Remy didn’t return to class for the rest of the day. All the teachers seemed to expect Ainsel would know what had happened to him. She didn’t, of course. She knew he wasn’t in the bathroom she’d left him in, but he hadn’t been considerate enough to furnish her with his forwarding address when he left the school.

Her English teacher hadn’t much liked that remark—Ainsel wasn’t usually a snarky one—but somebody else had stifled a giggle, much to Ainsel’s surprise. Sam, she realized. Alizabeth’s girlfriend, and the supposed reason Zoë’s old friend had stopped talking to them last year. Tyler had slid almost seamlessly into the spot Alizabeth had occupied, but Ainsel knew that Zoë still carried a grudge for Alizabeth’s abandonment.

Sam met her gaze and smiled briefly. The shock almost cut through the strange growing terror Ainsel felt about the plan to meet a unicorn after school. Even being acknowledged by anybody other than Zoë and the faculty was rare; a genuine smile was positively exotic.

It didn’t last. As class ended, Sam was talking to Tyler. After she finished, she turned away and Ainsel once again met her eyes. Sam’s lip curled in disgust and she looked away.

Same old same old. She couldn’t be upset about it because she was too busy being upset about unicorns.

Unicorn. It wasn’t nearly as scary a word as werewolf. Unicorns were nice. Werewolves ate people.

Except she knew it wasn’t true. Possibly some unicorns were nice. But some weren’t. Sometimes unicorns were dreadful. She didn’t want to think about it. She didn’t want to meet one. She wanted to run away. But running away was deadly. Remy had told her that and she believed him. All she could do was huddle at her desk and try to keep the churning of her stomach from turning into actual nausea.

Breathe, darling. It was a voice in her head: a little like Andrea, a little like Kishar, and a memory she’d never had before. The fragment came from the same place as her sense of the werewolves, her sense that unicorns were something to be afraid of. She listened to it and concentrated on her breath.

By the time Civics was over, she’d managed to regain a semblance of self-control. She’d taken the fear and anxiety and put it in a cupboard in her mind. She’d also had to bundle up a few other things, like self-preservation and concern for others, so that all that was left was a mild curiosity and an awareness that just out of her mental eye was a raging ball of emotion. Everything else was numb. She’d take it. It was better than snapping at Zoë.

Her final class was History. As she settled into her desk, the teacher got a phone call. “Ainsel, the office has asked for you. Take your books.”

Wondering, but not very much, Ainsel put her stuff into her locker and wandered down to the office.

Tyler was leaning against the glass window between the office and the rest of the school. “Hi, Ainsel,” he said, flashing her a sparkling smile. “You’re with me.”

Stopping short, Ainsel said, “What do you mean?”

“I have to do an interview for one of my projects. I decided to interview you. Hey, it gets you out of class early, right?”

Ainsel gave Tyler a suspicious look. “I’m just going to check. Because you’re not above a prank now and then.”

“Go right ahead.” Tyler gestured at the office door.

Inside the office the three office staff were chatting behind the big reception desk. One of them, Nancy Johnson, an older woman with faded red hair who was related to Sam somehow, glanced at Ainsel. “Yes, dear? Didn’t Tyler explain?”

“Not exactly?”

“Oh, it’s for his project. For the journalism club.” Nancy had a bandage on her left hand, big and bulky like she’d sprained something.

“But why me?”

Nancy said patiently, “Don’t you know, dear?”

Ainsel winced. There was only ever one thing anybody associated with a newspaper wanted to talk to her about. Usually her foster moms kept her pretty safe, since she was a minor. But probably the same ethics didn’t apply to a newspaper run by other minors. She was glad that it was Tyler, at least.

Wait, was she? Zoë didn’t trust Tyler anymore.

Nancy bumped her bandaged hand against the counter and muffled a cry of pain, as if she wasn’t used to the injury. Ainsel frowned and without thinking, she reached out for the administrator’s hand. “What happened?”

“I cut myself on some scissors. I’ll be fine.” But she didn’t resist when Ainsel took her hand.

Instinctively, Ainsel pushed her healing touch through the bandage. She could feel the shape of the injury even though it was hidden by gauze. It wasn’t the clean slice of a scissor cut, but a ragged gash. Something had torn into Nancy Johnson’s wrist. Her power cleansed it, soothed it and knit the edges together before fading away.

Nancy’s eyes widened. She left her hand in Ainsel’s as she said, “Oh dear.” But Ainsel, suddenly self-conscious, pulled away.

“Oh, you poor child.” Nancy didn’t even look down at her hand, her gaze fixed on Ainsel. “I’ve been so… distracted.” She frowned and looked down at her desk. “I don’t know why…” She sat down with a thump, her uninjured hand going to her brow.

Afraid she’d made things worse instead of better, Ainsel said, “Be careful with that injury, Ms. Johnson. Maybe take some painkiller for it.”

“Ready to go?” Tyler spoke right behind Ainsel and she jumped.

“Yeah,” Ainsel agreed more as a way of recovering her footing after Ms. Johnson’s unexpected reaction, rather than because she was really paying attention.

“Tyler,” said Ms. Johnson, her eyes narrowing.

“Me,” said Tyler cheerfully. “I’ll be back later to finish up helping out with the filing. Come on, Ainsel, before it rains out.” He grabbed her hand. His own was cool and dry. It felt wrong, like he had ice instead of warm living blood.

Just as instinctively as before, Ainsel sent a healing pulse through their linked hands. It sank into the wrongness without even a ripple. Tyler gave her a sardonic look.

“Really, the hand?” At her bewildered look, he added, “You really have no idea, do you? Well, we’ll fix that.” He tugged her behind him out the front doors and down the sidewalk along the school’s edge.

She tried to pull her hand away, but his grip was like iron. Instead of telling him to let go, which she could tell he’d ignore, she asked, “Where are we going?”

“Out to the grove behind the school. The others are waiting there.”

“I thought this was an interview!” The sky was dark and heavy and the ground was already wet. The wind had picked up during the afternoon classes and the last of the remaining leaves had blown away, along with a few weaker branches.

He gave her another amused look. “Of course. Although we’ve got answers as well as questions. You see, Ainsel, we’re trying to solve some mysteries. These holes in the world, for example. Oh, and did you know Zoë’s parents didn’t come home last night?” Tyler gave Ainsel a cold look. “We think other people might vanish, too. Unless you can help us out.”

Stubbornly, Ainsel went back to the supposed reason for the interview. Maybe she could stop this from turning into a nightmare through sheer force of will. “What’s the journalism project, then?”

Tyler shook his head. “You really are a marvel. I couldn’t believe you were so oblivious for a long time but now… it’s hard to argue. I owe that to Remy, at least. I thought you were good at this. He realized the opposite was true.”

Remembering Remy in the bathroom and how he’d vanished from school after that, Ainsel asked, “Is Remy’s illness another one of your ‘mysteries’ I’m supposed to help solve?”

“No, we know the answer to that one. You’ll be the means of curing him, though. If I don’t kill him first.” Once again, Tyler seemed amused more than anything. It made everything strange. It was Tyler, and he was playing a game, and everything was normal.

Except his grip on her wrist was cold and unbreakable, and he was talking about holes between worlds and Zoë’s parents—

“Wait, what happened to Zoë’s parents?” She dug her feet in, leaning back when he tried to jerk her after him. He was bigger and heavier than her, but he couldn’t literally drag her after him. Not while they were still on the sidewalk, anyhow.

“Maybe we’ll work that out. Or maybe the same thing will happen to Zoë.” He glanced down at her wrist, then let go. “Hell, maybe I’ll get her for this interview instead. She’s got secrets of her own I’d love to know. And she won’t make nearly as much trouble about coming along.”

Hah, thought Ainsel. You don’t know Zoë. But she couldn’t miss the threat under what he said. Either she came along, or something bad would happen to Zoë.

Ainsel’s wrist hurt where he’d been holding her. What worse thing would he do to Zoë? And did he also have Zoë’s parents somewhere? Or had something else happened to them?

Hopelessly, she said, “Tyler, you’re being so strange. I can’t believe you’d even hint at hurting Zoë.”

“Can’t you?” He started walking away. “You don’t really know anything, Ainsel. But you’ll learn. One way or another.”

Ainsel thought about the unicorn Zoë had met, that she and Zoë would be finding after school. Except that Tyler was going to get to Zoë first and Ainsel would be alone. Free and alone. She’d never find the unicorn that way, or understand why it frightened her so much.

The numb detachment crept over her again as Tyler kept walking. She called, “Wait.”

He turned, crossing his arms and tapping his foot like he was in a hurry.

“I’ll come. And you’ll tell me everything.”

Tyler crooked an old familiar grin. “Everything. Even who you used to be.”

Then it was like Ainsel’s own blood was ice, too. She followed Tyler and wondered, every step, if she’d shatter.

They went around the school, into the little grove of oak trees behind the science building. She stopped to slip her shoes off, because that’s what she always did when she arrived in the grove. Shoes in that tiny wood seemed like heresy. Tyler rolled his eyes as she did so, but she didn’t care. She didn’t care about much right now, except going through the motions. She’d listen to Tyler, try to answer his questions, meet up with Zoë, find this unicorn. Then, probably, the world would end. She couldn’t imagine anything beyond that point, anyhow.

There were others in the grove. Some of them were shaped like humans. Some of them weren’t. She counted five others easily: two humans and three wolves, lounging like they’d just woken up from a nap. The human closest to Ainsel was a girl, with short, dirty hair and a hungry gaze that she fixed on Tyler as she sat up.

Then Remy emerged from the shadow of one of the trees. He looked just as pale and rumpled as he had that morning. He didn’t seem to notice as the others in the grove shifted away from him. His voice was raspy as he said, “You brought her.”

“Of course,” said Tyler lightly. “Keep her here, kids.” Then he looked around as the wolves and humans yawned and spread out in a semicircle around Ainsel. “Where’s Danui?”

The short-haired girl jerked her head deeper in the gloom of the grove. “There’s a fray. They’ve been opening up all over the last couple of days.”

Annoyed, Tyler said, “Well, he can deal with it later. I need everybody here for this.”

“You do realize that if they don’t get repaired, they spread?” asked Remy, his voice acidic. “They did teach you that in your deep cover training, right?”

Tyler shrugged. “You can help him close them later. I know you can, princeling, even if you think the job is beneath you.” There was a sneer in Tyler’s voice.

The other human, a boy equally parts scrawny and dirty, gasped. “But he’s why they keep opening! His curse!”

Tyler laughed. “You believe that old story, Orli? Well, you’re out in the wild now, kids. Cling to your fairy stories if you must, but if every exile shredded the world fabric, there wouldn’t be a universe anymore.”

“And yet the frays keep opening,” Remy said evenly.

“I know, isn’t it great? It’ll be very helpful later. We ought to erase this wretched world anyhow.”

The pack of wolves and humans displayed various forms of surprise: ears flattening, backing away, and so on. But Remy said, “Everybody remembers he’s been in this damn world longer than I have, right? He’s mad.”

“No, he’s not!” flared the short-haired girl. “He isn’t a monster like you, Remy. And he’s got an amulet just like Danui—”

Remy’s eyes were wide and wild. “Let’s see it, then.”

“Relax, Jae,” said Tyler. “He’s under the curse. You can’t blame him for being paranoid.” He raised his voice and called, “Danui, leave the damn fray and get over here.”

Jae glared at Remy, but Remy kept his eyes on Tyler until Ainsel shifted her weight nervously. Then his gaze slid over to her and she froze, pinned like a butterfly by the madness in his blue eyes. Even ten feet away she could tell he was on the edge of lashing out at anything too close. The numbness that cocooned her began to unravel, leaving tendrils of searing fear flickering around her.

Then Danui appeared beside him. “I don’t think this should wait, Tyler—oh, you did get her.”

“Everybody doubts me,” said Tyler, mockingly. “If she gets away because you were off doing janitorial work, I’ll be put out.”

Danui hesitated, looking at Ainsel. His brown eyes were full of compassion. Then he bumped Remy’s shoulder affectionately. “You’ll be home soon, Remy. Your uncle will have to accept you back again.”

Ainsel’s chest hurt. “Tyler—“ she began, then didn’t know what to say.

“It’s okay to be afraid,” he said. “It’s smart. It won’t help, but it’d be depressing if you were a complete idiot all the way until the end.”

“You’re going to kill me,” she whispered.

“Yeah, eventually,” Tyler agreed. “We need what you’ve hidden away.”

Ainsel darted sideways, toward a gap between Jae and one of the wolves, leaping for freedom. But the wolf changed as she moved, shimmering into the form of a tall older man. He caught her, shoved her back to the center of the circle.

She fell to her knees. Tyler said, “Yes, sit down. You might as well be comfortable for this. We’re going to start by telling you a story. The most painless path to our goal first, because some people believe even the most awful enemies deserve civilized treatment.”

Ainsel’s eyes turned toward Remy and Danui. Remy’s hate-filled gaze was fixed on Tyler, but Danui was looking at Ainsel with sad eyes, as if determined to watch until the bitter end. She flung herself to her feet again, directly at Danui.

“Help,” she whispered, as he caught her.

“I have to save his life,” he said, very quietly. He tilted his head toward Remy. “I’m sorry.” He hesitated. “If Tyler is wrong, we’ll be able to tell before too late.” Then he gently pushed her back to the center of the circle again.

Her legs gave out beneath her. She couldn’t seem to get enough air. She tried hard to shelve her fear again, but the ball of emotion just kept unraveling and tangling her in its white hot strands. There were sparkles in her brain. She’d been trapped like this before; she’d watched somebody she loved be hurt, and she’d been helpless, and then they’d turned to her, weapons flashing.

She couldn’t be here anymore. If she couldn’t put her fear away, she had to get away herself. The darkness of her past loomed up behind her. If she could only pull that over her again—

Tyler started talking, but his words didn’t make any sense. She didn’t want to understand them. He spoke about Night Masters and their servants the wolves, and a war against creatures of glittering light and the souls they’d enslaved—

“Tyler!” said Danui, his voice throbbing with warning. The world swam around Ainsel. Something hissed and the ground shuddered. She looked around wildly and saw one of the black holes in the world opening up near her. Its far edge was close to Jae’s feet, but the werewolf girl had edged away, staring at it in horror.

Ainsel didn’t want to be here anymore.

She stared at the dark circle. It was growing: the size of a beachball, the size of a hula hoop, as wide as her bed. The pack of werewolves shouted at each other.

It was only a few inches away. A hand came down on her arm, pulling her away. She exploded into a kicking, flailing frenzy, throwing all her weight into it. Her vision filmed over and somebody—not her—cried out in pain. For a moment nobody was holding her. She fell backward and rolled toward the hole in the world. When she felt emptiness under her hand, she twisted toward it.

She couldn’t be here anymore.

She fell through.

When Ainsel vanished into the dark splotch on the ground, Tyler shouted in rage. Remy, rubbing his chest where she’d kicked him, got to his feet. “Oh well.” He turned his attention to Danui, who was staring at the fray in wide-eyed horror. “We’ll have to work something else out, Danui.”

“Um,” said Orli. “Actually, I think there’s still—”

“What are you talking about? Go after her!” Tyler snarled.

Everybody looked at Tyler in surprise. “But that’s—” began Danui.

“Do not argue with me,” said Tyler coldly. His face, once the face of an arrogantly attractive teenage boy, shifted, becoming thinner, more beautiful and more inhuman. And none of the pack argued with him, although Danui furrowed his brow and shook his head, as if trying to dislodge a bee and Jae sat down, hugging her knees.

Remy said, “Going after her would be insane.” He glanced at his companions and his own brow darkened. “What’s going on?”

Tyler ignored his question and when he spoke his voice was honey-sweet. “It would be insane, which is why you’re the only one qualified to do so. And unlike anybody else, you’ll be able to come back again. This is a golden opportunity: the world beyond this one to force her to change, and then you can simply take what we require and return. And you’ll go back to your high place again, be rid of this curse. Don’t you want that?” When Remy gave him a scornful look, Tyler went on. “Look at Danui. He doesn’t want to kill you and unless you do this, he’ll have to. Or he’ll join you in exile. And you already gave up so much for him.” There was mockery under the sweetness, as there always was any time Tyler spoke to Remy.

Remy said, “You brought her here, you’re so invested in this, you go get her. And you’d better go fast before we close the fray.” He grabbed Danui by the elbow and shook him. “Hey, Danui, wake up.”

Danui blinked at Remy, but didn’t say anything.

Tyler moved restlessly from one side to another. “The common wolves have never been good at resisting, ahahaha, strong leadership. Isn’t it a good joke? You thought your uncle’s desire to promote his own bloodline to the Border Warden was a sign of corruption. But the old kings were wary of the weakness of the common wolves for good reason.”

Remy gave him a hostile look and his posture changed. Even in their quietened state, the pack drifted away from him, like snow retreating from a flame.

Tyler spread his hands. “Aw, now, don’t look at me like that. It’s the curse talking to you again, isn’t it. Telling me I’m your enemy? But attacking me wouldn’t be a good idea, kid.”

Then, without warning, Tyler moved like a bullet train, slamming into Remy and knocking him backward, right into the fraying hole in the world. It was larger now, large enough to swallow Remy without a chance of escape. The werewolf vanished into the darkness without even a yelp.

Tyler stopped as quickly as he’d started, his hands casually in his pockets. “If he comes back with the horn, great. If he doesn’t, well, at least I got rid of trouble. Eh, Danui?”

Danui’s eyes widened. “You’re…. One of them.”

“Yes,” said Tyler. “Yes, I am. Come along now, like a good dog. We have work to do. Let’s go find out why good ol’ Zoë smells like unicorn.”