Page 17 of Shadowvein

That’s good. I need her mind functioning, but not questioning too deeply.

“You never told me your name.” I don’t look up from my book.

There’s a slight pause before she replies. “Ellie. Ellie Bennett.”

Ellie Bennett.

I commit the name to memory, turning it over like a coin in my mind. A simple name from a foreign world. Unremarkable, just like its owner. And yet, she was drawn by my summoning spell when no one else was. Not in the way I intended, certainly. I never expected to pull someone from another world entirely. But the fact remains that she responded.

“And where are you from,Ellie Bennett?” I close my book, setting it aside to give her my full attention. “Tell me about this …Chicago.” The word sits uncomfortably on my tongue.

“Why do you care?” Her suspicion is a tangible thing between us.

I offer her a half-smile, just enough to suggest openness without appearing eager for her answer. “Simple curiosity. It’s been a long time since I’ve spoken to anyone at all.” Twenty-seven years of silence makes even the most mundane conversation precious, though I’ll never admit that out loud.

She studies me, eyes narrowing slightly. I keep my expression neutral.

“Chicago is a city,” she says finally. “A big one. I think a couple of million people live there.”

I don’t think I’ve ever been anywhere that has that many people in one place. It’s almost impossible to imagine.

“It sits on Lake Michigan.” She pauses, head tilting, waiting for me to react. I don’t. “It’s winter there. December.” Her voice turns wistful. “It’s Christmas Eve today.”

None of the words mean anything to me. Her world and minemust have very different geographies, different calendars, different customs. It’s interesting, but ultimately useless information that I can’t use.

“What were you doing before you arrived here?”

“Shopping.” A bitter laugh breaks free. “Christmasshopping. I was crossing the street in the rain. Thinking about getting home and warm. Then suddenly … heat. Light. Sand.” She shakes her head. “One second I was there, the next I was here. No warning. No explanation.”

“Fascinating.” And it is, truly. As far as I’m aware, the spell shouldn’t have worked that way. It was designed to call someone with latent magical abilities. Someone who could end my imprisonment in the tower. Not someone from another world entirely.

Standing, I walk around the chamber, stretching legs that never seem to loosen no matter how much I move. The binding ensures that, a constant reminder of my situation.

She monitors my movements with the wariness of a prey tracking a predator, shrinking against the chair as I pass. Her caution is understandable. She’s trapped in a strange place with an even stranger person. One who, despite his captivity, still carries himself with the authority of command. Old habits that decades of isolation have failed to erase.

“When you were in the desert …” I complete my circuit of the chamber, and stop beside my desk, fingers trailing over the worn wood. “What made you walk toward the tower?” The question seems casual, but her answer might give me the answers I’m seeking.

“I saw something shining in the distance. When you’re dying of thirst, you head toward anything that might mean shelter or water.”

I nod. Simple survival instinct, possibly combined with the magical pull of my spell. Not that I’m going to tell her about the latter.

She pushes to her feet. “Look, none of this matters. I need to find a way out of here and go home.”

“On that we agree. Though the method may be more complex than you imagine.”

She paces over to the archway, spins and walks the other way, restless energy radiating out from her. “You said the door will reappear eventually. When? How long do I have to wait?”

I consider how much to reveal. Too much would be dangerous, too little will make her distrustful. “This place follows its own patterns. I can’t predict when the door will next appear.”

“That’s not helpful.” She stops abruptly to stare at me.

“But it’s the truth, all the same.”

Her frustration is evident when she resumes pacing. She reaches the archway again, and stops, a flicker of discomfort crossing her face.

“Is there a bathroom or something in this place?” Her cheeks turn red.

“A … bathroom?”

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