Heart pounding, she swallowed hard. “You’re lying. You don’t have any of my friends.”
“Notyourfriends,” he said with a smile, shifting his gaze to the High King at her side. “I mean his. I have your precious commander and that cloaked female with her stupid bird. Surrender now, or they die.”
42
Mariel
Mariel sagged into the Air Court’s throne, feeling the hum of its power pulse beneath her. She sighed and closed her eyes, and memories of the past flipped through her mind like haunted paintings. But even as the throne beat its steady rhythm, it rippled with anger.
She did not hold its power in her hands. If she stayed much longer, it would tear her limb from limb.
“Just a few more minutes,” she whispered. She’d raised the flags, and she’d send the scouts to break the news to the enemy army. The city had surrendered to Thane. It was only a matter of time before he strode into the Great Hall and liberated her head from her body.
Mavis had no idea. She’d fled her quarters before he returned. He would fight her on this. Even though he’d been against her plots and her schemes, the last thing he wanted was for her to end up dead. He’d likely sacrifice himself trying to save her, and she wanted—no,needed—him to survive. None of this had been his fault. She could not let him die for her crimes.
In the end, Mavis had been right. She should have stayed The Bloody Dagger. She’d done far more good for the city when she’d skulked through the streets, felling foes who passed as friends. She could have continued that way for decades. Centuries, even, as long as the Witchlight Woods continued to provide her with the nourishment of magic.
In the end, she’d let her quest for power corrupt her. She’d become the very thing she’d fought so hard against.
The throne shuddered beneath her. It was losing its patience.
The Great Hall doors swung wide, and Thane Selkirk strode inside, his golden armor gleaming in the sunlight that poured in through the windows. Mariel stiffened. Even though she’d braced herself for this moment, her heart still tripped with dread.
She didn’t want to die.
Confusion rippled across his face when he spotted her on the throne. “Wait. Mariel? Why are you here? Where’s Aengus?”
He glanced around as if he expected the Grand Alderman to pop out of the shadows at any moment.
Sighing, she stood, dragging herself away from the throne. “Aengus went south. He wanted to join the Wood Court’s army.”
Thane’s golden brows slammed down. He strode forward, and a hundred sea and ice fae warriors spilled into the hall behind him. She swallowed hard. If she’d had any hope of making it out of here alive, that was gone. There were far too many for her to fight alone.
“But then…who has been leading your fight here? Why…” Clarity rippled in his eyes. “You? But I don’t understand. You helped us before. You helped Reyna.”
Mariel gave him a sad smile. “I helped you once because I thought you would be a better High King than your father. I never thought you’d flee from duty or hide inside an enemy court. My name is Mariel Dalais. I’ve been leading this fight. I wanted to reclaim this castle and this city as mine.”
Confusion stormed across Thane’s face before it hardened into stone. “Dalais.”
She nodded, bracing herself. “That’s right. I’m the true heir to the throne.”
With a low growl, he lifted his sword and strode toward her. “That’s where you’re wrong, Mariel Dalais. I’m the High King of this court, and you have committed treason.”
She fell to her knees before him as he rushed across the floor. This was it. The end of it all. Only seconds sat between her and death. She cast one last glance behind her at the throne, the one that should be hers, and she waited for the sting of steel against her neck.
43
Reyna
“Reyna,” Lorcan hissed. “Can you do it?”
She wet her lips and considered their position. The wood king was all the way across the hall. There were dozens of guards between her and them. That wouldn’t matter if the Ruin turned its sights on him, but if it wanted to battle with her instead, they’d only be even more trapped than they already were.
“Not yet.”
Molt’s eyes narrowed into thin slits. “Can you dowhat? What are you whispering about?” An eerie laugh slipped from his parted lips. “Are you trying to scheme against me? Don’t bother. Neither one of you stands a chance. Not as long as I have Unseelie’s powers coursing through my body, and you have nothing.”
But they didn’t have nothing. And the wood king didn’t seem to realize that.
