Crossing over to the Otherworld is easier for me than most people but still requires a bit of work. Once I'd packed up what I needed, I had to drive to Saguaro National Park and hike out to a remote corner of it. Here, two very faint trails intersected in a crossroads-a common marker for gates to the Otherworld. It and the human world lie very close to each other, and certain spots between the two are thinner. Of course, even a thin spot like this wouldn't always be enough for some people to make the journey in their own bodies. They might end up going in spirit or an elemental form. But me? I bore the blood of humans and of the gentry. I could therefore travel both worlds with ease, though my gentry heritage still unnerved me. It was only a recent discovery, one I had trouble coming to terms with.

Standing at the crossroads, I closed my eyes, slipping into a trance very similar to the one I used to banish the spirit yesterday. A tattoo of a greenish snake coiled around one of my arms in tribute to Hecate, the goddess who guarded transitions and chthonic magic. Invoking her, drawing on her power, I stretched my body beyond this world. A moment later, I stood in the Otherworld. In a castle. A castle that belonged to me.

I recovered myself quickly since crossover side effects almost never bothered me anymore. The room I stood in was a small sitting room, sparsely furnished. In the center of it was a rabbit paperweight, white resin with little blue flowers. It was silly, but that rabbit was imbued with my essence, meaning when I crossed over from Saguaro National Park-or any other crossroads of my choice-my body would travel to this spot rather than to some remote place.

Footsteps sounded on the outside hallway's stone floor. A moment later, a bright-eyed young woman with long blond hair peered inside. Her face split into a wide grin when she saw me.

"Your majesty," she breathed, delighted. Turning back around, she yelled down the hall. "The queen! The queen is here!"

I winced. Man, I wished I could come here without all the hype. Bad enough I had to come here at all.

Her proclamation made, Nia ran up to me, squeezing my hand. She was one of my servants. I guess you'd call her my lady-in-waiting since she was responsible for my appearance most of the time. "Everything's ready to go to the Willow Land," she told me. "I've picked out an amazing gown for you."

I shook my head, reaching into the backpack I almost always lugged around. The gentry favored heavy brocades and other elaborateness in their fashion. I wasn't up for any of that today. "I brought my own."

She stared at the dress I produced, then looked back up at me with raised eyebrows. "You're jesting, your majesty, right?" Those blue eyes pleaded. "Right?"

I was saved from an argument when others entered the room. Still staring mournfully at the dress, Nia retreated so my senior staff could talk to me. Yeah. Senior fairy staff. Three months still wasn't enough time to get used to this.

A tall, very lovely woman with glossy black braids strode in, her movements both athletic and graceful. Her name was Shaya, and I depended on her more than anyone else around here. She was my regent, handling all the dirty work I didn't want to deal with, and I was grateful and lucky to have her.

With her was Rurik, the captain of my guard. Having guards was also something that took a lot of getting used to-particularly since they always wanted to follow me around. Rurik and I had gotten off to a bad start, probably because he'd tried to rape me the first time we met. Sporting a large build and pale blond hair, he'd proven himself a capable servant, though I'd often found him fooling around with other women who worked here. I had let him know in a very pleasant voice that I'd rip him apart if I ever found out those women hadn't consented to his advances.

A few others trailed in, officials that I'd inherited with the castle when I killed its former king. I couldn't remember half their names.

"Welcome back," said Shaya, smiling. She didn't possess Nia's rapture but still seemed genuinely pleased to see me.

"Your majesty," the others intoned, bowing.

They waited for me to sit in one of the chairs, joining me a moment afterward.

"Nia says we're ready to go?" I asked, unable to hide my dismay at the upcoming trip.

"Yes," Shaya told me. "We simply await your command. At an easy pace, we should be able to do it in three hours."

I groaned. "Three hours. Do you know how crazy that is? I could do it in half that time by driving to a gateway in my own world and crossing over closer."

She regarded me indulgently, having heard this argument before. "You can't show up at Queen Maiwenn's court without your retinue."

Rurik, sprawled lazily in a chair, flashed me a grin. "It's part of your image, your majesty."

I rubbed my eyes. "Alright. Whatever. Any word on Jasmine?"

His smile faded. "No. We've still got scouting parties roaming the kingdoms, but they've found nothing."

"Incredible. You guys can make trees come to life and raise stones from the earth, but you can't find one pouty teenage girl."

"We'll find your sister," Rurik said grimly. I think he'd taken this mission as a matter of personal pride. "It may take awhile, but we'll find her."

I nodded because there was nothing else to do. The waiting infuriated me. Every moment that passed meant Jasmine, a mere fifteen years old, had another chance to get pregnant and give birth to a prophesied heir that would allegedly conquer the human world. I was subject to the same prophecy but was smart enough to use birth control.

"Anything else? How are things going otherwise?"

Shaya schooled her face to neutrality. "We manage, your majesty."

She kept her voice as blank as her expression, but I could see badly feigned disapproval on the others' faces. They didn't like the way I neglected my duties here. I suspected Shaya disapproved as well, but it didn't stop her from sparing me the details of the Thorn Land's day-to-day affairs. She knew I didn't really want to hear them, no matter my asking, so she didn't tell me.

I noticed then just how truly oppressive the heat was in here. Everyone was sweating.

"My God, it's hot," I said.

They all stared at me, and I immediately felt stupid. What had I expected? When I'd conquered the kingdom, it had shaped itself to my will, transforming itself into my idea of perfection: the Sonora Desert. The castle had not changed, and remained in its constant state: thick blocks of stone. Black stone. Stone that absorbed heat like crazy and had little ventilation. It was the kind of place more suited to cold, misty moors.

The land had been greener and more temperate under its last ruler, Aeson. Aeson and I had had a fair amount of friction because he'd been trying to get Jasmine pregnant and had wanted to give me a shot too, in hopes that he would be the father of that world-conquering prince. Plus, Aeson was just a total asshole. I'd killed him in battle, and when a ruler dies, the land seeks out someone else powerful. That someone else had been me. I'd claimed the land without realizing what I was doing, and that's when it had transformed to this mirror of Tucson.

It occurred to me how horrible it must be to live here. The gentry lacked most of the technology of my own world. No central air-conditioning. No electric fans. This place had to be roasting these people alive, particularly after what they'd been used to before I came along.

Feeling bad for them, I reached out to the air around me with my mind. For a moment, there was nothing, and then I sensed the moisture particles hanging in the air. There weren't many, but they were there. Spreading beyond the room, I pulled in more moisture, undoubtedly turning nearby halls and rooms into ovens. In here, however, the temperature dropped and grew moist. A slight thrill ran through me, as often happened when I tapped my inherited gentry magic.

Tentatively, I then attempted to move the air itself in some sort of breeze. Nothing. I had managed that feat only once and couldn't repeat it.

Realizing what I'd done, Shaya crooked me a grin. "Thank you, your majesty."

I smiled back and stood. They all hastily followed suit, and I waved them down. "Hang out here if you want. It should stay cool for a little longer. I'm going to go do my...thing. Then we'll go."

I left the castle for one of its courtyards, a wide, terraced area that I loved. Saguaros and blooming prickly pears lined it. Purple-flowered smokethorns, the tree that had given this land its name, stood sentry, as did mesquite, filling the air with sweetness. A few hummingbirds darted here and there like bright, flying gemstones.

I sat on one of the steps that led to the upper gardens and closed my eyes. This was why I had to come back. If left to me, I would have never returned. But once the Thorn Land had bound itself to me, it was mine. It depended on me for its survival. I didn't entirely understand my connection to it, but it was unbreakable. It was the reason I dreamed about this place. There was no escaping it.

The sun beat down on me, forever reminding us we answered to nature in the end. My body relaxed, and soon, the life of the land spread into me. It always startled me at first, and then I quickly adapted, like it was the most natural thing in the world. The land was me, and I was the land. We were one, neither of us complete without the other.

When I came to, I think almost an hour had passed. I stood up, shaking off my trance. I had extracted myself from that joining with the land but knew it was still with me. It was stronger for having just made the connection. I had fulfilled my duty.

My party set out shortly thereafter. Horse riding was a skill I'd had to perfect pretty quickly since hanging out around here. There were no cars or planes.

Shaya, Rurik, and Nia were with me, as were about a dozen guards. The guards rode stoically, eyes alert and watchful as they surrounded us. Rurik occasionally barked out an order to them, but mostly he bantered with Shaya and flirted with Nia. I wasn't too good at casual conversation and mostly just listened, more entertained by them than I wanted to admit.

It was late morning, and the sun showed us no mercy as we traveled. I fared better than the rest, wearing shorts and sunglasses. The other women at least had lightweight dresses, but the men wore full leather armor and had to suffer considerably. None of them complained, not even Rurik, but sweat poured down their faces.

So, it was something of a relief when we hit our first shift in the land. It's an oddity of the Otherworld that it folds in upon itself. Traveling is disorienting. In going in a straight line out of my kingdom, it was entirely possible to cross other kingdoms and then my own again without deviating from our course.

We crossed into the Oak Land, and suddenly it was as though the Thorn Land had never existed. You couldn't even see it behind us. One of the guards broke his rigid demeanor to emit a small cheer that made everyone laugh. A cool, almost chill breeze rushed over us. Late autumn had settled on the Oak Land, setting the trees on fire with brilliant colors. It was gorgeous-and much more comfortable-but I secretly hoped we'd pass out of it soon. I had too many disturbing memories of this place.

Sure enough, we soon crossed into the Thorn Land again, slamming into that unforgiving heat. It felt like traveling in circles, but the others assured me we stayed on course. That stint was brief, and our next shift took us to the Rowan Land. Late summer ruled here, but it was a more temperate summer than my own kingdom's. Cherry trees filled the landscape. Last I'd seen them, pink blossoms had covered almost every square inch of the branches. Now, as I looked closer, I could see bright red fruit weighing them down.

And it was then that the wights attacked.

Wights were denizens of the Otherworld, and while they weren't spirits exactly, they had the ability to turn invisible. So, my guards' vigilance had done no good. I counted seven as they swooped out of the orchards. They wore gray clothing and had long, pale faces. For the most part, they looked very much like humans and gentry. Light flared around them as they rained down bolts of power upon us. Wights were even more strongly tied to magic than the gentry, and conventional weapons had little effect on them. You had to take them down with magic. Unfortunately, the storm magic I'd inherited from my father still wasn't quite up to hardcore attacks. Neither was my guards' magic. Special magic-wielding soldiers aside, I'd learned most warriors here were weak in magic; it was why they'd chosen a more physical profession.

I still suspected the silver bullets in my Glock might hurt the wights. Only, I had a problem. My guards had closed rank around Nia-the only civilian here-and me. Getting a shot off would likely kill one of them.

"Let me out!" I yelled. "Let me fight!"

The guards ignored me and, in fact, redoubled their own shouts of "The queen! Protect the queen!"

Swearing, I managed to lean through and get a shot off that took one of the wights in the chest. It didn't kill him but clearly caused severe injury. Nearby, a cherry tree ripped itself from the earth. Infused by magic and therefore potentially lethal, it attacked the wounded wight. That was Shaya's handiwork. She had been a warrior before settling into my administration.

As we fought, I soon deduced the point of this attack. The wights wanted me-not to kill me, but for other...more amorous purposes. They didn't seem to have much organization save to hack through and see who could get to me. Whoever did could have me.

It sickened me, and an old, familiar fear welled up. I could handle concussions, broken bones, and the other myriad effects of my vocation. Rape was not something I could contend with. It had become a daily danger, however, since learning about my half-gentry heritage. My father, honorifically dubbed Storm King, had been a tyrannical warlord-one of the most powerful magic users the Otherworld had ever seen. He'd been intent on crossing over and conquering humanity. He'd come damned close, too, until my stepfather, Roland, had defeated him. Unfortunately, a prophecy had surfaced in Storm King's wake, a prophecy that said his daughter's son would complete his work. That was why I was such a hot commodity among Otherworldly males who believed in Storm King's vision. It was also why Jasmine wanted to get pregnant.

Giving up on the gun, I produced my jewel-studded wand and started simply casting out the wights to the Underworld. Instant death. As I did my thing and the guards did theirs, we suddenly reached a point where all grew quiet. The wights were dead or gone.

Everyone in my party immediately looked to see if I was all right, which I found ridiculous since two of the guards lay on the ground, and a number of them were bleeding.

"Forget about me," I snapped. "Check on them!"

None had died, much to my relief. Gentry were hard to kill in their own world. They were long-lived and hardy. One of the guards had some healing powers, and we spent a considerable amount of time patching the group up. When we finally set out again, Shaya glanced up at the sun's position and frowned.

"We're going to be late."

I thought about Kiyo. Then I thought about Maiwenn, who always looked like some sort of golden goddess, even with her belly ready to burst with Kiyo's son or daughter. Walking in late to her elite baby party, breaching etiquette under her cool gaze...Well, suddenly I wanted to ride as we'd never ridden before.

Unfortunately, our wounded couldn't do that. Frustrated, we finally split the party, and those of us who were uninjured rode on at a brisk pace, hoping to cut our time. Before long, we crossed to the Willow Land and slammed into its freezing temperatures. It was just coming out of winter, and spring thaws were in progress, but the chill proved a shock nonetheless. We rode on down the road, determined to get there. We finally made it.

But we were still late.

Maiwenn's castle staff eyed our bedraggled state but showed me to a room where I could clean up and get ready. Nia practically had a conniption as Shaya and I hastily washed ourselves off and pulled on fresh clothes. Nia's magical gifts gave her a knack for adorning others and arranging hair. Kind of a magical beautician. It killed her that I almost never utilized her services. I could see her itching to do something intricate to my hair, but I shook my head.

"No time. Make it fast. Wear it down."

Obliging-but disapproving-she used magic and a brush to work it into gleaming, silky lengths, pulling a little of it up with a barrette and stealing a couple of small daisies from a nearby vase to tuck into the barrette. With her magic, I knew it would stay perfectly arranged for hours. I splashed on some violet perfume, hoping it would cover any sweatiness I'd missed. With that, we were off.

When Shaya and I approached the ballroom, it was obvious we were the last to arrive. The room was packed. I sighed loudly.

"It's all right," murmured Shaya. "You're a queen. You're expected to be eccentric. Don't look embarrassed."

"Is it possible," I asked, "that we could just sneak in without anyone noticing?"

Before she could answer, a herald stood in the doorway and announced in a voice designed for carrying over loud crowds: "Her Royal Majesty, Queen Eugenie Markham, called Odile Dark Swan, Daughter of Tirigan the Storm King, Protector of the Thorn Land, Beloved of the Triple Moon Goddess."

Dozens of heads swiveled toward us.

I sighed again and answered my own question. "Apparently not."