by Quinn Loftis
“I’ve come—” Lysander began, but she cut him off.
“First,” Lilly said, her voice unnaturally amplified, courtesy of her friendly high fae, no doubt. “You will speak only after I have spoken. Second, you will address me appropriately when you speak. Third,” Lilly bit out the word, “how dare you come to the home of my clan during a time of mourning with your illegitimate challenge? And fourth, consorting with the enemy? Really, Lysander? I didn’t realize even you could stoop that low.”
His eyes widened, but the surprise lasted only a second as he quickly composed himself.
“Now,” Lilly continued, “you have come with the intention of challenging my rightful place to the throne, have you not?”
“Yes, your highness, I’ve—”
“And you’ve done your research on when it is appropriate to bring a challenge forward?” Lilly asked, cutting him off again.
“Of course, your highness, I wouldn’t—”
“Then,” Lilly snapped, completely ignoring the fact that he was again trying to continue speaking, “you must be aware that you have no right to challenge me at such a time as this.” She rushed on before he could speak. “As it is written in our laws…” Lilly looked down at the book and read. “When a king or queen takes the throne and is of a different bloodline than the previous ruler, any clan leader has a right to challenge the newly appointed ruler. This is so the ruler may prove they have the power to rule and protect the warlock people.
“The challenges must be made within six weeks of the new ruler taking the throne. The challenges must be made one at a time, and there must be a day of rest in between each challenge.
“A challenge is not to the death but until one party yields.”
“With all due respect, highness,” Lysander practically yelled in order to stop her, “we know our own laws.”
Lilly glanced up at him from under her lashes. Her lips turned up slightly. “Then you know this next one. A challenge may not be made during a time of war.”
Lysander’s clan shifted behind him, their faces changing from focused and supportive to uncertain as they began murmuring to one another.
“Our king was recently slain in battle. The battle was part of a war that is not over, as our enemy is still out there,” Lilly persisted. “You, sir, are seeking to divide our people when we need to be united. You are challenging the will of your king, when I have previously demonstrated that he has given me his power. You knew this, as you felt the transfer of his power at the time of his death. You heard his words ripple through the bonds of his leadership. And still you stand before me, my warriors, and your clan, and you dare to claim that what your king decreed is for another. Tell me, Lysander, did you ever consider him your king to begin with, or have you all these years simply been playing make-believe, biding your time until an opportunity came when you thought you could take something that has never been yours for the taking?”
Lysander’s face twisted into a look of pure hatred as he glared at her. His yellow eyes glowed with rage, and his hands shook at his sides. Apparently, she’d hit some nerves.
“How dare you?” Lysander snarled.
“How dare you—your highness,” Lilly corrected. “Continue,” she said as she closed the book and held it out to Peri. She had no clue what the high fae would do with it, but Lilly needed both of her hands free.
“You aren’t just a new bloodline,” he spat. “You’re not even a damn warlock. You’re an orphan sprite who didn’t even grow up in our world. You have no idea what it means to lead a race of supernatural people, and you sure as hell do not know how to prepare us for war with the likes of the Order of the Burning Claw.”
The way he said the Order’s official name, with a sound of awe in his voice, disgusted Lilly. There was no awe owed to a group of murdering, egomaniacs who were willing to kill anyone who stood in their way.
He started to take a step toward her, but Lilly shot her hand out, letting a bolt of power land just in front of his toe. “Do not take another step,” she warned as she felt her power crackle in the surrounding air. “You say I have no idea how to prepare us for war, yet you consort with the Order behind our backs? Is that how you prepare for war?”
“Negotiating with your opponent can prevent loss of lives … highness.” He spoke her title as if it were a disgusting taste in his mouth.
“You’re attempting to negotiate with the very people who cut your king’s head from his body,” Lilly said through clenched teeth. The images of Cypher’s falling form filled her mind, and she had to lock her knees to keep her legs steady beneath her. She felt Cypher’s hand pressing firmly against her back, a reminder he was there even though she could not see him. She imagined it was so she wouldn’t accidentally look up at him and appear a little crazy.
“Would you rather more of us ended up headless?” Lysander challenged. “Is that to be the legacy of your rule, Lilly of the sprites?”
“It is Queen Lilly to you, sir, of the warlocks, and you would do well to remember your place.” Lilly fumed. She wouldn’t be surprised if there was actual steam rising from her skin. “My legacy has not yet been decided, but I can tell you this.” She started to take a step forward but felt something hold her back. Perizada. It was a reminder she wasn’t supposed to move. Lilly shifted back. “It will not include consorting with those who wish to subjugate those weaker than themselves. I will not leave a legacy behind me that would see the warlock people kneeling to the likes of traitors like Ludcarab, Alston, or Cain. I will not expect my people to bow to anyone, especially those who would ask them to hurt innocents. I will not allow you to lie to them and make them think your interests are anything less evil than that of the Order’s.”
“You’re accusing me of treason, my queen. I’m a leader of one of your clans. That’s a very serious accusation. Do you have any proof of this claim?” He crossed his arms in front of his chest, a smug smile spread across his lecherous face.
“As ambassador for the Great Luna…” Peri spoke up. She turned to Lilly. “May I speak, your highness?”
“The floor is yours,” Lilly said, motioning with her hand before her.
Peri inclined her head and then turned back to Lysander. “As ambassador for the Great Luna,” she began again, “and an acting enforcer of the supernatural races, I bring information concerning the accusation to the queen.” Peri held up her hands and light flew from them. Suddenly the air was filled with small, wing-flapping beings. Pixies, at least fifty or more. They were frozen where they flew, unable to move except for their heads, which were swinging around wildly trying to figure out why they were petrified. “Hello, King Ainsel of the pixies,” Peri said to the figure hovering beside Lysander.
Lysander’s eyes were no longer calm, and the smug smile fell. He looked to his right where the king of the pixies was frozen in the air. The clan leader took a step to the left as if attempting to distance himself.
“Would you like to confess and perhaps lighten the sentence you will face?” Peri asked the pixie king. “Or should we simply ask the djinn historian to confirm what we”—she motioned to Lilly beside her—“already know.” Lilly knew Peri hadn’t forgotten that Thadrick probably didn’t know crap at the moment, but the pixie king hopefully wasn’t aware of this. It would work in their favor if he believed Thadrick could confirm the accusations.
“Whatever he says will be a lie,” Lysander said. He tried to take an additional step away from Ainsel, but Lilly sent out another bolt of lightning, stopping him in his tracks.
“Ainsel?” Peri sounded very bored. “You’re already in enough trouble as it is.”
The pixie king sighed. “I really do despise you.” Hate filled his eyes.
“I’m sad,” Peri said dryly. “Really. I care so deeply what you think of me. I’ll need counseling after this, I’m sure. I’m sorry to see our friendship end, but seeing as how I do not endeavor to befriend those who are murdering, lying cowards, I just don’t think we can mend th
is relationship.” The high fae paused, and her lips turned up into a sinister smile. “Your confession, now.”
Wow! Note to self: do not get on Peri’s bad side.
“Lysander asked if I would help him overthrow the warlock queen,” Ainsel said. His voice held no inflection, as if what he was saying meant nothing at all. “I agreed. In return, he promised the warlocks would stand with the Order when the time came.”
Suddenly, the warlock warriors pulled their swords in one fluid motion, sending a harmonious ring throughout the forest. Gerick held up his hand in a fist, and the warriors stilled, blades at the ready.
“You cannot let him live,” Cypher’s voice came from beside her, though his physical form was still not visible. “And you must be the one to kill him. Provoke him to attack you.”
Lilly narrowed her eyes on the clan leader, who was trying hard to look outraged at the pixie king’s accusations. “So this is the legacy you would leave if you were king?” she asked him.
Lysander’s head whipped around to her. She watched as his hands lit up bright green with power. She was proud to find she wasn’t afraid. “I offer my people strength. You offer them more bloodshed, and at what cost? To protect humans who would see us dead the minute they find out what we are?”
“You cannot predict the future,” Lilly said, letting her hands fill with her own power. Bolts of electricity ran through them and danced in her palms. “You have no idea how the humans would react if we ever revealed ourselves to them. Regardless, you cannot decide their fate based on what you think might happen. You would see them bow at your feet or be slaughtered like cattle. That does not make you powerful, Lysander. It makes you a tyrant. Tyrant’s care nothing for those they lead. They only care for power and gaining more of it.”
“YOU KNOW NOTHING OF WHAT I CARE FOR,” he bellowed at her, spittle flying from his lips. “These are my people! Mine! Not yours!” He moved forward and she let him, holding out her hand to Gerick to let him know not to act. “Cypher took you as his queen because he was lonely. He was weak. You were never worthy to rule at his side, and you sure as hell aren’t worthy to rule without him.”
“I guess there’s only one way to find out,” Lilly said, unable to stop the smile that spread across her face. Jen would have said it was her “bring it on” smile. And it was.
Lysander returned her smile with one of his own. It was so evil the look turned Lilly’s stomach. There was no way in hell she would let this man be the leader of the warlock people.
“Watch his left foot,” Cypher’s voice came again. “It will shift slightly just before he attacks.”
Lilly glanced down and sure enough, the heel of his left foot moved a fraction to the right as his hand lifted and a bolt of power flew at her. She raised her hand and drew up a shield, blocking the green ball of light. She did not know what would happen if Lysander’s charge actually hit her, and she had no desire to find out.
Lysander didn’t give her time to watch for his foot to move again. He sent a barrage of balls of fire, one after another. It reminded her of Peri’s assault of snowballs, only the projectiles flying at her now wouldn’t just leave her sopping wet.
One after the other, Lilly blocked, but she knew she couldn’t stay on the defensive if she wanted to win. She had to attack, but he wasn’t giving her an opening. “Peri, can I move yet?”
“Working on it, queenie. A little patience would be nice,” the high fae said as she moved her hands in a weaving motion.
“Forgive me if I’m trying to not get my ass killed over here,” Lilly bit out. She shifted her hands. Lightning flowed from them, tracking Lysander’s movements as he shifted right and then left. She realized he was creeping closer to her. “Dammit, Peri. Hurry the hell up.”
“I’m trying, bloody hell. The holes are not in the ground. They are portals that will drop your ass into the In Between the second you step into one of them,” Peri explained.
“While I appreciate the fact that you want to inform me of what my possible demise could be,” Lilly said, increasing power, attempting to push Lysander back, “I don’t really give a damn. I need to move. He’s getting closer.”
“Alllllmmmmoooosst,” Peri drew the word out and then finally said, “there. Done. Go.”
Lilly didn’t hesitate. She jumped down the steps, landing less than six feet from Lysander. Suddenly one of his hands held a sword. It glowed a deep blue. Lilly didn’t let the shock register on her face. A damn fae blade. How the hell? The Order must have given him one.
“Eyes on your opponent, queenie,” Peri yelled at the same time a blade appeared in Lilly’s hand. It was good to have friends in high places. Pun intended.
At the same moment Lysander stepped forward, his blade raised, Lilly saw a fae stone appear behind him on the ground. Another appeared to her left. He must have noticed them, too, because he quickly glanced around. Lilly looked and saw that the stones had formed a circle around them both. Hmm, wonder what the sneaky little stones are up to?
She decided she didn’t care at the moment because her foe was distracted. Lilly struck. She brought her sword down in an arc, but Lysander must have seen it out of the corner of his eye. He lifted his blade at the same time and blocked it, their blades clanging as they met. At the same time, he lifted his other hand, but Lilly had anticipated he’d try to use his magic with his free hand. She’d already sent out a bolt of lightning, and it hit him right in his palm before he could even form a ball of light. The smell of burnt flesh permeated the air.
Lilly’s eyes lit up as their swords separated, and they both danced back. They began to circle one another. Lysander’s hand had a nice, clean hole burned straight through it. Damn, that had to hurt. Lilly shot some bolts at his feet, hoping to damage one of those appendages. If he couldn’t stand, it would be seriously hard for him to fight back. But he dodged, all the while keeping her sword hand engaged with his own. He turned, bringing his sword around, and Lilly had to shift her feet quickly to the right to catch his blade before it made contact with her shoulder. She shoved forward, pushing him back. He took a step away and his foot slipped past the circle of the fae stones. Suddenly, his foot caught on fire. The stone he’d slid past was red: the fire stone.
Lysander leaped back into the center of the circle, yowling and slamming his damaged hand wildly at the flames on his foot, attempting to put them out. Lilly didn’t bother to wait to see if he would accomplish his goal. She fried his other foot and watched him drop to the ground. She kicked out and knocked the blade from his hand. In the next second she had him on his back, her knee on his chest and the tip of her sword directly against his throat. She used her free hand to send a bolt of lightning into his sword-free hand and fried it as well. Now, he couldn’t attack her with either hand. He was still screaming in pain from his flaming foot.
“I yield, I yield,” he wailed as he stared up at her. Hate gleamed in his eyes.
Lilly pressed her blade even harder until she saw the tip break through his skin and a trickle of blood bubble up.
“I said, I yield!” he screamed, his voice rising several octaves. He was desperate, but the hate was still there. He had no respect for her, regardless of the fact that she’d beaten him.
Lilly kept her blade at his throat, pressing into him, reminding him she held his life in her hands. She looked up at his clan, meeting their eyes, shifting her own from face to face. “For crimes against our people, treason, breaking the laws of challenge to a reigning monarch, and for breaking the terms of a challenge by attempting to use another being’s magical assistance to kill me, I sentence Lysander, of Clan Lowthorne, to death.” She waited to see if any would challenge her or stand up for their leader. They each dropped their eyes.
Lilly looked back down at him. His mouth had dropped open, and his yellow eyes no longer glowed. He’d finally realized she wasn’t going to spare him. He would not have another chance to betray them. “You made your choice,” Lilly said to him. “And you will die b
ecause of it.” She didn’t hesitate for a second as she slid her blade smoothly into his throat. Blood spewed from his carotid artery, covering her hands and torso.
There was no satisfaction in taking his life. Lilly found no gratification, although he’d been a traitor and would have killed her in an instant. She only felt sadness. This man had betrayed his people. He’d turned his back on them when they needed him to be strong and stand beside them. There was no victory in his death.
When there was no breath left in his body, Lilly stood and stepped back. She lowered her head and sent up a prayer to the Great Luna, asking for wisdom. She’d proven herself, but now she had to actually lead them.
Lilly lifted her head and looked around at her warriors, her own clan, and at Clan Lowthorne. The other clan leaders were not present. No doubt, Lysander had kept his challenge a secret from them. He knew their loyalties would have lain with Cypher and his appointed one. She took a deep breath and then turned in a slow circle so she could look at everyone present.
“I do not know what the future holds for our people,” she said, the knife in her hands dripping dark blood upon the ground. “What I do know is that I will do everything I can to fight for us, for what is right, what is good, and for the Great Luna. I will put the truth before lies, your needs before my own, and always seek the will of our Creator. This is what I can offer you as your queen. But it is ultimately your decision as the warlock race if you wish me to lead you. So what say you?” She continued to turn in a slow circle, waiting, watching. She would step down if that is what they wished. Lilly would not force herself upon them. That would make her no better than Lysander.
As one, Gerick and his warriors knelt, their swords in front of them, tips on the ground and their heads bowed. “Your warriors give you our fealty, Queen Lilly,” Gerick said as he laid his sword down, the hilt facing her. “Our blades are yours.” The rest of the warriors did the same.
The rest of the warlocks all around her dropped to their knees and bowed their heads. Lilly’s heart beat hard in her chest as she watched in awe. The traitor’s blood on her hands was drying, growing sticky, but she ignored it, humbled by her people’s trust in her.
