by Bec McMaster
I push to my feet, staring at the vortex of power that streams into the sky.
Amaya.
Amaya is all that matters.
I step between the Hallow stones, and power rips and tears at me. Ride it, the Mother said.
And so I do.
The instant I let the power flood through me, the world changes. It’s no longer a gushing current that strips the flesh from my bones. It’s a song of life, it’s the whisper of winds through the trees, the rumble of the earth, the sound of coursing water raging over jagged rocks. It is everything and nothing. It is life.
Arcaedia.
It feels like the time I bound myself to the land, and for a second I wonder if the fae queens realize that this binding is similar to what the Old Ones do with their Hallows.
Did we absorb their custom?
Or did we steal it?
For the first time in my life, I tune into the other side of my nature, and my blood allows me to go to her.
Amaya huddles on the floor, sobbing into her hands. Chains manacle her narrow wrists, but I set hands to them and I can see every single little molecule that comprises the iron. It burns a little—my fae blood is strong enough to flinch at the feel of it—but I simply break them apart in my hands.
“Amaya.”
She looks up, and the sight of her eyes is another stab through the heart.
I have this, I remind myself. I have this last little gift from him.
“Who are you?” she cries, trying to shield her face.
“I’m your mother.” The whisper is torn from my lips. Her hair’s so soft, and my eyes drink in every little aspect of that face. “I’m here to rescue you. We came for you because we love you.” There’s doubt in her eyes, and I drag her against me with with my uninsured arm, wrapping her in a hug that I need just as much as she does. “I love you. And I have finally found you. And I will never let you go. Never.”
My daughter.
My daughter.
And if I don’t dare look at that shadowy smear on the stone, then perhaps I can pretend my heart hasn’t broken in two.
He’s gone.
But I barely have time for tears.
Because we aren’t safe yet, and if there is one thing my husband would want— Would have wanted from me, it is for his daughter to be safe.
“My queen.” The words come from Finn. He squeezes my shoulder, and I gape at him as he holds out a hand, gesturing for me to step aside so he can carry Amaya. “What do we do?”
Every wall in the castle shakes. Lightning tears through the sky.
But it’s the sound of those words.
My queen.
Without their prince, they have nothing. And it hits me all over again. “Don’t call me that.”
I never want to hear that word again.
Baylor falls into place beside Finn, his expression grim. “We need to leave.”
He’s gone.
And even as that black hole stretches wide inside my soul, consuming me from within, I know I have to pull myself together.
Amaya. Escape. Home.
I have to try.
“Eris?” I call.
She stands on the edge of the Hallow, staring across the distance at Angharad.
“Eris.” I fill my voice with all the command I can muster, and her head snaps toward me. “Come.” I press a kiss to the top of Amaya’s head as I prepare to use the Hallow’s power to take us all to safety. “We have to leave.”
And when we are finally safe in Valerian, then and only then will I be able to let out the trapped scream that is lodged in my throat.
Epilogue
ANDRASTE
* * *
Some lies are never spoken. Some of them infuse every pore of your body. You become the lie. You wrap yourself so tightly in it that no one ever knows the truth of your heart.
“The spell backfired,” Mother says, letting the pendant spin on its chain. Light flashes through the ruby, casting red glints across her ruined face. This is the first morning she’s been able to venture from her apartments, and the damage the loss of her oak did to her is written over every inch of her skin. “I couldn’t understand why. How did they steal my crown when it is warded to my hand alone?”
Edain pauses where he’s pouring us both a goblet of wine.
But every inch of me is controlled as I reach for one of the strawberries on the platter between us. “I don’t know, Mother. Perhaps—"
“And then I thought… what if it recognized her blood somehow? After all, you’ve lifted it from my head at times. You’ve placed it back in its cabinet and locked it away for the night. It knows you. It knows I allow you to touch it. But your sister?” Her cold gaze sweeps to mine, and everything within me goes still. “I made certain Iskvien could never, ever take what was mine without consequences. I wove a curse around that crown that would blight your sister’s pretty face should she dare take it from its resting place. And yet, there was not a single blemish on her skin.”
“Perhaps she circumvented the curse.” I stare her in the eyes, trying to control my racing heart. “We don’t know the extent of Vi’s powers. What she did to you at the Queensmoot—”
“Ah, yes.” Mother captures the spinning ruby in her hand, her fingers closing around it like a cage. “The Queensmoot. Where you knelt before me and begged for their lives.”
“A decision I have since regretted.”
Mother turns to Edain. “Tell me, my love. Do you think my daughter stole my crown?”
There’s no hint of his usual cruel smile as he meets my eyes and offers me a goblet of bloodred wine. “Yes,” he says. “I know she stole it.”
But he doesn’t say which one.
This time, there’s no controlling myself. He kissed me, and nothing has been the same ever since. My fingers bump against his, and wine spills as I try to take the goblet from him.
“You never lie to me,” Mother croons, taking his hand and drawing it to her lips. “So many others do, you realize? But you always tell me the truth, Edain.”
And she suddenly laughs.
My gaze jerks to his.
“I always thought that blood was the only thing I could trust, but when you have a daughter who has betrayed everything you ever stood for, you learn to trust nobody.” Mother smiles at him. “And so I made it impossible for you to lie to me, didn’t I, my love? I bound you to me. I choked you with chains of spell work so thick that you can never speak an untruth. You are mine, heart and soul, Edain. And you must never lie to me.”
“I will never lie to you.” It’s as if the spell is broken, as if he can move again. He captures her hand and looks her boldly in the eye. “You are my queen. You are my everything.”
I can’t help thinking of the way he bandaged my wounds so gently. Of the way he kissed me. I want to gag.
What has he said to her?
What has he done?
“Do you love her?” Mother whispers, plunging the both of us into a tense wariness. “I see you looking at my sweet Andraste sometimes, when you think I am not aware. I see the way your eyes hunger for her. Do you love her, Edain? Do you love my daughter?”
There’s a long moment of silence, so long I almost think he’s not going to answer her.
“Yes,” he finally says.
Shock blooms through me. I can’t move. I barely dare look at him.
Would you still hate me if I loved you?
My heart lodges in my throat. And when he looks at me, I see the truth written there.
“You didn’t know.” She sounds pleased at my horror as she captures his face and digs her nails into his cheeks. “You didn’t know, because you despise him, don’t you? Kiss me,” she says. “Kiss me as if I am your everything.”
He leans down, his eyelids growing sleepy as she captures his face and kisses him.
And I can’t look at them anymore.
“You see,” Mother whispers, finally letting him go. “You’re the only one I can trust, becaus
e I made you that way. Now tell me the truth. Who stole my crown, Edain?”
“Your daughter.”
“Which daughter?”
I can’t breathe. He stands so still, a violent trembling breaking through his shoulders as if he’s trying to fight the hex she’s wrought around him.
“Which daughter?” Her voice becomes low and dangerous. “Do you think I will not break you? Do you think I will not make you crawl for me? Make you beg?” She pushes to her feet as he goes to one knee, clutching at his throat. “Do you dare love her more than you love me?”
Every inch of his face goes red.
“Stop it.” I can’t watch this. “He doesn’t love me. It’s always been a game to him. We’ve never—”
“He loves me,” she hisses. “He loves me more. And he will tell me the truth or I will rip it from his tongue.”
There’s a gagging lump in my throat. I’ve spent so many years hating him, so many years feeling numb to her cruelties, but there’s something about this moment that itches beneath my skin.
He knows the risks.
He knows she’ll kill him if necessary, but he’s holding his tongue for me.
Nobody has ever tried to protect me.
And then he breaks, a scream tearing from his throat, his fingers clenching into his palms—
“Stop it!” I rise, casting the goblet aside with a splash. “Stop it. He’s done nothing wrong.”
“He will tell me the truth,” Adaia says coldly, curling her fingers into claws. “I am his queen, and he will answer me or he will die.”
Edain hits the carpet, clutching at his throat and thrashing. His wild eyes find me, and there’s a look there that slays me to the core—
“I took it!” I yell. “I took your fucking crown!”
The words ring in the sudden silence.
But Edain rolls to his hands and knees, gasping for breath as if whatever held him immobile has now released.
I don’t regret a thing. I never did and I never will. And I can’t believe that I said the words, because she will kill me.
But maybe there is some sense of freedom. I don’t have to pretend anymore. I don’t have to lie. I don’t have to swallow my own poison.
I am free.
“Why?” she whispers, but there’s no shock in her voice. She knew.
And then she turns to me, and I know she’s not asking why I took the crown.
“I gave you everything,” she whispers, drawing herself up as I back away. “I nurtured you, raised you above your sister, let you at my breast like an asp….”
“You took her from me.” The truth spills from my lips in a whisper. “You poisoned us against each other. You tore us apart.”
“I gave you a choice. Only one of you could be my heir—”
“We were children! I loved my sister!”
“She was a lying, treacherous child who betrayed us all—"
“You forced her into the Prince of Evernight’s arms!” I yell. “And you cannot even see the role you played in all of this! Vi ran away because of you!” A helpless laugh breaks through me. “And she’s happy, Mother. She’s finally escaped your poison, and perhaps she is all the better for it.” I push closer. “You want to know why I took your crown? For love, Mother. Because no matter how hard you have tried, you have never quite been able to destroy that which beats in my heart. I love my sister. I would do anything for my sister. And I hope she is happy and free and that she will never see you again—”
The slap almost drives me off my feet. I stagger into the table and knock the entire platter of strawberries to the floor. The clang of it ringing on the marble tiles is enough to set my teeth on edge, but I force myself to straighten. Force myself to tilt my chin and stare her in the eye.
“Kill me and you lose your court,” I tell her. “They will see your lack of power as if it is a mortal weakness. You can’t even control your own family. Your daughters hate you.” The urge to laugh is almost destructive. “But the court loves me. I’ve spent years cultivating my alliances, as you taught me. The people cheer when I ride through the streets and curse you when you do. The only reason you have been able to hold on to your crown in the past ten years is because I have been there to sway their opinion. I have begged your people to listen to their queen, and I have counselled your lords to put away their steel when you strike at one of their own.” I step closer to her. “Without me, Mother, you are alone. And you are weak. And you are hated. So punish me as you like, but with Evernight at your throat and Stormlight snapping at your heels, you’re surrounded by enemies. Don’t make another one within your own court.”
“You little slut.”
I tense, prepared for the flaying lash of her magic—
But it never comes. Edain grabs my mother’s arm, holding her power back. Their eyes meet, and I can see the moment where she decides to turn all her fury and rage upon him. “You dare?”
“If you kill her, then you lose the north.”
It steals my mother’s breath.
And mine too.
What is he doing?
Why would he dare confront her in such a mood?
But he’s not the one she turns upon. She captures my face, the prick of her jeweled claws biting through my skin. “Don’t ever think you have outplayed me. Do you think I wouldn’t dare raise a hand against my precious child?” My mother straightens. “Guards!”
The doors bang open.
A half dozen of my mother’s guards enter, garbed in gold-plated armor.
“Are the horses ready?” she snaps at Korman, the lieutenant in charge.
He’s not my favorite. Indeed, as I search the faces of the guards, I realize none of them are ones I would trust. They’re all mercenary, all loyal to my mother and her coin.
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Horses?” I demand. “What horses?”
With a snap of her fingers, my mother locks invisible bands of force around me, clamping my arms to my body. She hauls me to my feet with a gesture, her face cruel and furious. “You’re right. If I kill you, then my country will tear itself apart. Besides, a dead daughter serves no purpose, and I have allies to please. And luckily, one of them needs a bride.”
“A bride?”
No!
Edain takes a step forward, but mother throws her arm toward him, and he goes to his knees, a shining golden rope clamping his arms to his ribs and another one gagging him.
“Do not dare,” she snarls at him.
His eyes promise murder, but my mother isn’t done yet.
“I will take your love and I will twist it into a thousand writhing snakes,” she hisses at him, golden light filling her eyes.
A curse. My eyes widen.
“You will never touch another fae for as long as you live,” she spits the curse, along with a mouthful of blood. “Your touch will burn, your soul will wither, and your flesh will beg for relief, but there shall be none to be found. Live a thousand years, Edain, and never know another’s touch again.”
The curse strikes its target.
Edain screams, his spine bowing as little golden thorns flare to life in his skin.
“Mother, stop!’ I yell.
“It’s too late, Andraste. You will never have him now. Your heart may yearn, but your flesh will never meet,” she croons. “Instead, you will serve another.”
I kick against her magic, but the golden ropes only squeeze me tighter. “No!”
“Send her to the goblin king with my regards,” my mother sneers. “Tell him he may do with her as he pleases, as long as he claims he married the bitch and fulfils his part of our bargain.”
The goblin clans are merciless. They haven’t had a king in years, though there is rumor that there is one born of an ancient lineage who could rule them, if he would dare try to unite them.
No, no, no, no, no! I kick and scream, but there’s no escaping her guards. Iron gauntlets sear my flesh as they grab me, and I know this was planned. A solid fist of
metal drives into my gut, the breath whooshing out of me. Another clips my cheek.
I’m on my knees, my hands wrenched behind me, there’s no escape but—
A hand fists in my hair, wrenching my face higher so my mother can look me in the eye one more time. “I will be sure to tell my lords that when you volunteered to save Asturia, I wept with grief at the thought that I would never see my beloved Andraste again. May, my darling, please come in.”
“What are you doing to Aunt Andi?” comes a tiny voice.
May.
The blood drains from my face as the little girl I exchanged for my niece hovers in the doorway, a stuffed bear hanging from her hand.
“Don’t do this! She’s innocent.”
“You were the one who told me she would be the perfect weapon to destroy her father.” Mother gestures May closer. “Do you like the castle, my darling? It’s much better than that drafty old keep at Clydain, isn’t it?”
She doesn’t know.
A relieved breath escapes me.
But then I still.
If she discovers May doesn’t share her blood, then she will kill her.
I did this.
I can’t let her hurt the girl.
“Do you want to be a princess?” my mother purrs, as she kneels in front of my adopted niece. “You will be my new heir and the people of our kingdom will adore you.”
May looks at me uncertainly, her long black hair tangling over her shoulders. “Why are you hurting her?” she whispers. “Please don’t hurt her.”
“You’re a kind little girl,” Mother purrs. “But you see what happens when those you are kind to betray you? You give them everything and they try and steal all your happiness away. I can’t let them steal my happiness, May. They must be punished. Do you understand?”
There’s only one way to protect May. I seek out Edain. “Protect her, please protect her. Tell Vi what happened here. I’ll—”
“Send her north,” Mother tells the guards, giving them a lazy nod as she sweeps toward the doors with May’s hand in hers. “She’s the goblin king’s now. I have a new crown heir.”
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