Page 128 of The Fox Heir

“Then why haven’t you killed him first?” I turn to her, wide-eyed with disbelief. “Why sacrifice your own people when you have the power to kill him with a glance?”

The Dead Queen stills. “For one, without him, this castle would crumble around our ears. It’s his magic that keeps it standing.”

“There must be another way.”

“There isn’t.” She turns to look at me. “Moribund has lived on this land longer than memory itself. We are not worthy of banishing him from it.” She straightens her spine. It crackles like stones underfoot. “And besides that, we do not kill the fae. We live in harmony with them.”

“Harmony?!” I blanch, astounded. I point out toward the blood-soaked, moonlit battle below. “You call that ‘harmony’?”

The Dead Queen’s voice is sharp. “Don’t pretend to understand Annwyn’s ways simply because you’ve lived here for a season.”

I glower at her. “So, you’ll keep feeding him innocent women? After all they’ve done to fight for Gwyllion? You’d still sacrifice them to that monster?”

“That monster is a fae.” The Dead Queen’s voice echoes off the stone and rafters around us. “They may be curious creatures, even cruel, but they are not, in fact, monsters. They do not understand righteousness. They know only how to satiate their own cravings.”

“Forgive me if I don’t see much of a difference.”

“That’s because you are a Fox,” she says coolly. “Your ancestors ruled for hundreds of years believing they were better than everyone and everything else.”

My mouth snaps shut.

The Dead Queen looks back toward the battlefield, where very few Fox Soldiers remain. Moribund’s illusions make quick work of them, then pop out of thin air, as if evaporating. Eventually, only one Moribund remains. He scans the blood-soaked battlefield, then looks up toward the moth tower.

I stiffen.

As if he sees me, he grins, his tiny teeth glowing in the moonlight. He pulls something out of his loincloth and runs it beneath his nose slowly. I know in my gut that it’s my hair, even though he’s too far away for me to see it. Dread pools low in my stomach.

Then, in a blink, the final Moribund is gone.

“I daresay he’s satiated for a little while, at least,” Nalina says.

I’m not so sure.

Down below, the last of Gwyllion’s fighters walk among the carnage, checking to ensure each Fox Soldier is dead. I wouldn’t bother. Moribund doesn’t seem the type to be sloppy about murder. Someone begins collecting swords and armor. No doubt they’ll be reused in the borderlands. A haunting laugh escapes my chest.

Imagine that, Fox copper claimed to benefit the Dead Queen and Annwyn. My ancestors must be turning in their graves.

A thought ripples through my mind, too timid to creep out from the shadows. Too afraid to hope it’s true … We won.

Gwyllion suffered terrible loss, but the castle survives to stand another day. The people of Annwyn are safe. For now.

My smile fades as I remember my father. I lean forward, half out the window as I scan the moonlit field below. I don’t have to look too far.

In the distance, on the crest of that damnable hill, an orb of light hovers. My father remains perched upon his white horse. His copper banner waves in the breeze. There are only a handful of King’s Guards at his side, those he kept back from the fight for his own protection.

“That coward,” I growl.

“And what did you expect?” Nalina asks. “He’s a Fox. He would rather run than fight like a Wolf.” Her voice is edged with steel.

I whirl on her. “Why didn’t Moribund kill him?”

“Because your father isn’t a threat to Gwyllion while he’s out there on his stallion.” Nalina’s voice is laced with contempt. “The deal was to protect the castle. The Fox King isn’t attacking.”

“He’s waiting.” The Dead Queen’s voice is cold.

“For me,” I say. I know it in my bones.

Beneath her veil, the Dead Queen nods.