They were fae once. Fae of the Above, like my mother, like Justus, like Sira herself.
But she turned them. Corrupted them as she corrupted the goblins and the harpies and all her other creations.
“You changed them,” I whisper, “with the rose you plucked from the Gardens of Ithilias.”
She smiles, satisfied. “I changed them with the rose I plucked from the Gardens of Ithilias.”
I flick my gaze to Faustrius. His jaw tightens, and his fingers flex. The mention of the rose… It unnerves him. Why?
The memory of my conversation with Papa weeks ago flicks back at me.With the rose, she could force her creations to obey her every whim.
Whoever has control over that rose has control over Sira’s creations, underfae included. Somehow, Faustrius knows we have it. That’s why he sent the assassin.
He wants it.
Before we can use it against him?
Or before Sira can?
Farron holds up a fist. “That’s how they’re so strong. They’re from the Above. Their blood is like pure magic!”
“Oh, aren’t you so sweet?” Aquila purrs, patting the net coiled around her arm. “Not everyone found us beautiful. Not the first High Prince of Winter. We tried to make friends. Tried to be part of your world. Instead, the bastard froze us for years and years and years. But thanks to the bigka-bang!twenty-six years ago, we are free! And now it’s time for ourka-bang, isn’t it, Faustrius?”
“What are you planning?” Kel roars.
Faustrius reaches into the folds of his cloak and pulls out a vial. I shield my eyes, grimacing against the light emitting from it. It’s like someone bottled the sun.
“You surface-born will never understand,” Faustrius says, staring into the vial, unblinking. “Everything in the Above was forged from the light of the cosmos. Down here, in your Vale, it’s diluted, only whispers of what it once was. But before we made our final descent, I captured essences of the Above, such as this. Pure liquid flame from the Forge of Onaulion.”
“Are you mad? The Vale isn’t used to magic that potent! You don’t know what that will do!” Farron yells.
Faustrius doesn’t tear his eyes from the vial. “Oh, I know exactly what it’s going to do. Look how even in its presence, the volcano awakens! The world longs for power. Not just people but rock, root, dirt.” Finally, he flicks his gaze up to Keldarion and says through gritted teeth, “Once I feed your volcano this essence, Winter’s doom will be set. By sunset, the volcano will erupt, taking your entire realm with it. This volcano will belch with heaven’s fire! Only a whisper of the void’s frost could still its might—an echo beyond your grasp.”
I stagger backward. “No, you can’t do this. There are thousands of people in Winter! Innocent lives!”
“What of the innocents his ancestor froze?” Faustrius points a condemning finger at Kel. “Not all my children survived the long cold.”
I try to catch my breath, but the air is too thick, and my head is spinning with emotions. My own and my mates’. Fear and rage and grief swell inside me.
One calm presence steps forward. Dayton’s voice echoes with the command of a leader. “Listen to me, Faustrius. I know you’re angry. I know your people have been mistreated. And I know you didn’t understand what you signed up for when Sira…did whatever she did to you. But revenge will only hurt all the people of the Vale, yours included. And your peopleareof the Vale now. We can come together to heal the past.” He looks to me. “I’ve seen it happen before.”
I force myself to stand straight. All these feelings are rioting through me. Somewhere in there, my own emotions swirl, and they’re as pained and angry as Kel, Farron, Ez, and Cas, wherever he is. But Dayton’s pushed through, and I have to follow his lead.
I need to act like the queen my mother wanted to be.
“Please, listen to us, Faustrius,” I say. “Your people have persevered after a great evil was done to you. And now our people have been hurt too. How much longer should we go on killing each other? I’ve heard the legends. The Vale was built with the bloody rain of the Above. I don’t know what Sira promised you to make you follow her down, to let her change you, but she wants to keep building the Vale with blood. Side with us, and we can create a new future. One where everyone is safe.”
“Act, Faustrius,” Sira growls. “Don’t waste another moment on these sniveling rats. Use the vial!”
He squeezes his fist around the glowing glass and closes his eyes. “I’m sorry, little rose. There is no safety for the fallen.” He flicks his gaze to Sira and then slowly casts it over Kairyn. “You will honor the deal? I will have my son?”
“Son?” Ezryn’s voice is hoarse. “What are you talking about?”
Sira reaches into her bodice and pulls out a single, glassy rose petal. It has that same strange, luminescent shine as the rose Papa’s working on.
“My very last rose petal. My very last chance at creation.” Sira holds the petal up, letting the flickering light of the volcano shine through it. “This will be my show of loyalty to you, dear Faustrius. I shall create for you a new Elderblood, and you shall show your loyalty to me by poisoning the volcano and destroying Rosalina and her pack of simpering dogs!”
“As agreed,” Faustrius says, clutching the glowing vial in his palm. “Once I have my son, this is yours to do with as you wish.”
