I’m still dizzy, stupefied.
My brother approaches me, Lidiane at his side, and says, “Marlak, you need to put on the crown.”
That must be a joke. “Now?” I snap.
“The Crystal Court guard swear oaths binding them to the crown, so they’ll obey you. Tell the guards not to follow the lower fae, tell them that the Crystal Court decrees that they should be set free.”
I’m not sure it’s necessary. “Most of them are behind walls of ice.”
“You can still yell, and it will ensure they don’t follow the fae.”
That actually makes sense—except that it must be some kind of trick, coming from my brother. He can’t be thinking of the wellbeing of the lower fae. At the same time, it’s true that commanding the guards could be a good idea.
I never thought I’d declare myself king like that, that it would be so easy. Easy and hard at the same time. Perhaps I never hoped that my brother would abdicate his power without a fight.
I focus on that dreadful object, part of the Crystal Court treasure, the symbol of its ruler. A gold circlet appears on my hand, and I place it on my head. A current of power runs through me.
“Attention, guards!” I yell. “You must not follow the lower fae. They must be set free. This is Marlak Goldenstar, the true king of the Crystal Court, and I declare that all the previouslyenchanted lower fae are now free. You have no right to hunt them, no right to imprison them, no right to kill or harm them.”
The few guards in the plaza stare at me in silence, their feet and hands still locked in ice.
I’ve always dreamed of declaring the freedom of the lower fae, and yet now, I don’t even know if my words did anything, if they affected them, if the guards even believe I’m the true Crystal Court king.
It’s time to leave.
“Done. Happy?” I ask my brother.
“No. Tarlia’s taken. I’m nothappy, but this is the right thing to do.”
As if he cared for what’s right. I shouldn’t be angry at him, shouldn’t let resentment poison me, and yet I can’t forget that he was the only one who escaped the fire unscathed. As if it wasn’t enough, he benefited from it, pretended to be the king for years, while I was cast out. But this is not the time to dwell on it.
“Let’s go,” I say.
Lidiane whispers, “Do you want to find a river?”
I glance at my brother, then decide that Ferer could take him through a circle, while we use the rivers, so I nod—but something’s wrong.
Lidiane makes a choking sound and places her hand on her neck. None of my companions seem to be able to breathe either.
As far as I know, only two fae have air magic strong enough to choke an entire group. Three, counting me—but I’m obviously not doing it. And if Azur is in the Shadow Lands…
4
ASTRA
Completely unhinged. Either brilliant or idiotic. I have no time to ponder, since the Witch King is about to stab Azur again.
I close my eyes and focus on Dusklight—or Downshadow. I imagine its pommel, imagine its blade, feel it in my hands.
In front of me, the Witch King holds the dagger. He’s about to kill Azur. As much as I don’t care for him, I can’t let it happen, and yet the sight is so distracting that it’s not letting me focus on the sword.
My sword.
I recall Marlak in front of me, grumpy as ever.Wife. Don’t be difficult. It’s the sword I had. My wedding gift.
I feel it in my hand.
Downshadow. The legendary sword that beheaded the Witch King. I’m sure it can take another turn at it.
