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The next corridor burns away the sorrow with rage so hot it sears from the inside. Red edges my vision, and the knife hilt grows slick in my palm. The walls pulse deep crimson, splashed with the blood of the fallen.

“This,” I grit out, fighting the urge to slash at the walls and scream until my throat bleeds, “isn’t natural.”

“No.” For the first time, I see the emotion hit Kelaros, too, his knuckles white on the lapels of his coat. “The court’s memories have fractured. Each chamber holds a memory of what once was whole.”

I force my feet forward, focusing on the act of walking to combat the fury trying to swallow me. My magic rises, searching for a wound to heal, but it can’t help when what assaults me are memories.

We round a corner, and the rage evaporates.

I stagger as cool air brushes my face, carrying the scent of flowers I can’t name. We’ve reached a balcony open to the endless crystalline sky, light pooling in puddles across the floor.

Fierce, intoxicating joy floods my system, and laughter bubbles in my throat. It’s pure, uncomplicated happiness, the kind I’ve never felt in my life, and here it comes in waves.

My pulse races, too fast, my body caught between the artificial emotion and my own wariness, and finally, my healing ability latches on to stabilize my heart rate.

I take a deep breath, and the joy recedes to manageable levels. When I wipe my brow, my fingers come away wet with sweat.

“Emotional magic,” I mutter. “I hate it.”

“Empires can stand so long as a heart beats strong enough to hold them.” Kelaros leans on the railing of the balcony, the swirling colors of the sky casting his profile in sharp relief. “This one’s heart stopped long ago, but the body refuses to die.”

The words prickle across my skin. “You sound as if you’re quoting something.”

“Ancient wisdom.” His lips twitch. “Or ancient nonsense, depending on your perspective.”

I join him at the railing, careful to keep space between us. Below, the landscape shifts and reforms, crystal formations rising and falling like ocean waves. “Feelings can’t hold stone walls together.”

His posture shifts, casual interest giving way to shrewd speculation. “No? Then what does?”

“Magic. Power.” I shrug. “Same as any realm.”

“And how many realms have you seen, Traveler with No Name?”

“I have a name. Just not one I’ll give you.”

His head cocks to the side. “And here I thought we were becoming friends.”

“No.” I gesture to a sigil near his elbow. “What’s that?”

He bends to examine the balcony stone, and his fingers brush the mark.

It sparks, and he flinches back, pain flashing before his jaw locks tight. “Interesting. The sigils are still active.”

“What happened?”

He straightens, flexing his fingers with forced nonchalance. “A small shock. The court doesn’t appreciate being touched.”

“Right.” I let the word stretch, disbelief clear. I’ve touched plenty of walls, sigils, and floors since entering this place. It hasn’t hurt me. “It shocked you.”

“Would you prefer I cried out in agony?” He grins, but it holds no warmth. “Next time I’ll be more dramatic.”

The joke falls flat. He’s hiding something. Whether it’s about himself or the court remains unclear for now.

I file the observation away, another piece in the puzzle of Kelaros Nyt’Fall. I need him to help locate my Silver Prince, but I don’t trust him.

“Let’s keep moving.” I turn from the railing. “The stone says Elionn is close.”

But as we leave the balcony of joy, I can’t shake the suspicion that the farther we go, the deeper we entrench ourselves in a trap laid centuries before either of us was born.