A yell comes out of my throat, interrupted when the fall stops, and I feel as if my feet were yanked, even though I’m suspended mid air. My stomach drops, then feels as if it’s freezing. In a second, I realize I’m hanging, suspended by the ropes tying my feet, my companions in the same predicament as me. The ground is so far below us that a fall would mean instant death, and beside us, I see the vertical rocky wall of the hill.
Ziven snorts. “Stand down, really?”
“Yes, really,” Renel says. “You don’t want her to know…” He points at Ziven’s necklace.
I’m not sure if he’s right. While it might have been a good idea to hide Ziven’s water magic, I don’t know if he’ll be able to do anything at this point.
“Renel, undo our deal,” Mirella whispers.
A spark of hope lights in my chest. Her air wielding could save us.
“It will be fine,” he says.
His patience is grating on me. “What part of this do you think is fine?”
“The one where we’re not dead.”
I want to strangle him for a thousand reasons, but bringing us here might be the biggest one of all. “We’re hanging, in case you didn’t notice.”
“We’re alive. Be still, and don’t offend the queen.”
“Renel,” Mirella pleads.
“No,” he says.
What a prick. I bet he’s enjoying torturing his stepsister, but doesn’t he realize the danger we’re in? His face is still tense, though, so I don’t know what’s going on through his head.
I could try to grab the rope and climb back up but there are guards watching us and I don’t know what they can do. We’re a few feet away from the rock, but I could swing and then find some fissures to hold myself to. As I look at the wall to find a grip point, part of it simply disappears, giving way to an opening, where a dark-haired fae woman wearing a wooden crown smirks.
“Well, well, Prince Renel, so nice of you to come hang out with me.”
“Queen Berta, must I remind you of the hospitality treaty?” His voice is calm, confident, as if he was standing tall and facing her instead of hanging upside down.
The woman is wearing a silver dress up to her neck that looks like armor, and perhaps she’s here for a fight.
She grimaces. “Oh, you absolutely do not want to invoke any treaty, or things will get much, much worse. And again, who are you? As far as I heard, you’re no longer the acting king.”
“I’m the king’s brother.”
The queen taps her chin and looks up, thinking. “Interesting, quite interesting.” She looks at Renel again, and yells, “Well, I’m not letting you go until your scoundrel of a brother shows up and kisses my feet, then sucks my toes. He owes me an apology.”
Renel frowns. “I can’t exactly ask him to come here while hanging here.”
She looks up as if considering his question. “Indeed, indeed. I think I should let one of you fall.”
“I can’t call my brother if I’m dead either,” Renel says.
I still think he sounds too calm, and I don’t know if he’s confident that he’ll find a way out of this or if he’s just pretending.
“Very true.” The queen furrows her eyebrows. “Very true. But I can still leave you hanging because it’s fun.” Her laughter is maniac and now I’m considering swinging, getting to the rock wall, climbing up, then punching her face.
I move my legs to swing, but then I feel the rope above me loosening. My stomach feels empty while I fall, horrifying fear taking over me. I reach out to the stone, but can’t reach it.
Then I stop—and realize I was just dropped a couple of feet. My scream feels ridiculous now that I know I wasn’t about to die.
“Na-ah,” The queen says. “Make one move, and my guards will cut your ropes. For now, they can loosen them.”
No swinging then. I hate this. I hate Renel. I hate this queen.
