Chapter 36
The darkness erases any form of vision. This is the darkness that comes to visit you in the middle of the night, in your dreams, in your nightmares.
Marik starts laughing again, and I want to yell at him to shut up.
The stag is still at my feet, his body now tense at the sudden shift in the room.
I don’t know what the fuck is going on, but my magic is broiling and ready to fight. I hear people shifting in their seats, muttering, asking if this is a part of the ceremony.
It’s not. Something bad is happening. I just don’t know what yet.
“Mae Bailey…High Queen to Nothing,” an eerie voice calls from across the room. The voice is familiar, but I can’t place it.
I hear Marik as he stands from the throne, his clothes rustling as he stands. Footsteps come closer to me. I consider running, but I have no idea who—or what—I would run into. I stand stock-still, ready to fight the moment he touches me.
But when he does, my magic goes silent.
“Remember me?” Marik’s voice comes from behind me, his breath hot against my ear.
My blood turns cold. The scrape of claws, just like before, trails up my right arm. I fight back a shiver. I choke down a scream.
“It was you. You were the one who attacked me,” I whisper.
“Didn’t my brother tell you I had a temper?” His voice rumbles in my ear.
Bile lurches up my throat, but I swallow it. His claws press harder into my arm, and I grit my teeth, refusing to show my pain.
“I did not appreciate you embarrassing me in the pool the other night with him.”
“How was it you? I saw you on the porch with Willa,” I say.
“It’s a part of me. It lives inside of me, but I can command it to do my bidding separately if I will it.”
“You’re a monster,” I say, disgust dripping from every word.
“Yes, I suppose I am. But I had a little help,” he says.
Finally, the darkness lifts.
He releases me. My magic comes flooding back to me, and I stumble from the force of it returning. He backs away from me and gestures to the crowd.
I spare a glance backward. Elle stands, knife out, watching Marik with cold, calculating eyes.
Holly stands beside her, no weapon in hand.
Magic is her first choice of offense—or defense.
Luca and Ivan are side-by-side at the back of the stage, muttering under their breath furiously.
Suddenly, Luca turns and darts to the door at the back of the stage, discreetly hidden in the wall.
Marik takes no notice.
Ivan steps forward. “Marik, what is the meaning of this?” His voice is commanding, full of authority. Guards begin to file in slowly from the back entrance, taking position on the periphery of the room.
“It’s High King now,” he says dismissively. He whips his head to the crowd and shouts, “Cora! Please come to the stage!”
I turn my head back to the crowd, waiting to see who steps up. My eyes catch on Asmo, who’s looking at me with a panicked expression on his face. He’s trying to stand up, but Vasuki places an arm out and across his chest, ordering him to sit back down.
Suddenly, a single female stands in the back. She slowly walks down the aisle. It’s the old woman from the greenhouse. Her cane is gone, and she walks with an ease that wasn’t there before.
I glance at Marik again, but he’s not looking at me. He’s looking at the old woman, his eyes fixed on her with an intensity that reminds me of the way he glared at Asmo the night of the pool party. But he doesn’t look mad. He looks…captivated.
The woman makes her way down the aisle, then she stops just before the stage and looks at me.
“Hello, Mae,” she says. Her voice doesn’t sound quite like I remember, and her eyes are clear, no longer milky. Now her eyes are almost entirely white, just like the full moon.
“You…” I say.
“Yes, me,” she says, the grin on her face spreading. Suddenly, she hops on the stage with a surprising grace and speed. Ivan and Luca step in front of me, but I order them back with a wave of my hand.
She looks to Marik with a soft smile and says, “Hello, King Marik. Congratulations on your newly appointed title as High King of the Woodland Kingdom.” He walks to her and stops when he’s beside her.
He wraps an arm around her shoulders, never taking his eyes from her.
He’s staring at her with utter adoration in his eyes.
“What’s going on here?” I look from him to her. “Marik?” I ask, my voice pleading, hoping he’s about to tell me this is just one big misunderstanding.
The old woman places an arm around Marik’s waist and says simply, “Marik and I are here to take the throne.”
My jaw drops, and now it’s my turn to laugh. Marik’s eyes furrow, his gaze shooting to me as soon as I do. Now this gaze is familiar to me. He’s looking at me the same way he looked at Asmo the other night like he wants to rip me limb from limb.
“You’re serious?” It’s the only thing I can think to say.
“Here’s what’s going to happen, Mae,” Marik says, his voice quiet, only for me and the elderly woman beside him to hear.
“You’re going to denounce your right to the throne and transfer it to her.
Or you’re going to die. And now that I’m the High King, the throne will be transferred to me anyway.
You can leave the throne, dead or alive, but either way, you’re leaving it. ”
My jaw drops again. “You’re serious,” I whisper. “You’re fucking crazy. How did I not see this? Who the fuck is she?” I ask, fury lacing my voice as I look at the crone.
“You know who I am,” she says softly. Her voice is familiar, but I can’t place it. “Come now, Mae. Don’t be stupid.”
I ignore her, instead focusing on their idiotic plan. “Your plan is to just take the throne or kill me and then take the throne? That’s your master plan?” I ask incredulously.
“Legally, if you die, the throne is mine to do what I want.” He glances down and straightens his tie, as if this conversation is boring him.
I want to look back to Ivan, Luca, Elle, anyone, to see if that’s true, but I don’t. I stay focused on who is in front of me. I’m not turning my back on either of them for a second.
“Was this your plan all along?” I sneer at him.
“The plan was to make you choose me, no matter how I had to do it.”
Beside him, the crone says, “You were foolish, Mae. Time to give it up.”
“And what are you going to do with the throne?” I shoot back.
“Restore the witches,” she says simply, as if she couldn’t believe I’d even ask that question.
“So, you are a witch,” I say. “You’re responsible for the cambion and the osseris attacks. I take it you’re responsible for the death of my father then, too.”
She nods once, a smile on her face, before she starts clapping. “Very good, Mae. Finally putting that brain of yours to use.”
“What about the story you told me in the greenhouse? Was it true?”
“Every bit of what I told you was true.”
I look to Marik. “What about you? Did you lie to me about how you felt?”
He shakes his head once. “I was very careful in what I said to you.”
I look from her to Marik, and some of the loose threads come together, brushing against each other, refusing to move.
I look at Marik and say, “You’re the one who gave her access to the grounds.
You both pretended like the cambion attacked you so I’d have to come rescue you.
You knew I’d feel bad for you and spend extra time with you because you were attacked.
You knew that it would bring us closer.”
He nods and shrugs. “It worked.”
“What about the attack at Willa’s? On Cally?”
“I don’t think you’re ready for that bit of truth yet,” Marik says, his tone serious.
“What does that even mean?” I ask, exasperated.
“Oh, let’s just put her out of her misery,” the crone says. Behind me, I can hear shifting, like people are getting ready to attack her at the implication of a potential threat. But she doesn’t attack.
Instead, she begins to transform in front of us.
I’ve never seen anything like it, but then again, I’ve never seen a witch.
The transformation begins, and the top of her gray hair turns black, straightening into glossy waves of raven hair, growing longer.
Her skin transforms, no longer wrinkled and saggy. I know the face.
Realization hits me like an arrow. I can’t speak.
No.
It can’t be.
“Hello, Mae,” Willa whispers, a smile on her face.