I turn, my mouth falling open in a gape.
A woman rides hard toward me on a big black steed. She wears shadowfae war gear of dark leather and blackened steel. On her breastplate is an insignia of someone of a high rank. The red plume on her helm is further proof of it.
Although my mother spoke to me of ranks and hierarchy within the shadowfae, I never really took much notice. Perhaps I should have. I know there are generals and rulers of the generals. She’s high up there, maybe at the highest rank.
Her dark hair streams behind her; it’s shorter than I remember. But I would know her face anywhere. In any crowd, in any court, in any lifetime.
It’s my mother.
“Noooo,” I breathe out in a soft whisper.
Because it can’t be. My mother died. She was dragged away by the villagers to be stoned.
I never saw her die. My father and I fled that very day. We assumed…we grieved… We never saw her again.
I force myself to focus…to think. I’m reeling.
I pull in a deep breath.
My mother is flanked by dozens of shadowfae guards, also on horseback, their shadows coiling around them in a protective veil.
I shake my head, still shocked, while the battle rages around me. I start to turn back towards Sebastian.
“Don’t do it!” she shouts, pulling hard on the reins. Her steed’s front legs lift off the ground before slamming back down into the mud. She is close enough now that I can see the command in her eyes. This is not the gentle mother who braided my hair and told me bedtime stories about shifterfae. This is a woman who leads armies.
“Come to me!” she shouts as she turns to the guards flanking her. “Do not harm her,” she orders, and the guards spread wider, adjusting their formation. Magic swirls around their hands, defensive wards going up around the group. My mother carries no magic of her own. She never did because she is of mixed fae blood. Pure hybrid fae never have magic. My blood is mixed with that of a human, and it makes me special. It’s made me powerful even though, in this moment, I feel as weak as a newborn.
“Isla!” she screams, kicking her horse forward once more.
A loud screech from above yanks me back. A dragon wheels overhead, fire dripping from its jaws as it banks away from an icefae assault. The sound is piercing, cutting through the fog in my head.
I need to save Sebastian before it’s too late. I whip around toward where I last saw him.
He’s on both knees now, his hands flat in the mud, his head hanging. The golden glow coming off him is brighter.
He is going to die right here in this mud, and I am just standing here doing nothing.
“Isla! No! You’ll die. Please.” My mother’s voice is closer. I look back and see her face twisted with terror. She kicks the steed harder, closing the gap between us at speed.
I turn, and I run.
Not toward my mother.
Toward him.
I hear her screaming my name behind me. The sound tears at something deep in my chest, but I don’t slow down. I can’t.
I dig deep, and I grab hold of my magic, and I let it loose on Snow. I just need to cause enough of a disruption that she lets him go. That’s all. It might be like a fly battering against a giant, but I have to try.
Fire erupts from my palms. Shadow twists between the flames, dark and hot and furious. I throw everything I have at Snow, expecting her to turn on me. Expecting to feel that terrible pull the way Sebastian described. To feel her hooks sink in and start to drain me dry as well.
The blast hits Snow square in the chest. She staggers back two steps; her gown billowing from the impact. For one glorious heartbeat, her hold on Sebastian wavers. The ribbons of shadow and gold streaming from his body flicker and thin.
But she doesn’t let go. She grits her teeth and holds on, one hand extended toward Sebastian even as she rights herself.
I push harder and throw more. Fire and shadow tangled together.
This time, Snow stumbles. The blast catches her in the shoulder and spins her halfway around. Her hand drops from Sebastian’s direction, and the flow of his life force sputters and stops.
