“We thank you for your hospitality, my lady of moon and starlight,” Mr. Thorn said.
Catherine’s stomach twisted in fear. Despite Mr. Thorn’s assurances, she couldn’t help but feel as if she didn’t belong here, and the Twilight Queen would see that and cast her out. What was most surprising was she didn’t want to leave. This place she thought had been only in her imagination came to life in vivid color. She wanted to explore every nook and cranny, to listen to the stories of these strange and varied folk in the way she would lay in the sun as the small folk told her stories of their homeland when she was a child.
“Raethorn, you’ve brought a guest this evening?” Her voice was sweet as honey, and Catherine felt encouraged to look up.
“I have. I hope she does please you,” Mr. Thorn said.
“You may have your amusements here in my court as you always do.” She waved them away as one would a fly buzzing around their head.
Catherine let go of the breath she’d been holding. Mr. Thorn got to his feet and extended his hand to Catherine.
“Lady Thornton?” he asked.
A space had been cleared around them. The musicians with their otherworldly instruments changed the song to a lively tune that her feet wanted to tap to despite herself. The crowd had stopped to watch them, and she had never felt more exposed in her entire life. Her chest tightened. She was never good in a group. A part of her wanted to run, and another part of her wanted to shed all her fear and give herself into the music, which even now wove its spell over her.
“Keep your eyes on me, forget the rest,” Mr. Thorn said as he stepped in her view.
She swallowed past the lump in her throat and nodded. She took a few faltering steps closer to him. She expected him to put his hand on her hip and for them to move in the organized pattern of a dance she’d seen at Mama’s parties when she’d been a girl. Instead, he threaded his hands with hers, and when their palms met, a jolt raced through her. Her eyes widened.
He smiled. “You will experience something few humans do. Enjoy it.”
They moved together, and her feet seemed to know the steps without any guidance. Mr. Thorn had described it as a sharing of magic, but it was so much more. Bodies moved around them, hands linked, voices raised, and when she moved with Mr. Thorn, it was impossible to feel where his body ended, and hers began. The energy which flowed through them felt as if the very earth moved, as if they were wind, water, or fire. His face filled her vision as the rest became a blur of color and light. Their beating hearts synced, and their limbs tied together. The heady mix of emotions she had felt before tripled and tripled again.
The magic grew within her, at first a seed buried in the earth, before bursting into a new sprout which grew and grew and exploded with flowers and vines and the perfume of its blossoms on the wind. She twirled, laughter spilling out of her. She was dizzy, drunk on magic, music, and the burgeoning feeling that she could hold back no longer. Mr. Thorn let go of her hand, and she kept on spinning even as the magic stopped abruptly, even as silence yawned around her. She could see it in her mind’s eye: the Great Tree with bright green leaves against a golden horizon, so large she would fall back to crane her neck and take it all in. She reached out to take hold of it, but as she did, she grasped onto nothing.
Catherine panted, reveling in the swirling sensation around her. The air was scented with a beautiful perfume. Catherine opened her eyes. The ground beneath her feet had bloomed with a blanket of clover, and overhead a canopy of vines was brimming with white, trumpet-shaped flowers.
Where had they all come from? Was it the magic? She looked to Mr. Thorn for confirmation, but he was standing back with the rest, eyes wide.
“How? It shouldn’t be possible,” he muttered as he shook his head.
“It has been centuries since the night trumpet has bloomed in my court. What is it you’ve brought to my court, Raethorn?” The Twilight Queen smiled, revealing pointed teeth.
The fae surrounded them, closing in on all sides, and the magic faded. The flowers withered on the vine. They hadn’t made them bloom. Catherine had.
12
Power bloomed around Ray. The taste of magic on his lips was like the sweetest nectar of midnight blooms and as heady as spring wine. The radiant warmth of the Great Tree enveloped him. He’d been there only once to make his vows to court and crown in his long gone-by youth. For a moment, he was transported back there—the kiss of a breeze on his trembling flesh, the scent of the everblooms, and the rush of pride in his chest as the Great Tree accepted his vows. Then as quick as the feeling came, it was snatched away like the door to the throne room slamming in his face on the day of his exile.
Ray gasped as he opened his eyes. Where his hand clutched Lady Thornton’s, it thrummed with the pulse of the forest, as if the Great Tree were burgeoning out of her. He’d sensed power in her on their first meeting. Humans and fae had intermingled for generations. Fae blood made them stronger; they sang a little sweeter, their paintings a little more real. But this? Oh, this he had never seen in a human before. Had he known, he would never have brought her here. No, he would have brought her directly before the council. Whoever she was, he could leverage this discovery to end his exile.
Lady Thornton’s eyes flew open wide, and she took in the blooming flowers overhead. She let go of him and took a step back. Her chest was heaving, and her pale cheeks flushed. The tight coil of her hair had come undone, and it fell around her shoulders in gentle waves. Faery had helped her bloom. Had they not come here, he might never have realized. She’d been wilting in the human realm, and it wasn’t until she was here that she could truly burst to life. This must be fate or the hand of the Great Tree itself, which brought them together.
The Twilight Queen clapped her hands together. Ray shook himself and scanned the crowd. They’d all turned toward her now, hunger in their gazes. Magic meant power in Faery. For generations, magic had been fading, births were becoming fewer, and in the small courts, there were rumors of fae born without any magic at all. Those who had little magic attached themselves to the powerful. But someone with raw magic and completely unaware of how to use it, they were prey before hungry wolves. The Twilight Queen licked her pink lips as she rose from her crystal throne. The starlight in her gossamer gown shifted and glittered in the moonlight. She allowed him into this court once a month, not out of the goodness of her heart but for his links to Thorn Court, the most powerful court in Western Faery. Before the king died, Ray had been head of his guard, privy to his most intimate secrets, and his father had been the King’s right hand, his chief advisor. Ray might be exiled, but he still had connections at court. Or at least that’s what he let her believe. Ray inserted himself between Lady Thornton and the Twilight Queen.
“What have you brought, Raethorn? I knew allowing you into my queendom would be in my favor, but I never expected this.” The Twilight Queen smiled wickedly, her greedy gaze fixed on Lady Thornton. He may as well not be there at all.
“There must be some mistake; she is just a human,” Ray said, playing coy. He wouldn’t let the queen have her.
She threw her head back and laughed, and her subjects joined her. Then she held up her hand,, and all fell silent.
“Old blood. Rare, high fae blood. Perhaps royal?” she said in a sing-song voice as she paced around them.
Ray shifted in place, arms outstretched to keep himself in front of Lady Thornton.
“The royal line died with the high king, over a century ago; everyone knows that.” Unless... but that was impossible. Any child of Bella’s would have been nearly a hundred. It was too insane to even consider...
“Did it? My mistake.” She smirked. “Then, there’s no reason for you not to give her to me, in return for my for my generosity all these long years.” Her pupils had gone very large, almost entirely black and consuming the whites of her eyes.
