The humble smile on the king’s face faltered. “You wish to leave? All of this?”
She followed his spindly fingers waving over the courtyard. It was beautiful, the snow sparkling like gemstones in the darkness, the serenity, the magic that answered every whim. Kaz even seemed to enjoy himself. In the days that Amma had been helping Wil, she negotiated what staying there would be like if it became necessary for longer than a few days. It was comfortable, safe, and she had a bedchamber—one she shared with Damien—though she had always planned to leave.
But theycouldstay there, couldn’t they? The two of them, forgetting about the world beyond the Everdarque. Neither she nor Damien would have to go home, to be beholden to those there. And they could keep sharing that bed.
King Wil’s face changed again, lips curling upward. “Your mind wavers. Humans, so fickle.” He let out a small laugh. “What else could you wish of me? I can give you anything, you know, though humans often ask for the same few things: riches, love, power. Why not all of it? I could make you a queen.”
Amma felt her skin go warm. She’d seen Wil conjure everything in the palace from the robe she wore to the massive hearth in the ballroom, the pines, the lake, the very snowflakes falling on her eyelashes. She blinked up at the fae king’s smile of too many pointed teeth, a smile that spread over his tapered jaw and reached right up to his icy irises, filling them with a mischievous expectation. Hecoulddo anything, and if Amma had the opportunity to get exactly what she wanted…
“You can make me powerful?” she asked in a voice that was so quiet she was unsure she had spoken at all.
His grin only grew, and like that, it seemed too wide, extending beyond anything human. “More powerful than you could ever imagine.”
Amma’s throat felt thick, and her heartbeat slowed. She could be strong enough to will the talisman out of her and leave herself whole, to return to Faebarrow with power unimaginable and ensure her people’s safety, to help Damien in some way that didn’t force him to bring destruction to everything around them. And maybe if she could show him just how strong she’d become, Damien would see her the way she wanted him to.
“I’d like to be strong,” Amma said though her voice were still soft, fingers clenching, tears pricking at the backs of her eyes at just the thought. “How would you do it?”
The fae king laid his hand flat, and the snow that gathered in his palm lifted up, swirled about, and in its place sat a transparent cup, frosty, the liquid inside thick and silver.
“What is it?”
“Power,” he said, simply.
“This is what makes fae powerful?”
“Well, we have always been this way. But for a creature like yourself,”—he chuckled, and the cup raised up from his palm to float before her—“itcouldbe existence altering.”
Amma put her hands out, and the icy chalice set itself on her palms. The shining surface inside moved over itself, exactly like the streams of silver she had seen in the fissures back in Aszath Koth when The Brotherhood had summoned Kaz, that image, so beautiful, still starkly in her mind. The mirror-like surface of the drink showed the deep violet of the sky, every fleck of snow as it fell, and her own face when she brought it close.
The girl who looked back was afraid. She was naive and frail and pathetic, and if only she could be stronger, bolder, smarter—but all that was in that cup, wasn’t it? It was within her reach to be a better baroness, to be a better friend, to be a better woman, and all she had to do was drink.
“Sanguinisui, stop!”
Amma froze, the cup to her lips. The smell hit her then, smoldering ash and metallic blood, and her mind fizzled. Bloodthorne’s Talisman of Enthrallment pulsed through her, and her body reacted without her mind’s permission, holding completely still, but her knees were weak, and she was sure she was going to faint.
The cup was snatched from her hand and thrown, shattering somewhere in the courtyard, but Amma could see none of it, ordered by magic not to move.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Damien was beside her. “That would have killed her!”
“Oh, no, you cannot know a thing like that for certain.” The fae king held his hands up, laughing. “It onlycouldhave killed her!”
Damien growled, hands clenched, and then he rounded on Amma. “And you,” he said with a bite, “what in the Abyss were you thinking?”
Amma’s heart fluttered like a panicked moth. She was still trapped under the spell, muscles aching, her breath refusing to come. He had told her to stop, and she had, unable to move, to even breathe, until he released her, but he was so angry, he didn’t even notice.
“I’m sure she was thinking that she was about to get exactly what her heart desires,” said Wil.
Damien turned to him again, away from Amma and the spell he was leaving her under. “She did not ask you forthat,” he spat. “She intended to request a return to our plane.”
The fae king smiled fiendishly. “Oh, but she didn’t.”
“Yes, she did,” Damien growled, and then whirled toward her again. “You did, didn’t you?”
Amma tried to speak, but nothing came, throat not moving, tongue frozen, head feeling like it would explode as her vision tunneled.
Then Damien realized all at once what he had done—using his arcana in the Everdarque where it would not fully listen to him. “Amma,sanguinisui, be…be normal?”
Amma stumbled, arms falling, head heavy as she sucked in a huge breath. Damien grabbed her, but when she was steady, she shook him off.
