3.

The following morning I was awoken suddenly, startled by my unfamiliar surroundings. I sat up stark straight in the strange bed, my hand clutched to my chest. I gasped as I scrambled to re-acclimate myself to the new world that I had somehow fallen into. The tattoo on my right hand began to pulse, as if someone was tugging on a long rope that ended in my palm. Bewildered, I pulled my bewitched hand away from my chest, unconsciously observing how it seemed to glow in the dim light of dawn.

I reached for the glass of water on the eloquent bedside table to my left and sipped from it. After setting it back down where it belonged, I leaned against the elegant headboard, and pulled the hood of my sweatshirt over my face, hugging my knees close. This is not really happening, I willed myself to believe, You're probably just in a coma.

"A coma…" Rhysand's quiet voice caught me off guard. It sounded as though he'd never heard of the medical term. I slowly pulled the hood away from my eyes and stared at him incredulously from where he stood in the doorway. He was grinning; and I was at a loss in trying to figure out how he could be so sly and cunning but also sad and somber all at once.

"Don't attempt to injure yourself again," He ordered in mock condescension. "You're not dreaming, and thankfully," He paused for a second, taking a seat at the end of my bed, "you are very much alive." There was a note of disbelief in his voice that somehow alluded to the many years he and Feyre were led to believe that I had been brutally murdered.

I let out a single dry chuckle. I figured that I must have inherited his dark sense of humor or else I wouldn't have found that remotely entertaining. Rhysand's expression twisted. He had heard that.

"You know what they say about eavesdroppers…" I recited, invoking the memory of my mother-well, adopted mother-scolding me from the adjacent room after I had been listening in on a conversations I was not supposed to hear.

Rhysand looked puzzled. "No I do not," I had almost forgotten that the colloquial sayings that I had grown accustomed to were not relevant in this world.

I sighed, giving him my own cunning grin nonetheless. "They never hear what they want to hear," I explained. "That's what they say about eavesdroppers."

"That's not entirely true," Feyre said, now entering, a smile stretched across her face as she joined us. She was dressed in hunting gear. For a moment, I was completely intimidated, but regained my composure before anyone noticed. She sat next to Rhysand. "Eavesdropping is quite informational. We have gotten a wealth of information from listening in on you already." Oh, so she had the dark humor gene as well… interesting.

I didn't laugh at her off-color joke. Thinking of the fact that they were constantly invading my mind made me uneasy. I felt their energy retreat from my mind. I relaxed a little bit. This did not go unnoticed. My alleged parents exchanged a glance, poorly concealing their worry.

I was so overcome with my newfound anxiety that I wished that I could just disappear. With all my might, I willed myself to vanish from sight. I wanted to be anywhere than in this awkward silence. I was caught off guard when I felt myself traveling across an imaginary rope once again, and even more thrown off when I hit the ground.

Oops.

Groggily, I rubbed my now-bruised limbs and got to my feet. I was in the middle of a small, but active city. My heart rate quickened, as I let my eyes took in my surroundings, frantic and confused. I wondered if this was the city of Velaris, the one that I was overlooking from the balcony last night.

It took me a moment to realize that there was a guy, who seemed to be around my age, standing over me. "Are you all right?" He asked me, helping me to my feet. "You came out of nowhere." He studied me from head to toe, focusing on the clothing that I was wearing that must have been unfamiliar to him. I, too, studied him: his handsome features, his elaborate clothing that was unlike what I had seen the Inner Circle wearing…

"Hello?" He asked, begging for a response, and waving his hand in front of my face.

I snapped back into reality… or… whatever this was. "Y-yeah," I responded, "I think I'm all right." I looked around at the surroundings. This was definitely not the starlit city that I'd witnessed last night. It was not as large. And it was significantly hotter and brighter wherever I was now. "Where am I?" I asked, rubbing my forehead.

He stared at me incredulously. "Where do you think you are?" He asked, suspicious.

"I don't know," I responded, my annoyed frustration seeping through my tone, "That's why I asked."

He rolled his eyes. "You're the one who winnowed here," He muttered under his breath. "You'd think that someone who is capable of that kind of magic would at least know where they are going." He began to walk away, leaving me in the street.

Winnowed. That was a new term. I wondered if that was why I kept ending up in unfamiliar places.

I hurried after him, in pursuit of answers. "I did what?" I asked him. He kept walking. "Excuse me, I-I'm not from here. I'm just looking for some answers."

He stopped, and faced me, his expression leaking annoyed resentment. is Astrid." I extended my hand to shake his, and when he looked at me as though I had three heads, I withdrew it, chalking it up to my obvious culture shock.

His eyes widened. "Astrid," He said, "As in Astrid from the Night Court?" He said this in a low voice, and looked around at the peaceful street to see if anyone had heard him. The coast had been clear.

I wasn't sure. I complied anyway, as a wild guess. "Y-yeah, I think that's me,"

"You can't be here," He said curtly, fear stretching across his face.

"I-I don't understand," I replied.

He didn't seem to listen. He frantically led me into a nearby alley, a more covert location. "You have to go back to where you came from before anyone knows that you're here," He seemed to position his body as if to hide me from the people walking by on the street.

"Believe me, I want to go back to where I came from. Ironically, I prefer to know where I am," I whispered back to him, "But I don't know how,"

"You winnowed here," He exclaimed quietly, "Just winnow back!" He seemed to be filled with fear.

I looked at him, puzzled. Now I was freaking out too. "I. don't. know. What. That. Means." I articulated, pronouncing each word clearly despite my fear.

He sighed. "I don't believe you," He said but his softened expression made me believe that he did. "What kind of trick are you trying to pull? Did the Night Court send you on another one of their dirty missions?"

I was taken aback. Dirty missions. What did he mean by that?

Suddenly, I remembered what Rhysand had explained to me last night: We are not horrible creatures, he had said, But to keep all of this safe, we need to make it seem as though we are to outsiders.

Wow, was I in trouble. I couldn't even imagine what this guy must have thought I was here to do.

"I promise you," I told him firmly, "I am not up to no good. I didn't know I was even capable of… of…" I forgot the word.

"Winnowing," He filled the word in for me, still masking his fear and sympathy with a hard exterior.

"Yes," I confirmed. "I don't know where I am, and I just want to go back home," I looked at him meaningfully, hoping that he would help me. I was close to tears, and he could se it.

He laughed callously his nerves bleeding through his tough front. "No," He said, "I am not bringing you back to the Night Court,"

So he thought I'd meant the Night Court. I'd actually meant Pennsylvania. Regardless, I figured I would take what I could get.

"Please," I said in a soft voice, gently grasping his hand. "I promise that if you help me find my way back, I won't bother you ever again."

"You make a lot of promises," He said slowly, calculated, the gears turning in his head.

I waited in suspense for him to reply, until he finally agreed to take me back. "Follow me," He instructed and he led me silently through the back passages of the town until we were entered a small forest.

"I will winnow us right outside the border of the Night Court," He said firmly, "But I can't go any further. I'm not in the mood to fight to the death today."

I shuddered. I didn't know that this feud existed, much less was this serious. "I appreciate this more than you know," I told him quietly.

He didn't respond. He just kept walking silently, leading us deeper and deeper into the forest.

I felt like I needed to carry some type of conversation. That was etiquette, right? At least where I came from, it was. "I didn't get your name," I said quietly, struggling to catch up with his fast pace.

He sighed, and without looking back at me, responded. "Tristan," He responded, "Son of Tarquin, High Lord of the Summer Court,"

Summer Court. I'd never heard of it. "So that's where I am?" I asked, "The Summer Court?"

That wasn't too bad, I figured. Summer was my favorite season after all. It was the best time to look at the stars.

He looked at me with a softened expression, almost as if he felt bad for me. "You really have no idea, do you?"

I shook my head. "I've only been in this world for a few days," I confessed, "I come from this place called Pennsylvania. There's no magic there. I almost died in a horrific accident, but somehow I ended up here in this world instead,"

He looked at me like I was crazy.

"I swear I'm not lying." I watched him studying me, and I immediately wished I didn't sacrifice so much information. It was already so blatantly clear that I was extremely vulnerable and utterly defenseless. "I ended up here by mistake."

"I believe you," He said, to my great surprise. "You know, you're not actually so bad," He added, and then smiled. "If your parents hadn't stolen from us, we could have actually have been friends…"

I stared at him blankly. Stolen? I had no idea what he was even talking about.

"I'm guessing you didn't know about that either," He said shrugging.

I nodded. "I do know," I said quietly, "That assuming that others are inherently bad is an extremely dangerous habit." I didn't even know where this was coming from. "I don't know about Prythian," I continued, surprised that I recalled the name of this strange land, "But where I come from, fearing others based on what you think they might be causes a lot of problems."

"I'm not afraid of you," Tristan responded quickly, a knee jerk reaction. And then he thought about my words. "But yes," He eventually murmured quietly, "I-I agree,"

"Thank you," I said confidently, as Tristan continued to stare at me. There was a sort of compassion and longing in his eyes. My heart couldn't help but flip. What was happening to me?

As we both looked away at the same time, I noticed that he was blushing. "This grudge we're all holding against each other are stupid," He explained. "Your parents are mad because supposedly the King of Hybern had killed you…" He glanced back at me, "Apparently that wasn't true," He noted, rubbing his temple, "My father is angry at your parents for stealing this book that I believe could have stopped this all," I watched him silently, waiting for any more knowledge that he was willing to share. "My father doesn't believe this. He doesn't trust the Night Court…"

"That's why I can't be here," I surmised. "Despite how I was raised in another realm, I'm still considered to be a part of the Night Court,"

I was only thinking out loud, but Tristan nodded anyway.

"That sucks," I said, and he laughed as though he'd never heard anyone exclaim that something 'sucked' before. "Can we be friends anyway?" I realized how naïve I sounded as the words left my mouth.

He smirked. "Yeah, I guess so," He responded, with a chuckle, "I don't think there's harm in that. Unless you try to decimate me once you actually learn how to use your magic," It was clearly a joke, but I didn't find it to be funny. My heart sank in my stomach.

"What do you mean by that?" I responded, trying to force a smirk, but I was completely serious and partly terrified.

"Astrid, your parents are the most powerful rulers in Prythian," He said this quietly and with reverence, still surprised that I wasn't already aware. "Your father has long held that distinction, until your mother died to save Prythian and was resurrected with magical gifts from all seven High Lords,"

My jaw had dropped. I was flabbergasted. "w-what…"

Tristan ignored my babbling and continued. "If you are truly their daughter…" He explained but stopped abruptly when I leaned over, clutching my stomach.

I was overcome with embarrassment having just vomited in front of an attractive guy that I had only just met, especially as he was telling me how powerful I supposedly was. When I had recovered, Tristan allowed me to lean on him as we walked along.

We reached a small cabin that was built in a clearing. "This is my home," Tristan told me as we approached it, "Well, when I'm not doing errands for my father..."

"I like it," I told him, "It seems to be very peaceful,"

He nodded. "No one ever dares to invade my privacy when I'm here," He informed me, "That is why I took you here, so that you can figure out how to winnow us to the Night Court undisturbed."

"Why me?" I asked him, "You know I don't know what I'm doing. That's how I ended up here in the first place."

"I don't think I would physically be able to winnow into the Night Court," Tristan responded, "Because of our grudges," He reminded me.

I groaned and stood in the center of the clearing. I closed my eyes and squeezed my hands into fists; desperately attempting to re-create the magic I had mistakenly done this morning to no avail.

Tristan thought that this was one big joke. "Relax," He said in between his raucous laughter, "You're not going to be able to do it if you're so tense."

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes once more.

"There you go," He instructed, "Now think about where you want to go, and go there." He stepped away from me. "You're always welcome to come back here if you ever need anything," He assured me. He had too much faith in my ability to do magic.

I had a flashback of the Indian in the Cupboard movie: "You should not do magic you do not understand!" Yet here, I was.

Feet rooted solidly on the ground, I imagined the shimmering lights of Velaris as seen from the House of Wind. I was filled with a comforting feeling. I willed myself with every fiber of my being to return there…to return home. And sure enough after traveling briefly along the hypothetical magical rope, I was there.

"It worked," I said aloud to myself, in awe at what I had just done. I picked myself off of the floor of the balcony and looked around. Mor was staring at me, with her eyes wide, awestruck.

"Where did you come from?" She asked me urgently.

I knew that I couldn't think of where I had been or someone might pick it out of my brain. "Uh…I don't exactly know," I said uneasily, "I don't know why I keep ending up in strange places," The frustration I expressed when saying this was real and raw.

"What happened?" She asked me, touching my shoulder as if to comfort me.

"I-I'm not sure," I responded, "I was sitting on my bed with Feyre and Rhysand and things got awkward… and the next thing I knew… I was on the ground in some place I've never been before."

Mor sighed. "They'll be happy to hear that you've returned without hurting yourself."

I nodded. "I'm happy about that too," I responded sincerely.

In that moment, for some unknown reason, I thought of Tristan. I wondered if he was also thinking of me.

Hi lovely readers! I'm so pumped that ACOWAR is coming out next week! I'm planning on continuing this story after reading it, and hopefully incorporating wherever it goes into this fanfic... given my poetic license. Thank you for all of your kind reviews! Let me know what you'd like to see next as I continue to work on this :) Also, I'd like to thank you for your patience. I am finishing college and I am swamped but I think about this story a lot!