“Yes, me,” she says, the grin on her face spreading. Suddenly, she hops on the stage with a surprising grace and speed. Ivan and Luca step in front of me, but I order them back with a wave of my hand.
She looks to Marik with a soft smile and says, “Hello,KingMarik. Congratulations on your newly appointed title as High King of the Woodland Kingdom.” He walks to her and stops when he’s beside her. He wraps an arm around her shoulders, never taking his eyes from her. He’s staring at her with utter adoration in his eyes.
“What’s going on here?” I look from him to her. “Marik?” I ask, my voice pleading, hoping he’s about to tell me this is just one big misunderstanding.
The old woman places an arm around Marik’s waist and says simply, “Marik and I are here to take the throne.”
My jaw drops, and now it’s my turn to laugh. Marik’s eyes furrow, his gaze shooting to me as soon as I do. Nowthisgaze is familiar to me. He’s looking at me the same way he looked at Asmo the other night like he wants to rip me limb from limb.
“You’re serious?” It’s the only thing I can think to say.
“Here’s what’s going to happen, Mae,” Marik says, his voice quiet, only for me and the elderly woman beside him to hear. “You’re going to denounce your right to the throne and transfer it to her. Or you’re going to die. And now that I’m the High King, the throne will be transferred to me anyway. You can leave the throne, dead or alive, but either way, you’re leaving it.”
My jaw drops again. “You’re serious,” I whisper. “You’re fucking crazy. How did I not see this? Who the fuckisshe?” I ask, fury lacing my voice as I look at the crone.
“You know who I am,” she says softly. Her voiceisfamiliar, but I can’t place it. “Come now, Mae. Don’t be stupid.”
I ignore her, instead focusing on their idiotic plan. “Your plan is to just take the throne or kill me and then take the throne?That’syour master plan?” I ask incredulously.
“Legally, if you die, the throne is mine to do what I want.” He glances down and straightens his tie, as if this conversation is boring him.
I want to look back to Ivan, Luca, Elle, anyone, to see if that’s true, but I don’t. I stay focused on who is in front of me. I’m not turning my back on either of them for a second.
“Was this your plan all along?” I sneer at him.
“The plan was to make you choose me, no matter how I had to do it.”
Beside him, the crone says, “You were foolish, Mae. Time to give it up.”
“And what are you going todowith the throne?” I shoot back.
“Restore the witches,” she says simply, as if she couldn’t believe I’d even ask that question.
“So, youarea witch,” I say. “You’re responsible for the cambion and the osseris attacks. I take it you’re responsible for the death of my father then, too.”
She nods once, a smile on her face, before she starts clapping. “Very good, Mae. Finally putting that brain of yours to use.”
“What about the story you told me in the greenhouse? Was it true?”
“Every bit of what I told you was true.”
I look to Marik. “What about you? Did you lie to me about how you felt?”
He shakes his head once. “I was very careful in what I said to you.”
I look from her to Marik, and some of the loose threads come together, brushing against each other, refusing to move. I look at Marik and say, “You’re the one who gave her access to the grounds. You both pretended like the cambion attacked you so I’d have to come rescue you. You knew I’d feel bad for you and spend extra time with you because you were attacked. You knew that it would bring us closer.”
He nods and shrugs. “It worked.”
“What about the attack at Willa’s? On Cally?”
“I don’t think you’re ready for that bit of truth yet,” Marik says, his tone serious.
“What does that even mean?” I ask, exasperated.
“Oh, let’s just put her out of her misery,” the crone says. Behind me, I can hear shifting, like people are getting ready to attack her at the implication of a potential threat. But she doesn’t attack.
Instead, she begins to transform in front of us. I’ve never seen anything like it, but then again, I’ve never seen a witch. The transformation begins, and the top of her gray hair turns black, straightening into glossy waves of raven hair, growing longer. Her skin transforms, no longer wrinkled and saggy. I know the face.
