Prince of Fire by Linda Winstead Jones

willing to speak with him for the few moments he was allowed to stay in the world in-between, bat today there were many. Too many. Joryn searched the crowded meadow. Hundreds of spirits faced him, solemn and on edge.
    Though the land in-between was not paradise, it was a peaceful place for those who waited. There was usually little solemnity here, and he had never felt this sort of tightly coiled energy before, not even from the most restless of spirits.
    One male spirit, dressed in a brilliant white robe and carrying a large gray feather which had some meaning Joryn did not understand, stepped forward. "I have been chosen to speak," he said. "There is no time to tell you all you will need to know, but hear me well. The Red Queen speaks the truth. She did not curse your people. You share a common enemy, and you must trust her."
    "She is Anwyn," Joryn said simply. The very idea of trusting an Anwyn was foreign to him, almost unthinkable.
    "She is good, and so are you. Everything else must be put aside, until the Isen Demon is defeated."
    "Isen Demon," Joryn repeated.
    The gray feather trembled. "It is an eater of souls that will destroy the world you live in, and when that is done, it will move here, where no evil was meant to tread."
    "Eater of—"
    "Yes! He is on a path of utter destruction, and if he makes his way to mis place, the walls between your world and this one will fall. The walls will crumble, and nothing will ever again be as it should be. You and the Queen must unite your people. Together."
    Joryn shook his head. "Impossible."
    "You'd best hope, as we do, that it is not. Now go," The spirit gave Joryn a shove. "You cannot come here again, not until the evil has been stopped. The dark energy the demon creates in your world disrupts the doorways, and it is not safe for you to use them again."
    "But if I need guidance ..."
    "The Red Queen will guide you. Listen to her."
    Joryn was horrified by that prospect, but he had no time to argue. The spirit gave him another, more forceful shove, and he fell backward toward the narrowing doorway. Before he could fall through to the place where he would begin this journey, something caught his arm. Something strong. Whatever stopped him had been in this land a long time—longer than was usual. Otherwise such strength would not be possible. A male spirit's taut, pale face hovered above Joryn's for a moment. Time seemed to stop.
    "Find my sons. They are rightful heirs." His expression softened. "Find Liane. Tell her I'm waiting." The hold on Joryn's arm was suddenly gone, and he fell backward through the fiery doorway. He landed on the ground with a thud, just as the moon began to rise. With his gaze on that moon and his mind reeling with questions, his bones began to shift.
    * * * * *
    The last night of the full moon passed with more alarming and vivid dreams. Keelia began to wish for the horrid and violent nightmares which had been disturbing her sleep for the past few months. Those night-marcs left her shaken and uncertain, but she was able to dismiss them because the subjects of those dreams didn't arrive in person scon after—or before—she awoke.
    This morning sne woke to find the subject of last night's dream staring at her. Staring as he always had, and yet—differently. He seemed more skeptical than angry. More uncertain than she had seen him to this point.
    He held a key in one hand.
    As he rammed the key into the lock in her prison door, he began to issue orders. "Dress yourself, Your Red Supremeness. We're going for a long walk." His head snapped up before he unlocked the door, and those green eyes warned her. "Unsheathe your claws to threaten me and I will burn you, I swear it. Can we call a trace, you and I?"
    Keelia nodded as she jumped to her feet and reached for the gown which had been neatly folded and placed on her cot "Yes, a truce most definitely will be necessary to accomplish that which must be done. And please, I did ask you to call me Keelia." Your