“They’ve both poisoned it,” Devil murmured. “Together.”
I let out a long breath. “I thought their bitterness and disdain for each other was being made worsebythe Rot, that it was a symptom, but it is the opposite. Oberon and Titania’s feudisthe infection, seeping into the Arden’s magyk through their connection. That is why the infected flowers can create hatred where it would not normally exist. I have to go see them.” I looked around for my cloak and Devil stood up immediately, but I put a hand on his chest. “Alone.”
“No.” He vehemently shook his head. “I won’t let you do this alone, May. Please…”
“There is nothing you can do about this, and I need you to work on saving Will and Tuck.” I tried to smile, but it felt unnatural and forced. “That’s your specialty, isn’t it, my demon? Dramatic rescues?”
Devil ran his fingers tenderly over my cheek, continuing to frown. I could see how badly he wanted to argue, how badly he wanted to stay with me, but finally, he sighed and pushed his hair back. “I am at your command, as always, Mayhem. And I knew you would be the one to save the Arden, but…I want to be with you…”
“You will be,” I whispered, holding my hand up and conjuring two golden Huntress moths from his magyk—the light we now shared. I sent them fluttering out of the oak tree, each bearing a message, an order for the faerie king and queen to meet me at the heart of the forest.
Chapter forty-nine
Quarrels & Burdens
After leaving Devil underLarch’s supervision so he wouldn’t try to follow me, I arrived outside the Bower’s grand ballroom and took a moment to clear my head before entering. Only half an hour after I’d sent off my messages to Oberon and Titania, Prim had appeared in the oak tree to inform me that the meeting would take place immediately, but I still felt as though I might be trapped in some sort of bizarre nightmare. A raw, painful ache opened up in my chest as I walked through the unguarded archway, and my nerves were stretched taut, as if the Unseelie monster with Will’s voice might be waiting to greet me, instead of my own grandparents.
The tree-domed ballroom was empty and nearly silent, save for quiet voices coming from behind the standing stones on the other side. I had never felt more vulnerable than I did walking across the enormous space, passing through a pool of sunlight from the oculus and desperately wishing Devil were behind me. Oberon and Titania stood on opposite sides of the dais, each engaged in conversation with their own advisor. Hippolyta’s face filled with pity when she saw me standing there, alone, and Simeon looked deeply perturbed, but neither spoke. Oberon sank onto his throne with a long sigh as I entered the circle, but Titania merely paced, her yellow and black butterfly wings twitching anxiously.
“Simeon brought me news of the attack on your Abbey,” said Oberon quietly, “and I am so, very sorry, Marina.”
My answer was frayed with emotion. “I did not call you here to give me half-hearted condolences.” When I put my hands behind my back to try and contain the tangle of thorny shadows threatening to pour out, they touched something soft tucked into my belt. A feather—one of Devil’s,presumably, but I could not look at it. Instead, I pressed the point of the shaft into my thumb, relieving some of the angry pressure gathering at my fingertips, which desperately wanted to manifest itself in the form of my new dark flames.
“Did you call us here to confess that you have, once again, seen fit to bring humans into the Arden?” Titania asked, folding her arms.
“Those girls needed my protection! Did Simeon tell you exactly what happened to Locksley?” I glared at the owl-man, who hung his head, looking cowed. “They slaughteredeveryone! Every single woman who raised me isdead. Women who dedicated their lives to helping others, who healed and taught and served. Women who took me in and loved me whenyouwould not!”
I looked directly at Titania as I said it, hoping for a reaction, but there was none. I could not read her, could not tell what she was thinking. Centuries of practice had given her a stoic bearing better than any actor or politician. But I needed her to give mesomething. The tiniest hint that she cared, or regretted, or felt anything other than bitterness and hatred and fear.
When no one else spoke, I continued my tirade, directing it at Oberon now. “Doyoueven know or care that Devil nearly died trying to protect Locksley for me? Do you have any regard for the things you create, or do you simply throw us around like dice, watching us crash into one another, waiting to see if we land the way you want? When was the last time you spared a thought for Jon Lytle and the curse he should have long since earned his way out of?” I turned back to Titania now. “Or Celia, and Larch, and their little children? She could not watch them grow up because you banished her from the Arden. And what of your precious songbird, Aliena? Can you even begin to guess at the depth of her devotion and misery? How desperately she misses playing for you?” Another painful silence stretched across the stone circle, but I refused to be the one to break it this time, and instead dropped my eyes to the ground.
“Youhave put the Arden in grave danger,” Titania finally said. “Again.”
“Gods above, the Arden was already in danger!” I shouted. “Johar isn’t doing this because of me! He’s doing it because he hates the Fair Folk, and so I am done hiding. War is coming to the Arden whether you would have it or not. If you want to defend yourselves, I suggest you start by destroying the Rot-infested Archer’s Cup.”
“What?” Simeon lifted his head, looking horrified, and I offered the briefest explanation I could about the soldiers Jon and I had found at the Abbey.
“That is not possible,” said Hippolyta, gripping the back of Titania’s throne until her knuckles went white. “My guards have been posted there since it was discovered, and I trust every one of them with my life.”
“Then you are a fool,” Oberon said to her, “and you will interrogate those guards until you find the traitor. Titania, you must—”
“Do not speak to me of what I must do!” the queen snarled. “Especially not with the same breath you use to insult my commander.Youare the one who has brought these dangers down upon the Arden, and yet you blame her for—”
Oberon stood, and his shadows darkened the stone circle, crawling up the ancient weeping willow behind the dais. Water droplets shook from its rattled branches, raining to the ground as he rumbled, “I will not hear this from you again!”
Ribbons of light poured from Titania’s hands, causing the entire Bower to tremble. Tree limbs creaked and snapped above our heads and one of the great standing stones shifted in the earth behind me. Hippolyta put a hand on her arm, but withdrew it quickly, grimacing as if she’d been burned.
The faerie queen’s voice deepened, echoing as she cried, “You will hear it from me until the end of time, and that is the least you deserve!”
I could not stand it any longer. Black flames exploded from my hands, flying out to form a barrier that blocked their view of one another and pulled their attention onto me.
“Stop!” I cried, ignoring the shock on their faces. “Thisis why I called you here! This! The Rot has nothing to do with Lyric, or her death, or even your pain. It isyou—all your hate and bitterness and anger for one another. The Rot is not the thing tearing the two of you apart! Youarethe Rot. How can you not see it?” Oberon’s shadows dissolved, but Titania’s light-ribbons only flickered. The fury remained etched on her face, and I felt it seeping into me too.
“I see your pain,” I continued, unwilling to let either of them speak, even though my own voice wavered. “I see it, and I feel it too. Just hours ago, the only mother I’ve ever known died in my arms, and I could do nothing to save her! I saw the bodies of my Sisters desecrated in the name of their own faith! You are not the only ones who carry this intolerable strain of grief, but yours has blinded you. If you do not learn to set it aside, to share it, rather than hoarding it away, then it will destroy everything—your home, your people, your family. Would their deaths be worth it? Can you look at the ones you still love and tell them your pain is more important than their lives?” I waved my hand at Hippolyta, and Titania’s light flickered again when the commander’s hand brushed along her arm. Oberon’s eyes fixed on me, his face twisted with sadness, then they shifted to Titania. I allowed my wall of flames to shrink so they might see each other, but the faerie queen turned away, allowing Hippolyta to hold her and kiss her forehead.
“Marina…” said Oberon, moving toward the edge of the dais and putting his hand out. “This new power…this fire…”
My reply was faltering, unsure of how much truth I should divulge. “I thought…if I had more magyk,strongermagyk, that I could banish the Rot alone.”
