38. Keira
T here is an icy chill to the air up here, strung so high on the palace wall with the city sprawled out beneath us.
The strangest calm sits over the streets, as though every single person holds their breath, waiting for the calamity to unfold when the sun dips below the horizon.
It sits heavily over that precipice, illuminating the churned clouds with the prettiest pink light.
Nothing, absolutely nothing, has the right to be beautiful in this moment.
The siege remains in place around the palace. The rows of the Spring Court army hold their places. A lesser force of Wildrose Guards and Truth Templars face off with them at a distance of twenty feet, but they do not engage.
It is like we are all frozen in a single heartbeat of time, too afraid to breathe. Waiting to learn who won the election.
I sway, my head becoming fuzzy, but quickly catch myself as my arm brushes one of the spikes. That gentle contact slices both fabric and flesh, and a long, red line appears across my arm, a drop of blood rolling down it. I curse inwardly as I suck in a breath at the pain of the shallow wound.
The spikes must be magically enhanced to be so damned sharp.
There are six of them, placed around me and only inches away in all directions, forcing me to hold perfectly still in the center of my cage.
I am covered in my own blood, large amounts dried and crusted, with fresh trickles running over the top.
I can’t stop shaking, and not from the cold. Shock has set into my very bones.
Something scampers across the top of the wall that our three cages hang from, and I whip around too fast trying to get a look at it, earning myself another stinging slice. I only catch the tips of long, pointed ears and a bushy tail belonging to a small creature.
“By the fucking gods,” Drake spits. “Sasha, please tell me you can make sure the pixies, doxies and puka don’t try to eat us alive. Or any other vermin.”
My eyes widen as I stare at him, my skin flushing. “Are you joking? Please tell me you’re joking!”
“I wish I fucking was. These cages are relics from the dark ages. Fae would be left in them to die. You can imagine how long that takes for our kind, even with the beasts nibbling on you. Thank fuck there are no crows in this realm.” Drake runs his hands over his face and across his short-cropped hair, only succeeding in smearing blood over burgundy skin.
“I could keep them away if I had access to my magic, but I don’t.” Sasha’s voice is flat and her eyes look dead already. There are tear tracks down her face, creating clean channels among the pink smeared there.
“How? How can you do that?” I gasp.
“It is my extra ability. Some of us have them. I can control the mindless beasts. I have an affinity for low fae, and charisma with high fae.” She shrugs, as though nothing really matters anymore.
“Keira. Can you speak to Aldrin?” Drake asks urgently.
“No. The mate bond is silent.” That intense pang of longing and need throbs again, almost ripping me apart.
“One silver lining is that we won’t live for long in these modified cages. The moment we pass out, these spikes are impaling us.” Sasha’s voice is neutral, but she shakes so badly, it is clearly visible.
“Those bastards want us to die quickly,” Drake snarls.
“To be a distraction for Aldrin and our army. That is why they bleed us out and put these fucking spikes in here. But we aren’t going to do that.
We won’t pass out. We keep each other awake until Aldrin is victorious and takes the throne.
He will free us when he does. You will both win tonight, Keira.
I know it in my bones. We just need that fucking sun to go down and turn the tide of the battle. ”
This doesn’t feel real.
It can’t be.
I have come too far, won so many battles against Titania, only to die in another one of her cages.
My body slips to the side again, the exhaustion and shock settling around me like a heavy blanket.
A flash of white-hot agony rips through me as my side is stabbed an inch deep by another spike.
I grind my teeth through the pain as I extract myself off the metal.
I can’t even hold myself in place by gripping the bars of the cage. The contact burns my skin after seconds and my palms are covered in welts from my attempts.
Silence falls over us as we watch the sun inch closer to the horizon.
When half its brightly burning form is hidden, the heights of the sky turn a deep indigo.
When only a hint of the sun remains visible, the clouds turn black.
My heart pounds roughly when it sets completely, only a silver glow across the sky giving any indication it was there at all.
I frantically check my hands, wrists and arms for the mark, pulling up my dirty sleeves, desperate to learn the results of the election. There is nothing at all on my flesh.
“Why—why is there no mark?” I cry. “Did we do it wrong?” Tears spring to my eyes, blurring my vision, as my heart sinks.
We risked everything for this.
It was our final gamble.
“Look. LOOK!” Drake calls out, pointing to the fae in the siege far below.
Golden light swirls around them, trailing upward from their arms, escaping through clothing and armor.
The people react frantically, forgetting their posts for a heartbeat of time, lowering weapons and dragging up sleeves to examine their wrists.
Some even pull off arm guards to witness the results of the election.
Their voices carry all the way up to us, growing in volume and agitation until they become shouts and arguments. That golden light is dazzling with so many marks exposed at once, but they are too far away for me to make out whose name is written there.
“Can anyone read what the mark says?” I choke out, glancing between my two fellow captives. “Gods, I can’t read it!”
“It is too fucking far away.” Drake’s eyes are wild as they dart across the disintegrating battle lines below.
“The magic-blocking properties of the cages are stopping us from getting our mark, aren’t they?” My throat closes up as he nods.
Drake stands, earning multiple scrapes from the spikes that he hardly seems to notice, and rattles his cage.
I cringe at the smoke streaming from his tightly balled fists.
“Hey! HEY! Who won the election?” he screams to the people down below, but they cannot hear us.
Drake shouts and shouts, until he finally exhausts himself and kneels back down, head in his hands.
“We’ll find out soon enough,” Sasha mutters.
Almost as soon as the words are out of her mouth, an eerie, disembodied voice floats to us. It echoes in all the empty space around us, amplified by the many plinths around the city used for official announcements. My reaction is visceral, every single muscle tensing.
“It is time to rise up and kill the false king!” Titania roars, and my heart sinks.
“He thinks he can steal the throne from right underneath us. That he can force you to vote with manipulated magic, and corrupt the results! Aldrin did not win the election fairly. I would have won an honest election. His name etched on your skin is nothing but lies.”
I turn to Drake, my mouth hanging open and all my words gone. He gives me a feral grin. One that does not match his dire position.
“You did it, Keira.” His voice is gravelly. “You won the throne back fairly.”
This was Aldrin’s dream: to win back the popular vote. It is not enough, nowhere near enough to put us in a position to rule again, but it legitimizes our planned sacking of the palace and Titania’s death at our hands.
“The bargain no longer holds me!” I practically wail, something breaking deep inside of me. A well that held in all the fear and doubt, allowing it to wash free from my soul. “She can never call me back from Aldrin’s side again. I can kill her , if I can get my hands on her.”
“RISE UP FOR ME!” Titania continues. “Take up arms and protect your Spring Court from ruin at the hands of that incompetent fool. Only I can save you. He will empty the coffers with handouts, and then raise the taxes so you pay for his spending spree. He only cares about low fae, foreigners and humans. You will suffer under Aldrin’s rule. ”
I am so sick of hearing that woman’s lies. It is about time someone silenced her indefinitely.
“Aldrin would force you to abandon your current lifestyles,” Titania screeches.
“Compel you to leave the businesses you have worked so hard to build and move to the wilds. And why? So you can give all your precious magic to low fae who don’t want to work.
Who are neglecting the lands and their own children.
Why should we high fae live in the wilds to serve them?
We were born with greater power and should keep what is ours.
We are the superior fae. Humans and low fae should bow before us, not the other way around. RISE UP and fight this injustice!”
Her words have a drastic effect on the scene below us.
My heart stops.
Wildrose Guards and Truth Templars charge the siege line of the Spring Court army, letting out a mighty roar with their swords and axes held high.
I jolt as those two lines crash together.
The rippling air shields of our army take the brunt of the force, but it still pushes the rows of soldiers backward into each other.
It is utter madness. Shouts and screams, and the ringing of metal on metal.
Crimson spraying in clouds. Bodies falling to the ground and not getting up again. So much death.
My stomach twists. My eyes dry out from staring at the horrors before me.
I have never felt more helpless.
Then the common people stream out of their homes, some fighting each other in bloody, brutal battles and others racing toward the palace, swarming the army there. The greenery all around the city comes alive, joining the civil war as fae tap into their Spring magic.