37. Keira #2
“I know.” He pulls me even closer. “The moment we make the call over the city, she will become aware of what we are doing. She will try to stop it.”
“Then we stick to the plan. As soon as the sun goes down and we have won, the second my bargain is broken, we storm the palace with everything we have and we kill the tyrant. I will do it with my teeth and bare hands if I have to.” The bargain flares within me at the thought, but it won’t be able to do a damned thing once we win.
Fury boils within me whenever I consider Titania. Every torment she has put us and the fae of the capital through, just to keep her twisted grasp on power. To feed her ego.
Her life is forfeit.
She does not deserve mercy or to be heard at a trial.Not when her crimes are clear to see.It twists up my insides and has an inferno of rage burning bright within me that she is not dead already.
Any politicians of her inner circle who aided in her atrocities are also marked for death.
The Truth Templars and the Wildrose Guard who enacted her will.
I’ll do it myself, even if my hands are marked red for the rest of my life from all the blood I will spill.
The only fae who may receive an exemption are those civilians who were caught up in her web of lies.
The sun sits huge and heavy over the horizon as we glide back toward the City of Vertical Gardens, still two hours until it sets.
Ezekiel circles around the outskirts of the city, slowly winding his way in as we compel the people below to vote.
Aldrin’s huge body wrapped around mine becomes stiffer by the moment in anticipation.
Titania must know.
Her retribution must be in action right now.
We cannot feel a hint of it. My heart aches at the thought of what she must be doing to Sasha in my place, and I only hope that we can seize power in time to rescue her before any permanent damage is done.
We spiral closer and closer to the palace, both trembling with fatigue and the drain on our magic.
The pull is so much greater here, with so many fae in one place.
Ezekiel flies us right over the wealthy districts hugging the core of the city, then up the spires and peaks of the palace itself.
Relief floods me the moment he pulls away.
The entirety of the Spring Court has been summoned to vote, with the sun only an hour away from setting.
Our destiny is in fate’s hands now.
I glance over my shoulder, taking in Aldrin’s wild eyes. “We did it! We actually called the vote in a single day.” I laugh out loud. Triumph makes my heart light.
“Yes, we did,” he says softly. “Whatever else happens, we have that.”
I feel untouchable as we fly though the city and back to our headquarters. We will band with others to replenish our magic, then we will pick up our weapons and storm the palace.
I won’t even consider the possibility of losing the election. Of how we would have no moves left and I would be stuck as a prisoner to that woman.
Ezekiel lands roughly on the rooftop balcony, jarring my bones. His exhaustion is clear in the way his wings hang low and he huffs steam without making a single snarky retort.
“Thank you, my friend.” Aldrin reaches around me to touch the dragon king’s shoulder, still keeping his other arm around my waist. “We couldn’t have done this without you. The next time your kingdom is under attack by a rival king, you will have my army at your back.”
I have traveled to another realm for you, Aldrin, King of the Spring Fae. I expect your gold at my disposal as well. Ezekiel lets out a tired wheeze. Now get off me so I can devour a few of your enemies, then sleep.
Aldrin laughs and says something cheerful, but I can hardly hear his voice over the ringing in my head. The entire world spins and dips around me, a numbness radiating from my chest.
I blink multiple times, then shake my head to dispel the sensation.
It only worsens.
It must be the sheer fatigue of the day getting the best of me. Or magic depletion.
Then I raise my hand before my eyes and gape at it in horror.
Ash rises up from it.
Thin tendrils curl away from my fingertips, and deep glowing cracks form across my hands. They travel slowly down my wrists, over my body, creeping up my face, stinging like cold seeping into the flesh.
“Aldrin!” I cry out, but even my own voice sounds distant.
Devastation blooms across his face. “No! No, Keira! Don’t go.
Don’t leave me. You have to fight it. I can’t do this without you.
” Aldrin lifts me in my seat, rotating me so I face him, then crushes me to his chest. His hands are in my hair, his lips on my rapidly deteriorating face, but I can’t speak anymore.
Too much of my body has turned to those channels of ash and I am only half here.
“No,” Aldrin continues to whisper while his tears fall upon me. “No. Nooo?—”
This slow rip and pull away from my current location is painful, as I fragment and exist in two places at once. I try to fight it with everything I have, to stay with Aldrin, but the power of the bargain was bestowed upon the fae by the gods, and it is not a thing a mere mortal can resist.
Its power is weakened, as though it does not know whether it is still in place with the election in motion. Perhaps we are winning. Perhaps it all rests on the tip of a knife’s blade and could go either way. The fact remains that the sun has not yet set and I am still at her mercy.
I slip out of Aldrin’s grasp and his animalistic cry is of pure heartbreak. It cuts off abruptly as I am suddenly somewhere else completely.
I open my eyes, hunched over and dragging in a ragged breath like my head has been held underwater for too long.
Fiery swirling eyes are right before my face.
Lips tattooed black and curled in a cruel smile.
Golden runes etched into pale skin, framed by black hair and a crown that doesn’t belong on her head.
Titania inspects me.
I try to bring up my fist, to plant it directly in her sneer and bloody up her teeth with as much force as I can manage, but my first instinct is a mistake. The glow of the bargain ties my arms tightly to my sides in magical restraints.
“Welcome back, little mouse.” She grabs my chin and slices her nails through my cheeks. “I have fun games planned for us.”
The blood immediately drains from my head as I am confronted by this nightmare.
Aldrin is a frantic mess in the back of my mind. He can hardly breathe, running his hands through his hair and near pulling it out, cursing and raging, screaming internally for me to come back.
I have to partially block him out, if I am going to survive here. He is normally the voice of calm reason within my head, but he has reached his limit and has been broken by it.
My gaze darts away from the High Chancellor, who blocks most of my visual field, as I try to find an advantage in this situation. Anyone I can hold as hostage against her, because my magic won’t fight her directly.
We are in the throne room, with probably fifty Wildrose Guards circling around us.
I expect to find Sasha bloody and beaten, a crumpled heap on the ground.
To see a dead, limp body with those blue-green eyes staring and sightless.
Instead, my gaze meets hers over Titania’s shoulder, through the bars of a highly ornate golden birdcage big enough to fit a fae. Tears streak down her face.
There isn’t a single scratch on her, but I can sense the magic of our bargain still thrumming strong and realize she did not betray our swap.
Rainier lies a bloodied mess before her cage, puffy, blackened eyes half open but hardly able to move.
Sasha has her hands through the bars, stroking his hair.
I know with terrible certainty that she watched them beat her son in front of her while he tried to protect her, without being able to help him.
Even now, she can’t heal him without Spring magic.
Titania digs her fingernails in deeper and drags my face back toward hers, still only inches away.
“You can imagine my surprise when I tossed the Queen of Nothing into this golden cage to put her on display for the entire city, and all the glamour fell from her. You see, the unique alloy of the bars stops magic.” All humor is gone from her voice.
She tosses me backward, and I stagger until I hit something hard. The chest of a man. I shudder with repulsion, because I know exactly who clutches my shoulder with one hand and brings a blade to my throat with the other.
Torin.
It’s always fucking Torin.
“That made me think there must be a spy in my midst.” Titania prances away from me, still holding my eye. “One with the exceptional glamour magic that only Aldrin’s most loyal Commander of the Special Forces is capable of, so I had all my people checked.”
“Of course my mother takes credit for my discoveries,” Torin snickers under his breath, only loud enough for me to hear.
She whirls toward the cages. “I want to know where Florian is,” she snarls, lips peeling back from her teeth.
My stomach drops as Torin turns me so I can see three cages: one empty, one with Sasha sprawled on her side, and the final with Drake crouching inside, all hints of his disguise gone.
He reaches out as far as his arm can extend toward his son, not quite able to touch him, talking to him in a constant, low stream.
Utter devastation twists his features and tears glisten on his cheeks.
He only has eyes for Rainier, ignoring everyone else in the room.
Fear and rage churn within me, and I pull up my magic. Nothing can hold me back any longer.
I need justice now .
I need violence now .
There is a blade at my throat, but I don’t care if Torin kills me with it, so long as I get to unleash my wrath.
I care! Aldrin roars in my mind. I care if you live or die! Don’t you dare risk yourself.