All I know is the Seelie sigil on my shoulder throbs.
But she isn’t summoning me. And that is why I taste fear on my tongue. That is why my nerves hum incessantly with warning.
And the Crown.
It whispers of paths spiraling and merging and missing before converging.
“Kestra.” Ash stands so fast her chair scrapes. The color drains out of her cheeks in a single pulse. Her hair curls around herself like a blanket of protection. The green strands at her roots brightening to a sage before turning emerald. “What happened?”
The tavern grows silent. Every eye and every ear on Kestra.
She steps inside. The doorway swallows her. Kestra has never looked smaller. Her dark hair is pulled back, braided and ready for war. And the leathers she wears? Some spots are splashed with blood. Some of the leather is ripped and torn.
Which begs the question.Whatcreature can rip leather?
Her eyes dart to her brother, who takes one step toward her. His face goes dark. Not unusual. Then his jaw locks and his nostrils flare and he registers, in real time, that the blood on her leathers is hers.
I don’t have siblings. I can’t register what it’s like. But I’ve known Kieran for a long time. And though his sister isn’t someone he talks about often, it isn’t because he doesn’t love her.
It’s because he loves her that he remains quiet. He values and respects her more than anyone I’ve ever seen him regard.
And right now there is a stillness in him I have only seen twice before. Both times someone died for it.
“Amarantha knows about the Stone.” Kestra turns to Tiana.
Tiana stands tall to my left. Leaning against the sticky bar top, her elbows resting against the ledge. Her face is composed. Only her violet eyes move, tracking Kestra across the room.
“It was only a matter of time.” She sighs, pushing off the ledge. “How mad is she?”
“She razed the Dark Forest near the Seelie grounds.” Kestra finally steps fully into the tavern. Behind her, before the door shuts, Jadeve and the other exiles file in.
“Impossible.” Tiana steps forward.
“Possible I’m afraid.” Kestra walks in, her boots tapping on the hardwood. She grabs a beer off the counter, drinks half of it, and slumps in a chair.
Threads of possible futures sear through my synapses, they branch off Kestra’s words like cracks in ice. Most of them end in fire. A few end in something I can’t look at directly, somethingthe Crown shows me in flashes and then pulls away like even it doesn’t want me to see the whole picture.
And one. One thin thread barely visible. Three queens standing barefoot on broken stone.
I hold onto that one so hard my teeth ache.
“Unplanned—”
“Obviously.” Tiana snorts.
“She went to remove the Stone, to bring it to the Academy and summon Ash.” Kestra glances at Tiana before refocusing. “She was going to use a fake. But instead, she found a fake.”
“Damn good fake,” Tiana mumbles under her breath.
“She detonated. The antechamber shattered. And the Dark Forest burned to the ground within miles of the castle.”
“My forest?” Badb stands. Her face twitches and shudders as though it isn’t sure whether to stay here or there. “I didn’t feel it. Peculiar.”
“Because there was no time to feel anything.” Kestra looses a teary laugh. “It was fast, it was too fast. We were too close. And—” she closes her eyes, tears dripping from her long lashes. Her pain moves through the room.
“Razedis a poor word.” Badb opens her eyes. “Amarantha went nuclear. This is good.”
“Nothing about Amarantha going nuclear is good,” I interrupt. “Yes, she is volatile, but most of that? Was held in check. This was her breaking point and that changes the story.” I stare down Kestra. “What is she planning?”
