I'm going to die.

Dom leads me away from the room once all the wizards have enrolled their thralls in the tournament. We don't say a word, mostly because I can't and because he's not speaking to me.

Once we walk through the doors, he takes a left. This leads to a long hallway with doors on either side. This hallway stretches off into the distance. There must be at least one hundred doors on either side.

He stops at the third one down on the right, turning the knob and pushing it open. My legs power me forward, move me towards the bed and I get a sinking sensation in my stomach. I sit on the bed and move to my side so that I'm lying on my back. Dom steps up beside me, looking down. The unhappiness in his eyes has grown.

“We won't speak until tomorrow,” Dom says. “I'm sorry for all this.”

He says he's sorry, but I don't really believe it. I don't feel any sense of contrition in his voice.

He crouches down beside the bed, pulling something out from under it. He then stands and lifts my arm. He pulls back the robes and slips a needle into my wrist, taping it down as soon as it's in. I don't feel any of it.

He looks at me, I guess seeing the confusion in my eyes. “It's an IV. You need to be hydrated and fed. I can't take any risks.”

I want to ask him how long I'm going to be here.

He looks down at me one last time, opens his mouth to say something, but shrugs instead.

Dick.

He walks out of the room and leaves me there, hooked up to an IV, staring up at a glass ceiling with nothing but blackness on the other side. In the reflection of the glass, I see a girl, held captive in her own body, betrayed by her own limbs as well as her familiar.

Speaking of my familiar, my eyes search the room for her, lock onto her lying somewhere just out of sight to my left. I can see her forked tail swishing through the air.

Silvy can't read my mind, but she can feel my emotions.

Maybe I can force her to free me. Maybe if I annoy her enough, she’ll get me out of this, maybe she'll even help me escape.

Silvy, you goofy little rat. When we get out of here, I'm gonna wrap you up in a blanket. I'm gonna give you all the love you never had growing up. I know it was dark in the Shadow Vaile, but there's no need for darkness anymore. We can turn on all the lights in Sulis. We can buy some special spotlights to light you directly, really bathe you in light. So much light that no darkness will be able to be seen. You won't even cast a shadow.

From the other side of the room, Silvy responds. It starts as a low meow but slowly grows deeper as I continue.

I'm gonna attach Ivy to your neck. You and she can be best friends. She'll always be talking to you, always be keeping you company. You'll never be alone again. You'll never be able to go anywhere without Ivy talking to you. Isn't that wonderful?

The growl deepens into a roar and Silvy appears on my chest, baring her teeth at me.

“Do you find this amusing?” she asks, but her voice doesn’t have the high-pitched tone it usually carries. Now it's lower, guttural. Saliva drips off her jaw, pooling on the robe I'm still wearing.

I'm gonna take all of your buttons and give them away. I know about your collection. I know about the Mason jars filled with buttons you've stolen. Think about all the needy children who are missing buttons. There's a veritable whole world full of people missing buttons and I'm gonna give all of them back. I'm also gonna put a muzzle on you so you can't drink any more blood. It will be a witchstone muzzle too so that every time you even think about drinking blood, it'll shock you. I'll put little mittens on your paws so that you'll always slide around on hard surfaces. I'll also tie a bell around your tail, that way you can never steal another button. I think Ivy's really gonna think you're cute once I get those mittens on you.

“Enough!” Silvy roars. “The stench of sweetness is going to make me vomit. Stop it.”

Once we get you in those mittens, I'm gonna put a little sweater on you too. I'll make sure that it's pink. Your favorite color.

Silvy screams and vanishes. I can feel claws on the back of my neck, inside of my hood. Needles slip out from the back of my neck and the collar comes free. I gasp in a deep breath, finally able to control my own breathing.

“I'll never forgive you,” Silvy says. She disappears from my hood and reappears at the far side of the room.

I smile at her. “I'll never forgive you for leaving me in this collar for as long as you did.”

I push it aside and rub the place where the bloodstones touched my throat. Even though the needles were inside of me, for some reason the place where the bloodstones touched feels worse, sore almost.

Leaving the collar on the bed, I stand up, wobbling on my own legs, not used to being in control of them after so much walking under Dom's control. After grabbing the IV stand, I move over to the door, turn the knob there, jiggle it, pull at it, before frantically beating on the surface of the door.

There's a soft click from the other side and the door opens. Before me stands one of the creatures Dom called an Illween.

“Hello,” the Illween says. I can't quit staring at the place where the Illweens nose should've been but wasn't. “What do you desire?”

“I desire to leave.”

She turns stiffly to look behind her. I glance in that direction as well and see nothing but darkness. I'm no longer looking out into the hallway. I have a sinking sensation that I'm staring into a part of the Shadow Vaile. I look down at the Illween who stares back at me, looking both bored but also engaged.

I remember Dom's statement about the Illween, I remember the way wizards seem to dislike the Shadow Vaile.

I step into my room and gesture for the Illween to enter.

She does, stepping just inside the door and closing it behind her. “I can get you anything you wish to eat. Or drink.”

Silvy’s back is to me. She's pouting. Still mad at the love emotions I'd sent her.

“Well,” I say, “okay.”

I really don't know what to do. I can have anything I want to eat, but that's not what I want. I want to leave. I want to get away from this place.

I gesture at my wrist where the IV needle is inserted. “Can you remove this?”

The Illween shakes her head.

“What's your name?” I ask.

She stares at me in that disconcerting way for half a beat before answering. “We don't have names until we’re given them.”

“Okay,” I say. “Fine. I'll call you Nameless then.”

She nods. “I will not respond to that.”

I smile. “Okay. Well, I guess get me food.”

“Again, what would you like?”

I run through a list of my favorite foods and things to drink and the Illween bustles away, returning as soon as the door closes. She opens it bearing a giant tray of everything I listed. Absolutely everything down to the triple brewed ginger beer from Trader Joe's.

A giggle escapes when I think about her entering Trader Joe's, trying to find the ginger beer.

I glance over at the collar, my stomach rumbling. If the Illween isn't going to help me escape, I need to come up with some way to control myself while still giving the appearance of being controlled by Dom. I pick up the collar, look at the needles on the back. They're much longer than I expect. I shiver involuntarily.

I finger one of the needles and try to bend it, but it doesn't budge.

I look at the Illween, still standing by the tray, almost as though she's waiting for me to finish. I hold out the collar and point at the needles.

“Can you break these off?”

She takes the collar, grabs one of the needles in her tiny fist, and wrenches it off. She does this for all of the other needles. She hands back the collar in one hand and the needles in the other.

I take the collar and tell her, “You can keep the needles. I don't need them.”

She nods and slips them into a pocket of her apron.

I eat and eat until I can eat no more. With that finished, I pull up the pillows against the back of the bed and sit there, staring at the Illween who's still standing by the cart.

“What happens now?” I ask.

“You go to sleep,” she says in a quiet voice. “You sleep for as long as you need to.”

“But the tournament?” My eyes are already growing heavy.

“That doesn't matter now, the Illween said. All that matters is rest.”

I look at the food. I look at the IV. Either one of them could be the culprit. I look at the Illween. For all I know, she's casting some sort of sleeping spell on me.

I try to keep my eyes open, but as they slip shut, the Illween creeps closer.