“When Ustrin’s guards took off from the cave, I knew their master must have been defeated. I came to find you straight away. When I saw you here like this, I figured I’d give you some time.”
His words make sense. Now that I think about it, I remember a stag coming to this stream half a dozen times before now. A raven visited a time or two as well. I return my gaze to the flowing waters.
He continues. “That’s when I sought out the refugees. They weren’t far from here. The guards had fled the site there as well. Nyxia joined me after the threat to Selene Palace was extinguished. She brought my people back with her.”
“The guards fled? And the flame too? No one put up a fight?”
“The guards likely felt the dissolution of their vows to their king, and the flame he ordered to the palace no longer needed to obey orders either. There was no reason to fight us.”
With a single nod, I say, “No reason because Ustrin is dead.”
“Yes.”
“Because I killed him.”
“Yes.”
My muzzle twitches, and it reminds me of a human lower lip quivering. “Will he heal from his wounds?”
Aspen hesitates before answering, but I already know what he’s going to say. I remember what Gildmar had told me when we treated our patients after the explosion at Bircharbor. If a fae loses too much blood, their bodies can’t keep up with the healing. And I left him with more than an open throat. I buried him in my fire.
“He’s gone, Evie.”
A tremble goes through me. It had been so easy to snap my teeth over Ustrin’s throat. My human training told me where to bite. My fox instincts knew exactly how to angle my mouth, how to sink my canines beneath the shingle of scales where I could puncture his flesh. After the deed was done, all I could do was stare. When I could look no longer, I retched, then took off for the nearest source of water.
My stomach turns at the thought, and I try to retrain my focus on my reflection. But now all I can see is the blood still matted in my fur.
From the corner of my eye, I see Aspen shudder, then two legs replace his four. My reflection becomes distorted as feet splash through the stream. When the water returns to its calm flow, I see Aspen at my side in his seelie form. He’s gazing at me. Me, the firefox. Me, the killer.
I can’t bear to look at him, so I stare at the earth beneath my paws.
A warm, gentle hand falls on my back. I want to pull away from the touch, but I can’t find it in me to move.
Aspen brushes his hand along my fur, safe from my flames now that they’ve diminished to a harmless glow. “I’ve felt exactly how you feel now,” he says, voice thick with emotion. He sounds so different from his stag’s voice. I try to remember what my seelie voice sounds like, but I can’t. He continues. “This is how I felt after I killed the Holstrom girls. Then again after I slaughtered their animals. It isn’t an easy feeling.”
“But the act of killing...that part wastooeasy.”
“Yes.”
I swallow hard, the lump in my throat feeling out of place in my fox’s body. “I’ve killed two people. Torn open two throats without a second thought.”
His hand stills, then returns to stroking my fur. “It won’t get any easier. But what you did was necessary. Unlike me, you didn’t fall victim to your rage. You protected yourself. Stood up for what needed to be done.”
“How do you know? You weren’t there when I left Mr. Meeks to burn alive. You weren’t there when I sank my teeth into King Ustrin’s neck.”
He angles himself closer to me, but I still won’t meet his gaze. “I know because I know you. I know how calculated you are. How calm under pressure. How precious you consider life.”
“You are one of us.” A new voice fills the air, one I only half-noticed in my distracted emotional state. It’s the crustacean from the cave, and he’s scuttling toward me from between the trees.
In fact, several dozens of figures stream from the shadows, lighting the night with their balls of flame, their bright bodies, their glowing eyes and fiery wings. “You’re one of us,” the fire fae echo.
A white kitsune steps forward and lowers down on its front paws, eyes closed. “Unseelie Queen of Fire.”
A blue wisp bobs at the kitsune’s side. “No. Ustrin is defeated. There is but one ruler of Fire now.” She flourishes a glowing, blue hand and bends into her version of a bow. “Queen of Fire.”
The rest of the fire fae perform their own bows, echoing the wisp. “Queen of Fire.”
I stare wide-eyed at the fae surrounding me. My fae. My people. The daunting task of ruling them falls heavy on my shoulders.
