The blast of a trumpet cut me off, and my attention snapped toward the door to find that Herald had arrived with the jar of godsflame.
I inhaled. This was it. The moment of truth—one of three chances I had to best my aunt.
“Attention, please!” Herald called, although the crowd had already fallen silent. “The flame has made its choice and is ready to present the winner of the conjuring challenge.”
Everyone in the room leaned forward. Blood pounded in my ears as I gripped the side of the table.
“Without further ado, I shall reveal the winner.”
Herald rolled up his scroll and twisted the lid off the jar. The blue flame flashed out of the container, and then promptly disappeared.
What the hell happened? Where is it? What’s going—
My heart stopped as the crowd roared.
Oh no. No. No. No. This can’t happen . . .
My throat constricted, but as much as I didn’t want to confirm my fear, I had to know the truth. I twisted to face my aunt.
She was beaming and waving at the crowd, glowing with a happiness that was enhanced by the illumination of the blue godsflame hovering over her head.
A pit formed in my stomach.
Realistically, I understood that the queen’s displays of conjuring had been more impressive. But how could the godsflame be so cruel? Had it not seen the violence my aunt displayed when her conjuring melted my own? Or when she beheaded replicas of the very people who stood behind me?
“Thank you. Thank you, dear subjects,” the queen clapped for silence. “I appreciate all your love and support during these troubling times.” She brought her hands together, placing them on her heart as if she truly meant the words. “I compete in these challenges for every one of you, so that you might have your rightful queen.”
Her eyes slid to meet mine. “And with that, I’d like to say, in all sincerity, let the best aether-blessed fae win.”
I kicked open the door to our tower room, grabbed the first thing I saw, an elaborate red and white vase, and hurled it across the room. It shattered, and I pivoted, looking for the next thing I could destroy.
The final hour of the feast had been sheer hell. After the godsflame decided the winner, many subjects of Wonderland felt compelled to tell me how much they wanted me to lose.
Dozens of fae hated me, and wanted me to fail. They calledmeusurper. Of course, they were wrong, enchanted to believe a lie, and I should have felt bad for them.
But it was so difficult, sitting there, sucking it up. The moment that Herald had proclaimed that the godsflame wished for the feast to end and the next trial to commence at midday tomorrow, I’d shot out of my seat and left.
“Alice, you must calm down.” Henri walked through the door behind me, as unruffled as ever.
“It’s natural to be angry,” I shot back. “I lost. Most of the fae here hate me, and I only have until noon tomorrow to prepare for the next trial. What if it’s the creatures trial? I’ve never called a creature in my life!”
Henri was about to respond, when the sound of yelling from somewhere in the tower hit my ear.
“What the—”
I remembered that the witch who’d caught Dee and Dum spying mentioned they would be in our suite.
“Oh god! The pixies! Where are they?”
A frenzy of searching ensued, and finally I found the twins trapped in a glass jar with a few holes poked in the lid under my bed. I pulled the jar out and unscrewed the lid, but the pixies didn’t fly out.
My brow furrowed. “What’s wrong—oh!”
Why they hadn’t immediately escaped their prison became clear. Their little wings had been cruelly sealed together to resemble shark fins rather than diaphanous wings.
“Girls! I’m so sorry that this happened to you. How can we get them apart?” I reached into the jar to help them out, and began feeling for a seam along their wings.
Dum pulled away as if my touch had hurt her, and I retracted my fingers.
