A tidy row of cologne bottles slammed together and crashed to the floor as Daya swept an arm across the dresser in search of a weapon. Anything would do. The silver cufflinks. The cellphone charging on the surface. Both, tacit reminders this was not her house. (If it were, there would be something useful like a throwing knife.) She brandished the phone as a shield.

“Marco, please! You’re causing a scene,” she whisper-screamed, darting to the other side of the room. The sideways scuttle was scored by a live orchestra playing sedately below. Daya’s cyanide blue eyes widened as her lover came at her with an empty champagne bottle. Though she supposed he was her de facto ex now that he was trying to kill her.

“Don’t ‘Marco, please,’ me!” he choked out. “I don’t care who hears! Everyone already knows it was you, and the cops are on their way!”

“The cops?! For what?”

“Because you stole my grandmother’s heirloom necklace!”

“You’ve had one too many drinks, darling. Don’t embarrass yourself over a simple misunder—” Daya parried another wild flail of his arm, and her evening gown gave a loud rip. She gasped as they watched the slit race higher up her thigh. “Look what you made me do!”

He shrugged, dropping the bottle. “You have to admit, it’s an improvement.”

She parked her hands on her hips, voluptuous breasts heaving. Enough was enough. “We can talk like sensible adults, but leave the Vera out of this,” she chided.

The handsome rogue grabbed her by the garment and lifted her off the floor. He gave her a little shake, and her dangling feet kicked air. Well, this is ridiculous, she thought. He was sloshed to the gills. The odds were against talking sense into him.

“Oh, for God’s sake! The dress is a rental!”

“I’m sure you were planning on keeping it anyway,” he sneered. “Now, what am I misunderstanding about rare, priceless jewelry going missing on your watch, gold-digger?”

“Be reasonable. There’s a parlor full of people bidding on items in the estate sale. Any one of them could’ve lifted it. I’m sure the authorities will search. Don’t you have any faith in me?”

Marco grunted in the negative. “I know exactly who you are, bella. I tried to make myself believe your years of crime were behind you. But, there’s a saying: No honor amongst thieves.”

“You would know.” Daya dropped her innocent act. She used his grip to tear out of the dress. Underneath was a bodysuit. Tossing a cascade of dark curls over her pale shoulder, she smoothed a hand over the shaper. “There, that’s better,” she sighed. “And, you should also know the other saying, darling. It goes, ‘Finders, keepers.’”

Marco blinked in disbelief when she held up the million-dollar necklace. She shoved it in her bodice and quickly pulled out gloves. Wriggling her fingers into them, she opened the window with a gleeful smirk.

“You wouldn’t dare!” he said.

She scrambled out to prove she would, indeed, dare. There was already a hook jammed into the sill for just such a daring caper. She braced her designer shoes against the steeply gabled roof to lower herself the three flights to the ground.

Rappelling several feet, she called out, “Give my regards to your boss with the mafia. Or, should I say dear old grandmother?” Her smug grin morphed into a surprised O as she slid farther than expected.

Suddenly, the hook became unmoored, and Daya shrieked. She heard Marco laughing somewhere above her as she clawed at the shingles. A dainty high-heel skittered to the ground. When she looked up, he had disappeared from the window.

“Shit!” she swore. Casting a glance to one side, she squinted at flashing lights entering the gates and repeated the expletive with more force. She thought he had been bluffing about calling the cops. Desperate times, she mused, when a hitman gets the law involved.

Nothing had gone according to plan. Six months wasted dating the gullible gun-for-hire Marco Bernie to get closer to the jaw-dropping Blausäure sapphire! She had a buyer lined up. Unfortunately, when the mafia fell on hard times, they really fell. They were liquidating their assets.

The semi-respectable private auction would have whisked the gemstone God knew where if Daya hadn’t stolen it. Now, she was hanging thirty feet above an exquisite stonework courtyard. Really, the garden was quite beautiful, from what she could see when her head wasn’t swimming with dizziness from looking down.

“This is perfect,” she huffed. She couldn’t wait to have to never do anything like this again. Twenty-seven was a suitable age for retirement from a life of crime, right? If she made it out alive.

A voice from behind startled her. “I can get you out of here, but you must come with me.”

Daya almost lost her grip because a voice from behind was quite literally impossible. Her black hair swished around her face as she tried to look. Her lips parted in shock when she saw the wizened old man in grey robes standing on thin air.

“All you have to do is trust me and let go,” he smiled.

She had no choice. The world faded as she passed out and lost her grip.

* * *

When Daya opened her eyes, she was passing through what looked like a market. A busy street lined with merchant stalls. High noon. The sun was ungodly bright. She was surrounded by people, and the din of voices, the pungent smells of spices and body odor—everything—jarred her senses. There was something utterly disorienting about waking mid-step.

“You’ll feel tired and achy. It’s to be expected,” a man murmured. “We’ve been traveling a while, but the Between creates a sort of twilight sleep. It’s hard to guess how long you’re in there.”

“Huh?” Daya grunted in a daze.

She felt like she had been roofied. A panicked look down revealed someone had dressed her in a loose, gauzy dress that draped her svelte figure. She sighed in relief. She wasn’t in one of those ‘naked in public’ dreams but, then again, she wasn’t dreaming, was she?

Daya’s eyebrows hooked in a frown as she gingerly touched her head for injuries. No damage, there. Her hair was piled in a messy bun, and her feet were in sandals that felt made for her, just like the dress. It was wrong on so many levels. She gasped and patted herself for her cellphone. It was missing, naturally.

“What in the entire fuck?” she blurted out.

The bald man who had rescued her looked like a priest. She apologized for cussing, and he flashed a wry grin. “It’s quite alright,” he chuckled. “What passes for swears in your realm—how do you say— doesn’t have ‘shit’ on the colorful expletives here.”

Daya was vividly aware she wasn’t in Kansas anymore. “And, where the bloody hell is here, exactly?” she asked.

“Bloody hell? Creative. For an American. No, you’re not only not in Kansas, you’re not exactly on your version of Earth anymore. I’m Neigen, by the way.”

“Oh, thanks for the tour update, Neigen,” she said with sarcasm. “Nice to…Wait. Did you just read my mind?”

“My apologies. It’s a holdover from my job, you see. I’ve read minds for the high priestess for centuries. It has its perks. Unfortunately, it also has its limitations. I can’t read hers.” A troubled look flitted across his face.

“Uh-huh.” Daya quirked her lips to the side and tried to figure out what was going on. She was too self-aware to be in a dream. This felt like a movie. Only, in movies, the extras didn’t gawk. She hugged herself as passers-by shot wary glances her way. Also, her supporting character was either bonkers or the best method actor ever.

He clutched her elbow and steered her from the flow of foot-traffic down a quiet alley shaded by sandstone buildings. Another bout of panic flared as she stumbled along the empty path. The sun was filtered by crimson banners that flapped overhead. Isolated, dark place? Rape or murder could be imminent. She had a height advantage over her rather ancient captor, but one couldn’t be too careful.

Daya threw up her hands defensively. “Where are you taking me? If you try anything crazy, I will scream like nobody’s business. I have the lungs of a harpy. They’ll hear me way in the parking lot of this…Renaissance festival.” Maybe. Yeah. Had to be.

“Really, Daya? I did a favor for you.” Neigen consulted a gold timepiece. “Walk faster. I saved your life, and now I need you to save mine.”

“Like how?” She dug in her heels.

“I’m not sure,” he flashed a grandfatherly smile. “But, if I don’t get you to the Temple of the Fire, I’m done for. Now, come along. It’s just up ahead. Once there, I’ll explain what I can. Oh, but, I suppose I should warn you first. In their natural form, the dragon eaters are fearsome to look at. Ghastly creatures. However, the Mistress won’t hurt you. Yet. Hopefully.”

“Yet? Hopefully?” Daya pivoted away with a hysterical laugh. “Dragon eaters. Right. I fell. I’m dead! I’m dead, and this is my fucked-up version of the afterlife.”

Neigen heaved a flustered sigh and tugged her in step again. “We simply don’t have time for any breakdowns. Ordinarily, I’d introduce a person to the concept of Realm Travel in increments. An orientation, if you will. It’s just—You don’t want to keep Feis waiting.”

Daya shrieked in surprise when he shoved her through a door she hadn’t seen until the last minute. The dimly lit alley was at once replaced by smoke-laden darkness. Coughing from the incense, she tripped over the folds of her dress and almost fell, but Neigen steadied her.

“Watch your step. She wants you intact,” he hissed.

“What is this place?”

“Really, no time to explain.”

As she hurried after the anxious priest, her eyes adjusted, and she surveyed her surroundings. In recessed alcoves lining the darkened walls, she saw gold relics that reflected faint candlelight. Hundreds of candles worked to abate the shadows, but the place was cavernous. Archways reached cathedral ceilings. Neat rows of pews and a lengthy aisle led to a raised dais. Definitely a church.

A Gothic monstrosity of a dragon statue snaked around a slender white crystal that rose above an altar, and kneeling before the gleaming beast was a woman. She was in the same flowy, gauzy dress as others Daya had seen in this place. But, this woman had a towering gold crown shaped like dancing flames, advertising her station. She was a Ruler.

“You’re behind schedule.” Her voice was liquid fire—a hushed crackle—as she gracefully stood.

At the sound of it, Daya flinched and almost stopped following Neigen to the altar. The high priestess was half her height and twice as intimidating. Daya wanted to bolt, but Neigen bowed low to the floor at the woman’s feet.

“I am sorry, Mistress. It couldn’t be helped. The human was indisposed when I arrived in her realm.”

“That’s an understatement,” Daya mumbled, but her irreverent snort became a strangled whimper when the “Mistress” turned her way. “Jesus H. Christ.”

“No, Feis of the Fire.” The woman smiled.

She had skin the same burnished gold as her headdress, and it sure as hell didn’t look like paint. Her eyes were like flames. Hair the color of orange-red embers fell to her waist, framing truly lovely facial features. But, her teeth…Her teeth were jagged ivory spires, and her shapely mouth barely concealed them. This was a dragon eater?

Retreating a step, Daya glanced at Neigen, but he was still kissing the temple floor. No help at all. If she was dreaming, she was ready to wake up now. None of this could be real.

“And, you are Oedaya of the Blue Sky Realm,” Feis whispered.

“Just Daya Krane, thank you. N-no one calls me Oedaya but my grandfather,” she stammered. “I’m-I’m sorry, how do you know me?”

“Oh, don’t be frightened. You’ll have to excuse my appearance. I haven’t eaten,” the woman said casually, waving in the general direction of her face and...teeth.

Daya gulped. “Yeah, being hangry does that to me, too.”

“You’re not what I expected, but what a pleasure,” Feis purred. “I’ve searched the four realms for someone with your unique capabilities. A woman, born with the Moon trine Neptune, with a predilection for taking things that do not belong to her.”

“Excuse me?” Daya tremulously straightened her shoulders. “I mean, with all due respect, I think you have the wrong girl. Moon trying Neptune doesn’t sound anything like me. I guess, you know, for this place, it’s a common mistake. You can just, uh, let me go home now. No harm, no foul.”

Feis closed the distance between them, and Daya’s nose twitched. The woman exuded a musky aroma. Like the dregs of rose water scorching in a kettle. She coiled a lock of Daya’s hair around her forefinger. “I never make mistakes, Oedaya.” She tugged until it hurt. Badly. Then, she let the dark curl go and patted Daya’s shoulder. “I know you’re a thief and that no one matches your ability to procure things.”

“Maybe in the past, but, um, I’m reformed. Born again. Baptized in holy water.” Daya released a nervous, high-pitched giggle. She clapped a hand over her mouth as Feis smirked and moved away. “I’m sorry. I get goofy when I’m scared.”

“What you people do with religion is sinful. But, you know—holy water—that can be arranged.” She snapped her fingers, and a book materialized in the air. “I brought you here to retrieve something for me, and you can’t leave until I have it in my hands.”

Neigen gasped when the book flipped open. “The Heart of the Dragon Lord.”

“A red diamond!” Daya exclaimed at the same time. “That’s one of the rarest gems on the planet! I’ve never even seen one in person.” The thief in her tingled with anticipation, drawing her to the illustration with wanton greed. She thought of every jewel she had ever stolen. This was her unicorn.

Feis tilted her head. “It’s nearby. In a mountainous keep none from my realm can enter.”

“That sounds pretty sketchy,” Daya admitted.

Neigen laboriously straightened his posture and fixed Daya with a stare that reminded her of the stern nuns from her Catholic school days. “It is sketchy. You live in a world where magic is an illusion,” he said solemnly. “This is not that world.”

“Oh, don’t chaperone her, Neigen. She’s an adult.” Feis circled her, but Daya couldn’t take her eyes off the scarlet diamond. She mentally calculated how much the jewel would be worth to the obviously rich and powerful high priestess—assuming she believed this whole other realm business. Enough to retire?

“A powerful spell prevents me from doing this for myself,” the woman continued, “but I can tell you how to get in and, most importantly, out with the Heart of the Dragon. No police. No cameras. No silly catsuits.”

Daya’s gaze narrowed shrewdly. “I like a challenge, but I’ll need more than my walking papers when this is done. I want hazard pay. You know, the kind of money that’ll keep me set for life.”

“You can’t be so naïve. Oedaya, she’s trying to—Ack!” Neigen choked. Feis spread her fingers, and the priest doubled over in pain. His anguished outcry pierced the pious silence. Daya instinctively threw her body in front of him. She didn’t bother questioning reality.

“Don’t hurt him!” she yelled.

Feis dropped her hand and said sweetly, “You needlessly torment her, Neigen. She doesn’t want to see you like this.”

Daya glanced over her shoulder. He was clutching his chest, recovering. Tendrils of steam wafted from his clothes. An incendiary odor filled the temple. She hated to think what it signified. His skin was a bright pink and glistened with sweat.

She shook her head in horror when she looked back at the high priestess. What in the world was going on? This was a place where power meant actual power. She felt it crackling in the air around her. Feis weakly slumped against the altar. Whatever foul magic she had used had drained her, but Daya still backed away from her.

“Be careful,” Neigen panted.

“Yes, be careful, Oedaya. I give you options, but choose wisely. Behind door number one, you get me the jewel, and I give you what you want. Not just wealth, but unending wealth. I can make your life so much easier,” Feis seductively promised. The words wrapped around Daya enticingly, but she couldn’t get the thought of Neigen’s torture out of her head.

Feis seemed to realize it. She hardened her voice: “Door number two, you don’t get the jewel, and you die a swift death. What about door number three? You die slow,” she said apathetically.

“I told you I’d get it for you!”

“Of course, you have to get past what guards it.”

“Fantastic.” Given what Daya had seen thus far, she guessed whatever guarded the treasure would likely be better equipped to hurt her than she would ever be to hurt it. But, there was no backing out now. “I need time to devise a plan,” she hedged.

“I’ll give you one night, and you’ll have the book for reference. Take her to her chamber.”

“But, that’s not enough time!”

“She’s being generous,” Neigen advised.

He staggered from the room of worship with bony fingers clamped around Daya’s elbow. Her heart thundered in her chest as they raced a flight of stairs that wound through the sprawling temple, past dark rooms and quiet rustling. The movie had turned from fantasy to sinister. Only, this wasn’t a movie or a dream.

“There’s no way I can plan a heist in one night. Is she crazy?”

“Perhaps you should’ve asked that question before you promised to get her a stone that will give her all-power,” her guide sputtered.

Daya inhaled sharply and halted in her tracks. “Well, gee, Neigen! You could’ve told me I was signing up to play fetch for a mad sorceress. I would’ve taken my chances surviving Marco’s courtyard,” she snapped.

He glared at her as he flung open the door to an oversized bedchamber. Her jaw dropped at the sight of a massive bed and deep-basined tub, a warm fire crackling in the hearth, and food on a table. She breathed in the heavenly smell of candied fruit and roasted meat and forgot why they were arguing.

Daya ran to the cloche-covered dinner tray. “OMG, is this real?” she gushed. Stuffing sugar-glazed pear slices into her mouth with greedy relish, she extended a plate to Neigen, but he shook his head.

“I was ordered to bring you here, and so I have,” he said stiffly, peering over his shoulder.

“Fine, then. More for me.”

He smirked and slipped into the room, shutting the door. “I had to make sure we weren’t followed,” he hissed. “Listen, there were things I didn’t know that I didn’t know, but we haven’t time for regrets. She’s sending you on a suicide mission! I can’t let you go without a fighting chance. After all, you bravely put yourself between me and certain death back there.”

The pear lodged in her throat uncomfortably. “What’s guarding the diamond, Neigen?”

“That’s the least of your worries now that you’ve agreed to retrieve it. This world—It will change one, and not always for the best. So, you must stay focused and work swiftly. Bear in mind, for every day you’re here, months are passing in your time. The realms aren’t entirely in sync.”

“Wait, what?!”

“Yes, and knowing Feis, you’re not the only one. You’re racing not only against the clock but against whoever else she sends as a backup plan. I’m sure you realize there’s no second place in this game.” He backed toward the door. “I will try to lend assistance however I can. But, once you get to the keep, you’re on your own. You should look out for anyone who seems out of the norm.”

“For me, that’s everyone here!” she wailed, pacing away. “Do you know when she’s sending in the competition? Where the diamond might be? I mean, a ‘keep’ is a very nonspecific noun. And, what’s guarding the thing?” Daya turned to an empty room.

The tall double doors whispered shut, and she groaned helplessly. Then, the floating book from the temple materialized. With a surprised yelp, Daya rushed to grab it. She flipped open the cover, and the pages turned on their own. Squiggly runes shifted and changed shape, transforming before her very eyes into an alphabet she understood. She deciphered the first line above the illustration of the red diamond.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.” Daya slapped the book shut.

The first line read, “There be dragons.”

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