“I’ll fly to get them.Alone.”
I gaped. “Henri, that doesn’t even make sense. They’ll catch you in a second! We need you as much as we need them. There has to be another—”
A tinny voice pierced the air, and my gaze shot up to the platform. Although I could barely see it now that I was no longer on Henri’s shoulders, long white ears and a pop of color from a blue waistcoat stood out above the crowd.
“Is that . . . Herald?”
“Yeah,” Hatter’s tone dipped, “and if he’s here, Isadora was right to be terrified.”
I was about to ask what he meant by that when Herald began reading from a scroll. “By order of the Queen of Hearts, the troublemakers Circe Blackthorn and March Hare are sentenced to immediate death for the crime of injuring Her Majesty’s bandersnatch.”
My throat closed up.Immediate death? What the fuck?!
“Hatter!” I whisper-screamed. “We have to hurry!”
But it was no use, for as soon as Herald proclaimed the sentence, the monstrous troll pulled an axe out from behind him, and sliced through March’s neck.
My hands flew to my mouth, and a strangled sound mixed with the cheers of the screwed-up, enchanted crowd.
“Circe! Hatter, we have to fly.”
My wings snapped out, but Hatter’s hand wrapped around my wrist, stopping me as the axe thunked against wood a second time.
“It’s too late,” Henri choked out. “We’re too late.”
Chapter 22
The mass exodus of the crowd, combined with our wish to avoid the soldiers clogging the streets, resulted in a delay in our return to headquarters. When we walked in the door, Isadora’s eyes locked with mine.
My mouth went dry.
“Princess Alice?” Her voice trembled like a leaf in the wind. “My daughter?”
I went to her, and wrapped my arms around the brownie. “I’m so sorry, Isadora. The queen’s men caught her . . . And the queen passed a judgment already.”
I didn’t have to say what the judgment was. According to the rebels, the queen had never acted so swiftly, but her punishment for dire crimes wasalwaysthe same.
“We were too late . . .” I gulped down the lump rising up my throat. “I’m so sorry. Really, I am.”
The woman collapsed in my arms. The wail that escaped her pierced my heart, but knowing there was nothing that I could do or say to make her situation better or even the tiniest bit brighter, I simply held her tight.
Hatter would deny it, but I felt responsible for both Circe’s and March’s deaths. Maybe for others too. As we’d fled the scene, the soldiers had picked off a few more people, those who didn’t appear as jubilant about the beheading.
Perhaps they were dead by now too.
“Isadora?” Hatter’s soft voice cut through my mounting guilt. “Can I get you something? Tea? Water? A place to lie down?”
The fae lifted her head. Tears streaked her face, and the whites around her dark brown irises were as red as the roses that decorated the city. “A—a—alone. I’d like to be alone.”
“Dum?” Hatter waved the pixie forward. “Will you please show Isadora to an empty room? And stay nearby in case she needs anything?”
It was a good choice. Dum was sensitive, but she also knew when to be strong for someone who needed it.
Isadora released me, and allowed Dum to lead her up the stairs to a private space to grieve. When they disappeared at the top of the landing, my pretense of strength faltered, and my shoulders slumped.
Henri placed a steadying hand on me. “Thank you for that. Isadora won’t be okay for some time, but I think your touch, your condolences, will help her—eventually.”
“How?” I murmured, not even looking him in the face.
