39. The Queen’s Trap – Elias
The Queen's Trap
ELIAS
The unseelie castle loomed before us like a wound in the twilight sky as we exited the courtyard’s hidden passage. What had once been a place of dark beauty now radiated malevolence so thick it made breathing difficult. The very air tasted of copper and despair.
"Something's wrong," I murmured, pulling Rosemary closer as we crouched behind the crumbling wall that marked the castle's outer defenses. "It's too quiet. No guards, no movement. After everything we've done, all the chaos we've caused, she should have an army waiting for us."
Darius nodded grimly from where he knelt beside Briar. "Mother never leaves anything to chance. If the outer defenses appear abandoned, it means she wants us to reach the throne room."
"A trap," Briar said, her voice steady despite the tension radiating from her small frame. "She's herding us exactly where she wants us."
Through the castle's tall windows, an eerie green light pulsed like a diseased heartbeat. I could feel the weight of my mother's attention pressing against my mind, not trying to enter but letting me know she was watching, waiting, savoring the anticipation of our arrival.
"We could wait," Rosemary suggested, though I could hear the doubt in her voice. "Find another way in, catch her off guard."
"There is no other way," I replied, hating the truth of it. "She's had a century to prepare for this moment. Every path leads to the same destination." I squeezed her hand, drawing strength from her steady warmth. "But that doesn't mean we walk into it blind."
She glanced toward the castle, jaw tight.
“I know you’ve probably come up with some brilliant plan for how to take her down.
But I need you to stay out of my way.” Her voice was quiet but firm, carrying a new edge of resolve.
“I have my own plan. One I’ve held onto through every sleepless night, through every drop of moldy water, through every lie she wrapped around me. ”
Briar stood, worry knitting her brow. “Rosie… you could barely stand an hour ago.”
“She’s right,” Darius added. “That potion gave you a burst, sure. But even you call it a failed attempt.”
Rosemary wavered, just for a breath, and I saw it. The tremble in her fingers, the ghost of the cell still clinging to her bones. But the fire in her eyes hadn’t dimmed. Not at all. Still, I stepped closer, placing a hand gently at her back.
“You don’t have to do this alone anymore,” I said. “You’ve carried this for too long. Let us carry some of it with you.”
“She hurt all of us,” Briar said, her voice thick with emotion. “We all deserve to face her.”
Darius unsheathed his blade slowly, his expression hard. “And we all have reasons to end her.”
Rosemary looked at us one by one, the fight still bristling behind her gaze, but something softer blooming beneath it. Her breath hitched. Just slightly. The kind of sound someone made when the weight they’d carried finally shifted just enough to breathe.
“All right,” she whispered. “But if this falls apart, follow my lead.”
We nodded as one.
As we approached the main gate, the massive iron doors swung open with a groan that seemed to echo from the depths of the earth itself. No guards emerged. No voices called out challenges. Just that terrible, yawning darkness beckoning us forward.
The entry hall stretched before us like the throat of some massive beast, lined with portraits whose painted eyes seemed to track our movement. Torches flared to life as we passed, creating a pathway of flickering illumination that led inexorably toward the throne room.
"Ready?" Darius asked, though his voice carried the weight of someone preparing for battle against impossible odds.
"No," I admitted. "But let's do it anyway."
We stepped forward into my mother's domain, and the doors slammed shut behind us with the finality of a tomb sealing.