39
Awarm light touches my face, and I turn away from it, burrowing my head into Aspen’s chest. I inhale his scent deeply, his rosemary and cinnamon helping to clear my mind. We must have slept by the stream last night after I sobbed for hours. I don’t remember falling asleep, but my body feels rested. Invigorated. A buzzing sound flutters by my ear along with an odd warmth.
I turn my head and open my eyes, expecting to find the light of dawn. Hazy morning sunlight has fallen over the woods, but that isn’t the light that first woke me. A fire sprite hovers over my face, head turning one way then another as she smiles.
My eyes widen, and she darts a few feet back. “Forgive me, Your Majesty,” she begs, her tiny voice quavering. “I came to thank you for your gracious gift last night. Then when I saw you, I couldn’t help but look upon my queen. You’re so...” she lets out a dreamy sigh, “pretty.”
Aspen stirs next to me, and he lifts himself onto his elbows, brow furrowed as he takes in our little interloper.
I pull myself to sitting, and the sprite dances in the air before me.
“I didn’t realize how pretty you were before,” she says. “Truly, I didn’t like you much at all, but then you were a firefox with those lovely flames, and then you defeated Ustrin. Then you let me burn him.” She lets out another sigh, this one contented. “I feel quite invigorated this morning. I’ve never burned a royal before.”
“He was delicious.” I whirl toward the voice, finding a kitsune sitting on the other side of the stream. He runs his tongue over the side of his muzzle as if savoring the memory.
My stomach churns, and I suppress a shudder. I’ve yet to utter a word and am still befuddled over what I could possibly say.
Before I can come up with a coherent reply, a firebird lands nearby. “His scales will keep my hatchlings warm. Thank you, Your Majesty.” She bows, and the other two fae follow suit.
I manage to find my voice. “You’re welcome.”
“Will you be taking us home?” the kitsune asks.
“Home?” I echo.
The sprite clasps her hands together, expression wistful. “To Fire. I haven’t been since I was a wee spriteling. Now that Ustrin is gone, you can have his palace!”
I’m overwhelmed by their forward nature, by thoughts of going to the Fire Court and claiming a palace. But these are my people. These strange, unsettling creatures that feed off carrion and harvest the dead are whom I now rule. They are whom I must care and advocate for. I plaster a forced smile over my lips. “Yes, we will return once I have settled the details of my travels.”
The sprite flutters closer, head tilted to the side. “Might I travel at your side? I can light your reading materials and I promise not to burn your gowns.”
“I’ll consider it,” I say.
“And may my tribe light your travels at night?” the kitsune asks. “Do not allow these duties to fall on the wisps. They will take us miles off course each night. They have no sense of direction, despite what they will tell you.”
“Another thing I’ll keep in mind.”
The firebird flaps her wings. “And will you—”
I hold up my hand to silence her. Squaring my shoulders, I adopt a regal bearing. “Let us discuss travel once I am prepared to hold a formal audience. You may petition me then.”
The three fae bow, uttering, “Most Esteemed Queen of Fire.”
When they make no move to leave, eyes still trained on me, I rise to my feet and extend a hand with a nod. “You may go.”
Once they’re out of sight, I hear Aspen snickering behind me. I round on him. “Stop that. I have no idea what I’m doing, and you know it.”
His lips pull into a smirk. “You’re doing fine.”
I try to match his grin, but my lips falter. All at once, the crushing sorrow I felt last night returns in a rush. My knees buckle beneath me, but I clench my fingers into fists to steady myself. Sorrow and rage go to war within, but I neither fight them nor encourage them to grow.
Aspen’s face softens as he offers me a hand. “It will get better.”
I’m tempted to follow my rage, to take it all to the Twelfth Court and shift back into my firefox form. I could run free, with only a fraction of the burden I feel now. Perhaps it would be easier to rule the unseelie in that form as well.
I shake the thought from my head, reminding myself I have more than the unseelie to fight for. There’s a war coming. Two, most likely. The seelie council will discover what I’ve done and they’ll come for me. They’ll come for all the rebels. We’ll be forced to fight, fae against fae. The humans will come next. Without a treaty, what’s to stop violence from breaking out? What’s to stop the humans from crossing the faewall with iron swords, guns, and grenades? What’s to stop the fae from crossing the wall to slaughter innocents in an attempt to reclaim their land?
Me. I’m the only one who can temper the destruction. I’m the only one who cares enough about both sides to fight this war without letting the Fair Isle fall into chaos.
