I know I should let them rest. I should let them sleep. They cannot keep up with a fox, and being this far from the faewall cannot offer them the ability to heal from blistered feet and torn heels. The two mothers need to nurse their babies and rest their weary arms from carrying their charges so long already.
But we must keep moving.
Shifting back into my fox form, I prod them onward.
* * *
Progress isslow as more than a full day of travel passes. In my fox form, I fight the urge to race on without my companions. Although my instincts tell me I’d reach my destination much faster on my own, a part of me remembers that this journey means nothing without those I lead.
By the time we make it past the faewall, the sun is lowering in the sky and creeping toward evening. Just as planned, I’ve brought us to the Lunar axis, where I know we’ll all be safe. The dusky light is a welcome respite from the glaring sun combined with the unforgiving late-October cold of the Eisleigh side of the wall.
I return to my human form, although my ribs protest at being back inside my corset. I should have had the foresight to keep the fae clothing I’d discarded when I borrowed this stupid dress. Although, when I first set out to do this, I didn’t exactly have a plan. Just a need. A need to run, to flee, to seek vengeance onsomethingbefore the empty void inside my heart swallowed me whole.
The four fae fall to their knees. Mikaela sobs into her hands while the male stares blankly ahead, shoulders slumped. The squirrel-like mother rocks her child with tears streaming over her round cheeks, and the other, a petite fae with gnarled brown skin, begins to wail a mournful song in a language I don’t understand.
I remember feeling this way when Lorelei and I made it past the wall after the incident at the laboratory. It was the most agonizing grief mixed with solace I’d ever felt. The main difference between myself and the fae before me is that none of them were forced to become murderers tonight.
That burden lies on my shoulders alone.
With a sigh, I sink into the grass, letting my satin skirt pool around me. What remains of my inner connection to my fox form slips away, leaving nothing but aching limbs and a pounding headache. I breathe the pain away, too tired to even summon my flames for relief. There’s nothing left to do but let the magic of Faerwyvae do its work.
“Do you have homes to return to?” My voice comes out small, revealing the truth behind my feigned confidence. The broken girl is showing beneath the mask of the unseelie queen, and I’ve exerted too much energy to keep her hidden a moment more.
Only the male nods, but his expression isn’t hopeful.
“You are all free to stay in Lunar,” I say. “Queen Nyxia will welcome you. And when I claim my palace in Fire, you will be welcome there as well.”
Mikaela’s gaze whips toward me. “Are you truly Queen of Fire?”
I nod.
“How is this possible?” the squirrel fae asks. “King Ustrin has ruled Fire as long as I’ve been alive.”
“And you—you can touch iron.” The male rubs his wrists, the red welts left by the cuffs only now beginning to fade.
I open my mouth, but again exhaustion drags me under. “It’s a long story, but King Ustrin is dead and I have taken his place.”
With that comes an image of orange scales covered in tricolor flame, of my teeth sinking into a scaly neck. Blood in my mouth. Smeared on my fur. I can almost taste it all over again, as well as the bile that rose in my throat afterward. My eyes unfocus as the moment I ended his life replays over and over in my mind.
I’m so lost in the memory that when I return my gaze to the fae, they’re gone. I barely recall them leaving, but now that I think about it, I remember each one offering at least a parting glance, if not a distinct farewell. Whether they continued on through Lunar or went to their home courts, I do not know. I can only hope they’re safe. And that the ghosts of what has been done to them will cease haunting them one day.
I wish the same for me.
As I rise to my feet, I expect to feel a surge of triumphant pride over doing exactly what I set out to do. I took down the Briar House and put an end to one of Henry Duveau’s disgusting operations. I set seven fae free and just as many human courtesans who were probably also kept there against their will.
I may not have claimed my vengeance against the councilman who killed my mother, but I did something. Something good.
Good?The word strikes a painful chord inside me.Is ending yet another lifegood?
My stomach lurches as Madame Rose’s face flashes through my mind. As much as her actions disgust me, the weight of what I’ve done to her hits me for the first time. Without the fire of rage burning away my fears and pain, I am defenseless against my own cruelty. My own violence.
Was it really me who set that fire, condemned a woman to die?
Or was it the fox inside me?
Is there even a difference?
Something builds in my throat, something enormous and painful. It’s a sob, and with it comes stinging tears and an agonizing guilt so vast, I think my vision will go black from it.
