Relief flooded me, followed by a nervous clamour. Even after everything Daigh had done, Maeve didn’t want to kill him. She’d chosen the path of righteousness, as Matthew Crawford might’ve said. But it was not the easy path. We still had to deal with Daigh.
What good will come of talking to Daigh? Everything he says is a lie.
Maeve flicked her gaze to me for a moment, and the flicker of a voice echoed in my head. A voice that wasn’t my own.
Corbin, get the crown.
I gaped at her. How had she sent her voice into my head? She shouldn’t be able to do that with a non-spirit witch. That was interesting. Were her powers somehow growing?—
The crown. It’s what he meant when he said there’s no king to kill. That demon wasn’t the king, it was a guard or something. The crown is the source of all their power. I’ll distract him, and you’ve got to get it off him.
My eyes locked on Daigh’s crown, and I immediately grasped Maeve’s thinking. The bone crown on Daigh’s head glowed with a similar blue light to the one that surrounded Maeve. Some of her power had been drawn into it, like a corruption of Flynn’s witch statue collecting the magic of belief.
In this world of darkness, the blue aura was a way for the demons to discern the shades of witches. It would also help them to keep any visiting fae in check. The demon blood on my face was making me see it as a demon would. But the thing Maeve had to have noticed was that only the crown glowed – no other part of Daigh’s body shared the aura.
Daigh still had no power of his own. He was streaming it from the crown. If we could get that crown off his head, then he’d be powerless.
“I want to talk about you and me,” Maeve started, folding her arms. “I got the DNA test results back, and you were right – I am your daughter. It’s all very strange, because the binding has made my DNA completely different from any other human.”
I crept across the bridge to where Maeve stood, moving slowly and smoothly as if my whole purpose was to standnear Maeve. Our fingers touched, and Maeve’s magic sparked a memory in my mind.
It was of me and Maeve and Rowan in the seedy hotel room in London, our bodies wrapped together in the heat of our love.
Daigh’s eyes glittered at Maeve. “There you are, you see? Your earth science has proven what I already knew – you are mine, daughter, and you are special. The fae have been wrong to forbid bindings. You are the strongest witch of your age. What you did to me just now would have killed a mortal. Fortunately, I’m no longer a mortal.”
“Indeed,” Maeve tapped her chin. “It seems I’ve been completely wrong about magic. It’s written into our DNA. It’s scientifically observable and?—”
I slid off to the side and crept around the dias. Daigh’s eyes didn’t leave Maeve’s face as she waxed on about the awesome power of DNA. It was quite a speech, delivered in her best “schoolteacher” voice, the one that Flynn thought was the sexiest sound alive.
At the back of the throne, the steps were so narrow there was only enough room from the toes of my boots. I stepped up onto the stairs and peered around the side. Daigh didn’t seem to have noticed me, but he’d moved back up to settle on top of the throne. That meant I’d have to climb all the way to the top.
I swung my leg up and balanced precariously on the next shelf. If I’d been a human, my muscles would’ve been screaming. But being a shade – or whatever I was – meant I didn’t feel physical pain in the same way. I could feel the heat rising from the fire, burning a good twenty feet beneath me. I stretched with my hand and gripped the edge of the next step.
Almost there. Just keep him distracted a moment longer, Maeve. I’ve almost got him!
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
THIRTY-SIX: BLAKE
Ilanded hard on my side, but the pain that shot through me was oddly dulled, like I’d hit my toe instead of fallen into the underworld. I rubbed my eyes, trying to adjust to the dim light of the hallway. The palms of my hands were covered with fine dust.
A lump groaned beside me.Isadora.I reached out and touched her arm. She shrunk away from me like I was made of fire.
After a few moments, my eyes adjusted and I dragged myself to my knees. I was sitting in the middle of a wide hall made of black veined stone, lined with wooden doors on either side of us. Every surface was covered with a thick layer of dust.
It looks exactly like Maeve’s dream.
I pulled myself to my feet and went to find the others. Aline leaned against the wall, cradling Robert in her lap. I held out a hand and helped them both up, then turned to Isadora. She waved me off as she staggered to her feet and smoothed the wrinkles out of her dress.
“I never thought I’d see this dump again,” she muttered. She bent down and slipped off one of her stilettos, eyeing the broken heel with disgust. “What a waste of a new pair of Louboutins.” She tossed the shoes away.
“What are you doing here?” I demanded.
“I’m here because you can’t count,” Isadora huffed. “For each soul that leaves the underworld, one must remain. And since you jumped in like a bloody fool, I had to go in after you to even up the numbers.”
“No, you can’t count. I was following Liah.” I cast my eyes around in search of her, but I couldn’t see her anywhere. My stomach churned.Did I imagine her?“She broke through the circle and?—”
“If she is even here, she is fae. That sigil on her arm already carries the magic to pass between the worlds.” Isadora yanked her skirt up and showed me a cross of Saint Lazarus carved into her thigh. Arthur had said the tattoo looked all diseased and bloody. But now it was dull and perfectly clean. “This was tattooed with demon, fae, and witch blood, the same as your fae friend’s arm. Only hers will work more than once.”
