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I don’t know. Something.” He shifted the queen in his arms.

She wore a sparkling white gown. I knew that dress. Who’d selected it for her? Had she chosen it? How and why? I refused to look at her. I snapped my gaze from her dress to Christian’s face.

“Tell me again why you screamed,” he fished.

He was getting too close for comfort. But I knew this game. Barrons had taught me well. “I was frightened.”

“Truth. Why?”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Christian, I told you already! Are we going to stand here all day while you interrogate me, or are we going to get out of here?” Beyond the fortress, the avalanche crashed and roared. It was nothing like the roar I felt building in me. “She wasn’t what I expected, okay?” That was certainly the truth! “Even though you told me it was her in the coffin, I expected it to be the Unseelie King,” I tossed, to get him off the scent.

There was just enough sincerity in what I’d said to appease him. But barely. “If you’re somehow lying to me …” he warned.

He’d do what? By the time he figured out what I was doing, it’d be too late. Besides, I really wasn’t someone he wanted to be threatening, no matter who he was turning into or how powerful he was becoming. I’d just found out I was way more terrifying than anything he could possibly be turning into.

“The king’s bedchamber is this way,” I said coolly. “And don’t threaten me. I’m sick of being used and pushed around.”

Christian dallied. There was no other word for it. He was fascinated by the Unseelie King’s fortress, and his Keltar duties as Fae lorekeeper had been bred into him since birth, despite any misgivings he might have about what was happening to him. He took detailed mental notes on everything he saw, to pass on later to his clan. I was glad he didn’t have pen or paper, or I might never have gotten him to the mirror. “Look at this, Mac! What do you think it means?”

I glanced unwillingly where he pointed. It was a door that was much smaller than the others. There was an inscription above the arch. It was a powerful ward. The king had kept things in there he’d never wanted loosed on the world. The ward had been broken long ago. Great. I just hoped they weren’t on my world. I resumed walking, staring straight ahead, retracing my earlier steps. Unlike Christian, I didn’t want to see a damned thing.