Exiled Queen (The Thief's Talisman Book 3)

by Emma L. Adams

  “Shit, yeah. You can’t do the same, can you?”

  She shook her head. “No. Not with Rose, either, but we were together before Lady Whitefall replaced my magic. We’re not magically compatible like that, but it never mattered.”

  “I don’t think it does,” I said. “Believe me, if I’ve learned anything, it’s that compatibility with magic doesn’t necessarily mean you’re good for one another.”

  I’d meant Robin and me, but she said, “Cedar. What does he think?”

  “He doesn’t know,” I admitted. “And—I think she’s looking for him. He’s the talisman she’s after.”

  “No,” she said. “Surely not. How could that be possible?”

  “He inherited his magic from Lady Hornbeam,” I said. “And to think he thought his magic isn’t worth anything.”

  We both fell silent, picking at our food. I felt Cedar join us without looking at him, because my magic sprang to attention when he came near. Maybe because his magic had been inside me, and mine in him, when we’d exchanged powers. A type of intimacy I hadn’t known was possible.

  “Raine?” Cedar asked. “Are you feeling okay?”

  Apparently he couldn’t sense the connection as intensely as me. Then again, we were in a public place. “I should be asking you that,” I said. “You nearly died.”

  “I’m fine. Are you going to leave June outside?” asked Cedar. “The guards are asking questions. Isn’t she still vow-sworn to Lady Whitefall, technically?”

  I shook my head. “No. What we did to her… undid that. She’s on the other side of the iron barrier, besides. If she goes back to Lady Whitefall, she’ll find out we destroyed the sword’s magic. I highly doubt June wants to be on the receiving end of her anger.”

  “Maybe,” said Cedar. “Nobody knows where Aspen fled to, though there are patrols searching the forest.”

  “Damn,” I said. “I’m sorry. I made things worse by getting so close to him. The vow…” Nearly made me kill my father.

  As much as I’d desperately wanted to believe it wasn’t him, that the man I’d taken care of for most of my life hadn’t morphed into a stranger, I knew in my heart it’d really been Dad. Not the person I knew, but the man who’d fallen into Lady Whitefall’s hands and somehow ended up in the mortal realm as a human.

  Thanks to Aspen’s vow, I might never see the real him again. And I’d done what I said I’d never do. I’d turned my magic against my father.

  “It wasn’t your fault,” Viola said. “None of us expected Aspen to know our army was coming. On the other hand, he wildly overestimated the hold he had over the Sidhe. He won’t make the same mistake again.”

  “No, he won’t,” I said.

  I didn’t mention the obvious—that the hypnosis I’d used on my dad wouldn’t last forever, and he’d be back in Aspen’s hands at the first opportunity.

  Viola yawned. “I’m off to find Rose. You two should get some rest. It’s been a rough day.”

  I nodded in acknowledgement, rising from my seat to follow her, but Cedar laid a hand on my shoulder. “It really wasn’t your fault,” he said in a low voice. Even here in the corner, people darted looks at us from all around the room.

  I shrugged. “Maybe not. I should go and check on June again.”

  “There’s no need,” Cedar said. “I asked some of the guards to watch her. They’ve set up an iron barrier around her so she can’t attack anyone. We’ve lost too many people today.”

  No kidding. They were his people. The way the soldiers looked at him said it all. He was their leader, a Lord in all but name, and I’d never felt so alone in his presence. Nor so aware of the light humming sensation when my magic brushed against his.

  “Yeah. We have.” I began to walk away, and a moment later, he followed.

  He spoke in a low voice. “What you did for me out there…”

  “You mean the healing magic?” My heart rose into my throat. This was it. I didn’t know if my mother was actively seeking him out—after all, she’d need to have me on her side before she could use his magic in conjunction. And that would never happen. Never. “I don’t know how I did it,” I said quietly, turning down the nearest corridor away from overly curious observers.

  Cedar kept pace with me. His hand brushed mine, our fingers interlocking. “I don’t either, but the Sidhe don’t claim to know all magic’s secrets.”

  “I took on your power. I doubt I can do that to just anyone. I think it’s the link between our magics. They complement one another.”

  Cedar shook his head. “I’ve never heard of anyone being able to trade magic with another person. Not even from Lady Hornbeam. She had a large number of talismans, and nothing of that nature ever occurred, here or elsewhere. I think there’s more than one reason Lady Whitefall left her sceptre behind when she fled.”

  “Yeah, about that,” I said. “She got it from the Vale. Same place the sword came from. They’re not your run-of-the-mill talismans, but hell if I know what they are, exactly.”

  And what did that make his magic? The sceptre was a legend, a talisman which magic couldn’t be removed from unless its wielder met with its equal, and our combined magic unlocked it.

  Cedar squeezed my hand. “Whatever they are, it’s not to do with our own magical compatibility,” he said. “I know my own magic. Even when we traded powers, my magic behaved the way I expected when you used it.”

  “I still can’t say I know everything about mine,” I said. “Except yours charges it up to max power.”

  Cedar let go of my hand. Without my noticing, we’d walked all the way to the tapestries beside the corridor leading to his room. “By the way, I don’t think the guest room is particularly suitable accommodation for someone who just won a battle. There’s a proper bath in my room.”

  “Was that a polite way of saying I look like shit?” I enquired.

  “No, but I expect you know by now that the guest rooms don’t come with warm water. Besides, I’m concerned about your arrow wound.”

  “You got shot too.” I’d expected him to see the lies in my face, but instead, he was inviting me into his room. No promises. No regrets—yet. I took in a deep breath. “All right.”

  The door at the back of his room did lead to a bath—or rather, in place of what I’d thought was a normal sized bathroom was what amounted to an indoor pool, an artificial replica of an outdoor pond, complete with real trees growing from the wall.

  “You said ‘bath’, not ‘swimming pool’,” I said. “This is probably a bad time to say I can’t swim.”

  A smile curled his lip. “I’ll make sure you don’t drown.”

  “So reassuring.” The water looked nice, though. Really nice. Almost enough to make up for my reservations about stripping in front of him. Court faeries had different ideas about modesty to those of us who’d been raised human, and besides, it wasn’t any use hiding my attraction to him. I just didn’t think my heart could take another betrayal.

  I stripped off my clothes, relieved to be rid of the sensation of wearing someone else’s blood, and sank into the water, groaning as it soothed my battered muscles.

  “I can help with that.” Cedar padded over to me. He’d removed his coat, too, and his shirt. Green light shone from his hands, and my tense muscles unknotted as he massaged my shoulders. “Nice trick.” I let the heat and warmth of the water wash away the dirt from my skin. If only it’d wash away my misgivings as easily.

  “The wound’s healed better than I thought,” he said, running a hand over my shoulder. There was a faint grey circle where I’d been shot, but it didn’t hurt. His healing magic had reached me in time. His own scars gleamed under the light of a thousand fireflies which flitted about the ceiling. Band-shaped scars on his toned arms and chest indicated the places where iron had left its permanent mark on him. The newest scar still had a ring of grey around the edge. A reminder of what we’d faced, and what remained to face.

  “Aren’t you going to get in?” I asked.
>
  “I’ll have considerably more difficulty keeping my hands off you if I did.”

  I stiffened, almost unconsciously, and he withdrew his hand.

  “Tell me what you want from me, Raine, please,” he said, in a low voice. “If I’ve done something wrong—”

  I twisted around to face him. “Cedar, this… our magic… it would never have happened if I hadn’t picked up the talisman. If I hadn’t come here. What you think you feel for me—it’s a magic trick.”

  “You really think that.” He frowned. “I think I fell for you long before I saw you use the talisman’s magic. Maybe the first time I saw you.”

  I shook my head. “You’re joking. You didn’t know me then.”

  “I’m not,” he said, seriously. “And I wanted to know you, even if you thought I was someone I wasn’t.”

  “You used me to get your hands on the talisman,” I said quietly. “I was nothing more than a means to an end. You might have changed your ways and decided you want me now I stand a chance against the Sidhe, but don’t try to fool me with that.”

  “Have I ever given any indication that’s what I think?” he asked. “I can swear a vow on my life that I will never use your magic against your will.”

  “No, you’d bloody well better not,” I said. “I’m not being responsible for any more vows, here or otherwise. I’m not her. And if you think I’d do that to you—”

  “I’m sorry, Raine.” He closed his eyes, then opened them again. “I didn’t mean to imply you were. I feel responsible for pressuring you to look at things the way the Sidhe do. In the beginning—I approached things all wrong. You’re better than they are. And that’s not why I want you.” He leaned over me in the water, green light flashing across his eyes. “I want you because you’re kind and caring in a way the Sidhe will never understand. And,” he leaned closer, his magic sparking against mine, “you are far more to me than a means to an end.”

  Prove it, whispered a selfish voice in my head. But he had, a thousand times over. I just hadn’t been willing to accept it. Betrayal had hollowed me out, making me forget how hope, even joy, felt. The spark of his magic on mine was only one part of it. I leaned forward and kissed him in answer, hard.

  “That was a yes,” I said, “in case you were wondering.”

  Light from the fireflies overhead sparkled in his eyes as I kissed him again. I buried my hand in his soft hair and he made a half-strangled noise deep in his throat, kissing me back with enough passion to send fireworks to my fingertips. Our magic brushed against one another, sparking, igniting, Summer and Winter, light and shadow, day and night. Not opposites, but something else.

  “Cedar,” I gasped. “If you don’t take the rest of your clothes off now, I’m going to pull you into the water.”

  He laughed and pulled me out of the water instead, straddling me on the bank, soft grass cushioning my back. “Isn’t this easier?” he asked, his voice a low purr.

  Trees shrouded us, blocking off the world outside, muffling the noises we made as we explored one another, slowly at first, teetering on the edge of control. Threads of magic swirled around us, but I paid them no attention. When he finally slid inside me, I moaned against his neck, my fingers digging into his skin.

  His hands gripped my hips, my name falling from his mouth like a curse or a prayer. We moved together, the friction gathering as we found our rhythm, as surely in sync as our magic. I let go, my back arching, and light exploded from our hands as we climaxed as one.

  I collapsed onto the soft grass at the poolside, my head pillowed on his chest, skin tingling pleasantly where we touched. He kissed my shoulder, tracing a path to my ear and nipping the skin delicately. “You were worth waiting for. Every second.”

  Chapter 19

  My sister’s vow wasn’t the nicest alarm clock. I woke with a jolt when my magic reacted and nearly fell off the bed. I dug my hand into the side of the mattress and poked Cedar in the arm. I didn’t remember how we’d ended up back in his room, but we must have stumbled in sometime around dawn.

  Cedar’s eyes cracked open. “What is it?”

  “I think my sister tried to leave our territory.” It wasn’t Aspen, otherwise I’d have felt a stronger pull.

  Cedar ran a hand over his face. “Our territory?”

  I poked him again. “What, do I have to ask permission, My Lord?”

  He grinned, though his brow furrowed. “I thought she couldn’t leave.”

  “So did I. Her vow to Lady Whitefall’s supposed to be gone. Maybe she got past the iron, or it was moved.” I scrambled for my clothes, cursing inwardly. If Lady Whitefall had reached her, she must have come back into this part of Faerie overnight. Weariness from yesterday’s battle made my hands clumsy. Cedar put a hand on my arm. Green light and warmth spread over my body, soothing the ache in my bones.

  I moaned as the sensation moved down my legs. “I didn’t know you could do that.”

  He smiled. “There are more perks to our ability to exchange powers. I could teach you later.”

  “Wish we had time to explore them.”

  He kissed me lightly on the lips. “So do I, Raine.”

  I’d have given anything to spend the day with him, but if my sister was on her way to join my mother’s latest scheme, I’d rather ambush her first. If Aspen could drag me over to him using the vow without speaking aloud, maybe I could do the same with June.

  I pulled on my clothes, transforming them into armoured ones, and stocked up on weapons. The sceptre lay on top of the cabinet where I’d left it. There was no power remaining inside it, but I distinctly remembered the bait-and-switch Cedar had pulled last time we’d faced Lady Whitefall. Maybe it’d work as a good luck charm, if nothing else.

  Once the two of us were outside the palace, Rose ran up to us, despair and terror shining in her eyes.

  “What’s going on?” I shot an alarmed look at Cedar. “Where’s June? And—Viola?”

  Rose shook her head. “I didn’t see June, but someone rode a horse past us in the forest, grabbed Viola, and took her. It was so fast—I can’t find her anywhere. I don’t know where they took her.”

  “The Vale.” My heart sank. “Which direction did the horse—?”

  A horrible screeching noise drowned out her response, followed by the beating of wings.

  “That’s… not a horse.” Rose stumbled back, gaping at the sky. As did I.

  The dark outline of wings blotted out the sky, passing overhead. The Morrigan… Impossible. She’d been chained up in iron nobody could break. But I’d felt her magic before, sensed it through the chains. The earth shook, and the trees shed their remaining leaves as the torrent of darkness trailed into the sky, leaving shadows in its wake.

  My mother had awoken the goddess of death.

  “I think,” I said quietly, “Lady Whitefall might be in the Death Kingdom.”

  Which meant Viola was there, too.

  “How?” Cedar stared at the sky. Of the three of us, only I had met the Morrigan in person. I’d thought the Sidhe had permanently chained her up. How could my mother have set her free?

  “I should have known she planned to go there,” I said. “Even the horses—they were from the Death Kingdom, too. I should have guessed she’d steal a minor throne before aiming for the main Unseelie Court.”

  “You think she’s there?” asked Rose. “But—then, where’s the Morrigan going?”

  “I don’t know. But I don’t see any horses.” I began to walk forwards. “There are redcaps and worse in the Death Kingdom and with the Morrigan gone, I don’t even know what’s waiting for us.”

  Rose shook her head. “I can’t leave her.”

  “We don’t know for sure she’s there,” I said, with a glance at Cedar. “But I’ve been there before. I can find the way. This might be a ploy to lure me away from the Hornbeams’ territory. Someone has to warn the soldiers. Cedar—”

  “I’m not staying behind,” he said. “I have enough guards watching for t
rouble around the palace.”

  “And they know an attack is likely,” Rose added. “If she’s hurt—I need to get her out of there.”

  We had no time to waste. “All right,” I said.

  I took the lead, walking swiftly through the woods. I’d begun to learn my way around the Hornbeams’ territory already, and once we passed into my own territory, I knew the route into the Death Kingdom well. Only now did I appreciate how close to the Grey Vale it was. The mist-wreathed paths were virtually identical to the Vale’s. It and Death weren’t so different. After all, nothing could die in the Vale. In the Death Kingdom, though… the Morrigan was the last true immortal. And my mother had been dead set on preserving her own life.

  What did she do?

  “Wait,” Cedar said from behind me. “What exactly is the Morrigan’s power? Why would Lady Whitefall target her first?”

  “She can’t die,” I said. “Lady Whitefall wants something bigger than Faerie. What’s bigger than the Courts?”

  There was a long pause.

  “Death,” he said. “Immortality. The Morrigan… she’s one of the last true immortals in Faerie.”

  “Exactly,” I said. “I can’t say I know what that means for us, except for a shitload of trouble if she’s allowed to roam free.”

  The Morrigan’s territory announced its presence with the foul stench of rotting meat and blood. Blood-soaked snow covered a sloping path to moat surrounding the Morrigan’s palace. Shaped like a domed tent, it loomed over a river of blood, and the only way in was to cross a bridge above the dead bodies heaped around the moat.

  “Lovely place, isn’t it?” I muttered to Cedar. “Watch out for low-flying birds.”

  He glanced at the sky, carrying a blade in one hand. “I think they’re the least of our problems.”

  Added to the corpses were fresh ones—the ogres which had once guarded her palace. The way inside lay clear. Even the horde of ravens had vanished along with their mistress.

  I walked ahead, Cedar and Rose behind me. I’d only seen the palace once and it was enough to give me nightmares, but most of the horror lay in the beast whose giant talons were chained to the throne.