“You gave your life for mine.”
“I would have died anyway, minutes later maybe. But by passing everything I had to you... I made sure a Fae Queen would return when the time was right. I tucked you away, in a little cocoon of a spell, and when that spell broke, a trusted confidant received instructions to place you, my child, with a set of mortal parents. Your life, as you know it, began the day my spell lapsed.”
“The time for the Fae Queen to return is now.” I felt hollow and my voice sounded hoarse. “And it’s me.”
“Yes, Alessia. You were placed under the care of two unassuming humans to hide your true identity as you aged until the right moment. I’m sorry it worked out the way it did; I know how they treated you. But there really was no other way. It made you into the beautiful, compassionate, strong woman you are today—the kind of woman who will build the rise of the Fae Queens once more.”
The look in her eyes broke my heart. I could imagine, in the smallest way, how she might feel. I pictured Liza ending up with people like my parents—the small child I’d grown to care about so much being sent to live in a sterile room where her worth was determined by her obedience. I flinched.
“Your time has come now to flourish and take your throne. To find your true love. To rule over your court and bring back order to the magical world,” she said with confidence. “In order to do that, you will need to defeat the Darkest Lord. I cannot tell you exactly how—only that we will be with you as you find the path.”
“But if you can’t tell me how... Can you tell me how to reinstate the wards? I understand it’s something only I can do, but I’m struggling to figure out how to do it.”
“Wards are a peculiar thing. They’re based on who you are as an individual queen. All of the wards we’ve set”—she gestured around her to the stone statues standing guard—“have set unique wards that change based on the needs for our court at that time.”
I sighed. “So you can’t give me a formula for how to work the wards?”
“Setting your own wards is something that will come with time. You need to understand the current strengths of your court, the current threats. The magic you have available to you, the enemies you face.”
“Of course.”
“Wards are like art; no two artists will paint exactly the same picture, even if given the same instructions. I’m afraid that’s all I can tell you. It will come to you once you are comfortable wearing your crown and leading your court, and when it does, setting and maintaining the wards will be as natural to you as breathing.”
“I don’t have time to figure out my personal take on the wards,” I said listlessly. “I need wards that work now. And that’sifI can manage to make it safely home.”
“I can help with that,” my mother said. “I can return you to your body, but just this once. You shall not enter the underworld again. Promise me. If you do, I guarantee you will not make it out alive a second time.”
“I promise.”
Her voice was stern. She sounded almost like a mother giving a curfew to her teenage child, and the irony wasn’t lost on me. In fact, I’d prayed to hear something like this, words born from concern and care instead of frustration and anger. It was a giftthat I wouldn’t have been able to appreciate if not for the way my life had worked out.
“When you leave The Glade, you will return briefly to the underworld,” my mother said, “and then you will be returned to your body in the realm of the living. But before you leave the underworld, you need to do one thing for me.”
“Anything.”
“The man who visits you in your cell—you must send him through the portal I’ll hold open.”
“But won’t he join you here in The Glade?”
“Yes.”
I considered for a moment, noting the look of resolve in her eye. “I see,” I finally said quietly. “Are you sure?”
“I haven’t had many chances to protect my daughter,” my mother said softly. “I would like to take this opportunity to look out for my only child while I have the chance. My face will be the last thing he sees before he is banished for an eternity.”
“That’s not true, about the protection.” My voice was a mere thread. “You’ve protected me this whole time. Without you, all would have been lost. You’re the reason Fae still exist. You saved us all.”
She cocked her head to the side, acknowledging my point, but not outright agreeing. “Just remember, when the portal is opened, send the Harbinger through it.”
I studied the look in her eyes, memorizing it. It was one I’d never seen before. One from a mother that would do anything to protect her daughter. In that moment, my heart felt like a stone hand had clutched around it and squeezed.
I wanted to rush to her, to throw my arms around her, to tell her everything would be okay. That everything she’d done had been selfless. That her sacrifice would be worth it once order was returned to the magical world. But I couldn’t, because wewere nothing more than spirits. Wisps of smoke. The essence of ourselves.
I stepped toward my mother. She paused and glanced around, as if asking her sisters for permission. The magic in the air shifted like something big was about to happen. Water started flowing louder from the buckets in the goddesses’ hands. Wind whispered through crevices in the cave. Water churned and spiraled, charged with energy. Not an evil energy, but an anxious, anticipatory one.
“They’ve agreed,” she murmured, almost to herself. “They’ve agreed to let it happen.”
Before I could ask what they’d agreed to, I felt my body solidifying, and I felt hers following suit. We weren’t in our mortal bodies, but our spirit forms became tangible. As if Lily had thrown the potion she’d made on us and frozen us in place. Except instead of freezing, we were mobile.
