And then another bush bloomed in its place. A black metal trunk that expanded and twisted in on itself and grew thorns that resembled deadly spikes. When the skeleton of the bush was even larger than the one I’d created, she stopped, and red roses made of gleaming metal formed from the branches and glinted in the sunlight.
The audience was rioting, jumping up and down in their queen’s presumed victory—even if they didn’t truly understand the subtext of her attack.
The queen lowered her arms, turned to the crowd, and gave a graceful curtsy, indicating that her conjuring was complete.
Wasting no time, the blue flame shot a tendril of fire in my direction. It was my turn again, my last shot. Clearly, my reminder of her family symbol had gotten to her. I had to do that again, but better. I had to hit her where it hurt most, and I thought I knew exactly what to do.
My second conjuring materialized in disjointed bits and pieces. It hovered in the glittering air, facing me, while I envisioned each piece and painstakingly brought it into being. A solid gold arm appeared first, then a portion of a dress skirt, followed by a torso. I sucked in a breath and reached back in my memory, pushing myself all the way to my limits as I bid the aether to do as I wished.
The last thing to emerge from the shimmering light was my mother’s face. How she looked at the exact moment that she was begging her sister for her life. Every line, every tear, every feature was perfect—heart-wrenching. The moment it all came together, I turned my conjuring to face my aunt and dropped the statue on the ground.
Her gasp rang through the silent arena as she took in the face of her sister seconds before she killed her.
I smirked, savagely pleased with myself, as the Red Queen dragged her eyes up from the statue to meet mine.
Take that, bitch. Oh shit—
The queen didn’t even wait for the flame to dictate that it was her turn. She whipped the aether into a frenzy so hard that the air in the lawn swirled like a cyclone.
Members of the audience ducked, and a few people cried out in surprise. My own heart began beating a mile a minute.
I’d obviously done more than hit a nerve; I’denragedthe queen. Was she about to say ‘fuck it,’ and lash out against me? Kill my friends?
I took a half step back, spreading my arms wide to defend them.
However, the queen took no notice of me, or them, as her conjuring appeared and grew toward the sky. The air crackled with energy, and took on a taste—slightly metallic.
Everyone in the crowd tilted their heads, trying to puzzle out the conjuring. The moment it became clear, I sucked in a breath.
A guillotine crafted of black metal towered fifty feet high, as impressive as it was terrible. A blade glinted at the top, and at the bottom were realistic mannequins of my friends, each kneeling with their heads through the stocks.
And just when I thought she was done, the Red Queen lifted her arms and snapped.
The blade fell, barreling toward the ground until it sliced through the mannequins’ necks. Their heads rolled and stopped at my feet.
Chapter 27
“Relax.” Arlan’s hand brushed my arm, bringing attention to the fact that I was vibrating with rage as we marched toward Heartfire Hall to the first post-trial feast. “Don’t let her see that she got to you.”
I inhaled slowly, trying to bring my emotions and reactions under control.
Since the conjuring trial, I’d been amped up, unable to concentrate while the others helped me practice with my aether or discuss strategy.
“You’re right, but I can’t help but think about the look on her face. There was absolutely no remorse there after either conjuring. I mean, she chopped off your heads . . . how are you all dealing with that so well?”
“We’ve been her subjects for years,” Henri piped up. “We’re used to falling back on silence when the queen acts poorly—which is more often than not. Those who don’t stay silent often perish.”
I shook my head, unable to comprehend such behavior from the queen. She didn’t behave as though her subjects, or their opinions, were worth a damn.
“Is there anyone she respects?” I asked.
“Her witches,” Sansu, Henri, and Alran replied in unison.
“And maybe the king consort,” Sansu added, “a little.”
“We need to make getting to the witches a priority,” I said.
“Dee and Dum have been on the lookout, learning where the witches’ rooms are, watching their movements.” Hatter shook the cape he wore. Beneath it, the pixies were hiding until the moment they would split off to spy. “Have you two found anything helpful?”
