The next morning I jerked awake as the door to the room flew open. The Dreamer called Nicolai strode into the room and yanked me from the floor.

  “Breakfast needs making,” he growled, pulling me towards the door.

  “Take your hands off of her,” Donavan said, his voice low and menacing.

  I hadn’t seen him get off the bed, but he was blocking the doorway.

  “Move,” the man threatened, still gripping my arm with one hand. In the other, a bright ball of blue static began to grow.

  Donavan barely glanced at it. “I will not,” he said.

  Nicolai hurled the ball of light towards him. I gasped, but Donavan was too fast. Before I could blink, he was behind Nicolai, wrenching him away from me. He slammed Nicolai against the wall, his arm pressed against his throat.

  “Donavan, don’t,” I said, fearful of what would happen to him if he killed Nicolai.

  “Why not?” said Donavan, still choking the man.

  Nicolai’s hands tore at Donavan’s arm. His face was beginning to turn blue. Donavan leaned into him, squeezing the life out of him.

  “Donavan, no!” I shouted at him.

  “Enough,” hissed a low voice from the doorway. Instantly my vision went dark, and I knew that a Changeling was in the room. I heard a crash, and I could see again. Nicolai was on the floor, gasping for breath, clutching his throat. Donavan was standing motionless, his eyes still blank.

  “You will be punished for this,” Narul said. “You and the girl.”

  “No, not her,” said Donavan. Even though he still could not see, he took a step towards the Changeling.

  The Changeling let out a hiss, and Donavan jerked away from him, his eyes wincing. He gritted his teeth together.

  “It was me,” Donavan said. “Leave her alone!”

  The Changeling laughed, a high pitched, screeching sound. It sent shivers down my spine.

  “I will do what I want with the girl,” he said, walking towards Donavan. Donavan reeled away, hands clutching his head.

  “Don’t hurt her! Please!” Donavan said.

  The Changeling gave a high, screeching laugh. “A ‘please.’ That’s better,” he taunted, “but not quite how it should be. Don’t worry, though. We’ll get it right. You will learn. You both will.”

  The Changeling turned to look at me, and it felt as though his white eyes were boring into me. Even though Soren still had my emotions suppressed, I felt the hatred of the other Changelings flaring to life inside me.

  The Changeling’s eyes narrowed, then he chuckled. At the sound, a hiss pushed its way through my teeth. Shocked, I clamped my lips shut.

  The Changeling smirked. “Excellent,” he said. “You will be wonderful.”

  He laid a long white finger on Donavan’s arm. Donavan stiffened, jaw tight and fists clenched, but followed the Changeling from the room without a sound. I started to follow, but hands grasped me from behind.

  “If it wasn’t for Cyrus’ orders…” Nicolai growled at me, his fingers brushing the side of my face and sliding along my throat, leaving the threat dangling. “Breakfast still isn’t made!”

  He grabbed my arm and hauled me out of the attic and down the stairs. Cyrus was sitting in the same spot he had been the day before. He looked up when we came down the stairs.

  “Ahh, our new little kitchen maid,” he said. His voice was light, but he looked at me with wary eyes. He glanced past me to Soren who still crouched in his cage next to where I was standing at the bottom of the stairs.

  I realized that there were no Changelings in the room. Cyrus seemed to know what I was thinking.

  “Oh, he will do his job,” he said, head inclining towards Soren. “He knows what Narul will do to him if he disobeys. I am sure he is not eager for a repeat of what happened to him yesterday after his mistake. But poor Nicolai. No one should have to go through the pain of a Tethering more than once.”

  Nicolai’s hand tightened on my arm.

  “Not now, Nicolai,” said Cyrus. “You can do what you want with her once she helps me destroy Wendellia.”

  “I will never help you,” I growled at him. I shook free of Nicolai and crouched down in front of Soren, gripping the bars of the cage where he was sitting. His legs were drawn up against his chest; his arms were wrapped around them. His head rested on his knees, the same as the day before. “Soren,” I whispered.

  Nicolai grasped my shoulder, pulling me to my feet. “Breakfast!” he ordered, pulling me across the room.

  I kept my eyes on Soren, and finally, he looked up. I cringed at the look in his eyes. He seemed utterly defeated. He stared straight ahead, his eyes dead.

  I turned away. I could not look at him anymore. I had promised to help him, and I had failed. Tears filled my eyes, but I quickly blinked them away. Crying would only make things worse here.

  Nicolai pulled me out of the inn. The sky was just beginning to grow light. The fresh morning was marred by smoke in the air. It smelled like death and rotten flesh.

  We crossed the village square to a long, low building. Nicolai stopped at the doorway, but pushed me inside. Several people were working over a whole line of wood-burning stoves. The heat in the room was oppressive, even though all of the windows were wide open, allowing the faint morning light to enter.

  A young woman stepped up to me, and I recognized Donavan’s cousin. I shrank away from her, remembering what she had done to Keegan. Regret filled her eyes, and I remembered what I had felt from her yesterday.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Here.” She handed me a long metal ladle. I followed her down the line of stoves. I could see a wide variety of food cooking, and realized that the feast Cyrus had been having the day before was his regular meal. The people at the stoves cast furtive glances at me, all filled with pity. I stopped looking at them, afraid that I would break down.

  Donavan’s cousin stopped at the last stove, picked up another ladle and began scooping porridge out of one of the pots and dumping it into a bowl.

  “I am Maya,” she said, her voice gentle.

  I nodded without saying anything. We ladled porridge in silence for several moments.

  “I am sorry for what I did to your friend,” Maya said, her accent reminding me of Donavan’s.

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  “I know,” I replied. “I felt it even yesterday.” I gave her a tentative smile.

  “A Trader,” Maya said, wonder filling her voice. Several of the cooks looked at us when she said it.

  “What…?” I asked, but she simply shook her head, a frightened warning in her eyes.

  “Do you know how Donavan is?” she asked. I looked away from her.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “Narul has him,” I said. “I’m so sorry. He was trying to defend me.”

  “It would have happened regardless,” she said quietly. “Don’t blame yourself.” She gave a little, sad laugh. “He is always getting into trouble trying to help people.”

  “Do you spend a lot of time Dreamwalking with Donavan?” I asked quietly.

  “I did, before Cyrus had me Tethered here. I ruled with him in Mareeja.”

  “You ruled with him?”

  “Yes. He did not tell you? Well, it does not surprise me. He is too modest. Donavan is the king of a vast and powerful nation in a dream world called Mareeja. We spend most of our time there.”

  “That must be amazing!” I said.

  “It is. He worked hard to become the king, and he loves the people there. He faced many challenges to win the right to rule the country and its people. He is the best sort of king, and the people there love him.”

  I worked in silence for several minutes, seeing Donavan in a new light. I realized that there were so many things I did not, and could not, understand about him.

  “What will happen to you in the real world, now that he is stuck here?” I finally asked.

  Maya’s eyes tightened. “I do not know,” she said.

  We grew quiet once more. Soon people began coming to the makeshift kitchen, and we handed them bowls of food through the windows.

  “Cyrus takes good care of his soldiers,” I observed aloud.

  “These are not his soldiers,” Maya answered. “They are his Dreamwalkers.”

  I was shocked. About twenty people came to the window, men and women of all different ages, but none as young as Soren.

  “So many,” I said when we had given all of them food. Maya and I sat at a small table at the end of the long room, eating the last bowls of oatmeal.

  Maya nodded. “Many of them are new,” she said. “Most of them were Tethered after Cyrus recaptured Soren. But I think Soren has found a way to keep Dreamwalkers from entering Wendellia. There has not been a new Dreamwalker here in weeks.”

  “Don’t the Changelings punish him for it?” I asked.

  She nodded, her eyes sad. “He will not give in. It is the only thing they cannot get him to do.”

  “Maya,” I asked tentatively, “what exactly do the Changelings do?”

  A look of dread filled her eyes before she looked away, refusing to tell me.

  “Maya, please,” I whispered desperately. “It’s going to happen to me soon. I have to know.”

  She shook her head. “It is better if you do not know.”

  “Maya…” I began, but she stopped me.

  “I will not speak of it.”

  We spent the whole day cooking, elaborate meals for Cyrus, simpler ones for the other Dreamers. Maya whispered to me what each of their powers were as they came to the window. Most had fighting powers like hers and Nicolai’s, ones that caused damage. One man could fly, and another woman could make herself and others invisible. All of them had the look in their eyes that Maya and Soren had – a combination of fear and hopelessness.

  “None of them want to be here,” Maya whispered to me. “Some do not mind doing what Cyrus orders, but none of them want to be trapped here.”

  When evening came, Maya told me I should return to the building where I had slept the night before. As I stepped into the open space between the kitchen and the inn, the chatter that had filled the courtyard stopped. Every eye watched me as I walked towards Cyrus’ headquarters. Some people even reached their fingertips to their foreheads before quickly dropping them and glancing around nervously.

  As I stepped into the common room of the inn I could hear the people outside begin to stir. Whispers of “Trader” reached me, and I saw Cyrus smile wryly as he heard them.

  “It seems the word is out,” he said. “Ah well, people would have known sooner or later. Secrets never keep in Wendellia.” He motioned for me to sit down at the table with him. I hesitated, but his eyes narrowed, so I complied.

  “Eat,” he commanded.

  The bountiful meal I had helped prepare earlier was spread on the table. I didn’t touch the food.

  “I assure you, it is not poisoned,” he said, picking up a piece of meat with his fingers and taking a bite.

  “It wouldn’t kill you even if it was,” I pointed out.

  “True,” Cyrus said, eyeing me curiously. “How much did Emilia tell you about me?”

  I shrugged.

  “Lies, I’m sure,” Cyrus said. “She always did favor my sister over me.”

  “Your sister?” I asked, confused.

  “Victoria,” Cyrus said. “Eat.”

  I tentatively picked up a piece of bread and took a bite. Cyrus had no reason to Tether me here if he was just going to kill me.

  “Victoria is your sister?” I asked.

  Cyrus nodded. “She got off easy when I killed her. She will get what she deserves, once I’m free of this place, for turning me into a pariah across so many Dreamworlds. Do you know what it is to be rejected by someone you love?”

  I shrugged uncomfortably, remembering all too well being abruptly cut out of Keegan’s life.

  “You have some experience with that, I see,” Cyrus said shrewdly. “Then you can understand what I am doing here.”

  “No,” I said, firmly. “I cannot. You are hurting scores of people.”

  “Who?” he asked. “The dream people? They aren’t real.”

  “What about all of the Dreamwalkers?” I demanded.

  “What about them?”

  “You’ve trapped them here!” I said, my voice rising. “You’ve trapped me here!”

  “I am Tethered here as well,” he said.

  “You only come here when you Dream,” I said. “You are not Tethered here the way I am. The way Soren is.”

  Cyrus smiled. “I am not Tethered here the way you are. I am bound here even more tightly.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “How shall I explain? When you fall asleep, what do you see?”

  I looked away from him. “Myself.”

  “Elaborate,” he commanded.

  I glared at him. “I see myself in the real world.”

  “What makes you dream of that?”

  I thought for a moment. “The connecting threads. That’s why you leave one last connecting,” I finally whispered.

  “Exactly. I don’t have that.”

  I stared at him blankly.

  He laughed at my expression. “Yes, I have left the real world forever.”

  “Why?” I asked, aghast.

  “I like it in the Dream Worlds much better, and it makes what I’m doing much easier.”

  I looked at Soren. He was staring at Cyrus in shock.

  Cyrus looked at him. “If you hadn’t escaped, I would have finished destroying Wendellia long ago. Then you would have been released.”

  Soren’s head jerked. “What?” he whispered.

  “Oh yes,” Cyrus said, laughing softly. “Emilia has never told you?” he asked, his tone mocking. “If a dream is destroyed, it releases anyone Tethered there.”

  “I don’t believe it,” I said. “Emilia said you are destroying Wendellia as revenge against Victoria.”

  “Foolish girl,” he replied. “There are easier ways to get back at Victoria than spend years destroying her world, although it does have the added side effect of causing her agony. Overall, I want the same thing Soren wants, to leave this forsaken place.”

  I didn’t know what to say. Soren was staring at him with an ashen face.

  Cyrus chuckled cruelly. “Maybe now you’ll help me,” he said to Soren. “It’s the only way to save yourself.”

  “And you,” he said, turning to me, “you promised to help Soren, yes? This is the best way to do it. As soon as Wendellia is destroyed, he will be released, as will you and Donavan, and all of the other Dreamwalkers. You would be helping them all.”

  “What about all the people in Wendellia?” I asked finally, thinking of Cyntia and Robert, Tressa and Ethan, Lissette and her father.

  “They aren’t real,” Cyrus said, shrugging his wide shoulders. “They aren’t connected to anyone, their deaths would hurt no one.”

  “The same could be said of you,” I pointed out.

  Cyrus’ eyes narrowed. “So, you will not help me.”

  I looked at Soren, at what Cyrus had done to him. I thought of the stench of death that hung around the camp and the look of fear in everyone’s eyes. What he said made sense, but it felt wrong. Destroying Wendellia would be releasing him, releasing that, onto the rest of the Dream Worlds.

  “Never,” I said. “And I will do everything in my power to stop you.”

  “I see,” he said. “Well then, I will have to see what the Changelings can do with you.” He looked to see what my reaction would be. My heart was pounding, but I stared him straight in the face.

  “And, I would remind you,” he added, “I am invincible here.” He laughed. “I can’t be stopped. Even by you, Trader.”

  I stood up and walked away.