by Sarina Dorie
She was right. It wasn’t.
I struck Odette again, this time on the shoulder. Her laughter abruptly ended in a gasp. This wasn’t her affinity, and it brought her no pleasure as it would have her brother. That didn’t mean she couldn’t harvest the energy in the way he had taught me. I drank it in before she could, drawing the pulsing rawness into me.
“You’re a weak and sniveling little Witchkin,” Odette said. “You’re pathetic just like your mother.”
I didn’t know whether she meant my biological mother, Alouette Loraline, or Abigail Lawrence, the woman who had raised me as her own child.
It didn’t matter which mother she was insulting. The rage channeled into my hand, and I lashed out at her again, this time harder. The magic I harvested was more delicious than chocolate-covered heroin with a side of cocaine.
I wanted more. I needed more.
I swung at her again.
I didn’t enjoy hurting someone, therefore I wasn’t like Alouette Loraline. I was only doing this because I had to. That’s what I told myself. It had nothing to do with candy-coated black magic. I needed to gain my strength to face the Raven Queen.
Odette cried out when I whipped the stick across her shoulder, drawing a line of blood.
She could have stopped me. If not through magical means, then physically. She was bigger and taller than I was. She could have tackled me, even from her position on the ground. But she didn’t, either attesting to her understanding of the necessity or because she was like a mistreated dog. Vicious and full of wrath to her enemies, but subservient to the master who tamed her through violence. Neither idea suited me any better than the other.
Something snapped as I struck Odette’s wing.
Tears rolled down my cheeks. I didn’t like what I was doing to her. I didn’t like how much I enjoyed the flavor of this dark magic. I lapped up the magic, luxuriating in the ambrosia of pain.
“More,” Odette said through clenched teeth. “Show her you mean it.”
I hit Odette harder, thinking about how she had been the one who had given Abigail Lawrence that acorn in the first place. She had used her blood magic to make it grow. She had convinced my fairy godmother it was in her best interest to transform herself rather than be tortured and starved. Odette had told her it was the only way to save herself from becoming the Raven Queen’s servant and hurting me. But she’d been wrong. She’d even known Felix Thatch would be returning.
Having a scapegoat helped fuel my fury.
Odette endured the beating with muffled whimpers and moans, but she screamed when I hit the delicate bones in the wing again. Knowing I could employ an injury to my advantage, I used her weak spot to fuel more pain.
I collected the energy, using it to charge the generator of electricity in my core. My magic worked better now, as I spun it in a dance inside me. I could see the trees in the darkness. My senses came alive, alert to the rustles and whispers closing in around me.
I grew stronger.
My skin glowed like a lamp, and my affinity swelled with power. As my magic strengthened, my awareness spread without effort. I became more aware of the verdant life inside the oak tree that had been my adoptive mom. Sorrow and regret oozed from the being who was still in part my fairy godmother. She didn’t approve of what I was doing, no doubt. My swing momentarily faltered.
I didn’t want her to see me as a monster.
My heightened perception caught Odette’s depleted magic, not drained completely, but her reserve needed time to resupply after the way I’d stolen from her to give to my fairy godmother. She slumped to the ground, resigned to enduring the lashes without complaint.
I forced myself to remember why I was doing this. Not for power and not for revenge. I was gathering a tithe of magic as a gift. I funneled magic into my voice to reach the farthest corners of the castle. “I summon Queen Morgaine to hear my bargain.”
A voice as chilled as ice skated across the silence and shivered up my spine. “No need to shout, ma chère. I am here.”
The Raven Queen strolled out of the shadows, a black train made of feathers trailing across the leaves behind her. She reminded me of a fallen angel with her midnight wings and unearthly beauty. In her hand she held a scepter with a large crystal encased in a metal web at the top. A crest of an hourglass with wings protruding from it decorated the metal head.
A metal wing dripped with blood. I didn’t want to think about whose it could be. Not Thatch’s, I prayed.
Her gaze flickered to the stick in my hand and to Odette. A satisfied smile tugged at her lips.
I was surprised she didn’t scold me for damaging one of her favorite pets. I dropped the stick.
She inhaled deeply, as if she had caught the scent of a delectable perfume. She let out an airy breath full of satisfaction.
Shadowy figures crowded behind their sovereign. They stayed back, though. No one wanted to gather too close to me after the lightning show I’d let loose earlier. Perhaps if they had realized how much magic I needed to do that, they wouldn’t have been so scared.
The Raven Queen batted her eyelashes in a deceptively cloying manner. “What is your greatest desire? That is why you’ve called me, is it not? To ask a boon from me, and in exchange, to pay me in kind.”
I lifted my chin. “I want you to change my fairy godmother back into her human form.” I made the demand, knowing she wouldn’t be able to fix the spell after what Odette had told me.
Odette had used blood magic, a spell that a Fae wouldn’t be able to break. Yet, I had to try.
The Raven Queen’s dark eyebrows shot upward in mock surprise. “Whatever do you mean? What form has she taken?”
The shadows behind the queen snickered and croaked, the noises of amusement they made less human than animal.
“She turned into a tree.”
“Pity.” Her gaze flickered to the oak behind me. “She was always so fearful of you being drained and turned into a vegetable. Who would have thought she would suffer such a fate herself, no?”
I chose my words with deliberate care. “Are you powerful enough to turn her back? To return her body and mind to the health they were before?”
She lifted her chin. “I am the most powerful queen in all the Fae courts, yet there are some magics that even I cannot undo.”
Always before I had rushed into danger to do what I thought was right without considering the consequences. I had weighed these actions and was aware of how badly this could go if I overestimated my ability to trick a trickster at her own game.
“Then you are saying a simple Witchkin can do magic that you can’t undo?” I demanded.
Her eyes narrowed. “Those with the Red affinity possess no ordinary Witchkin magic. I cannot break through the electricity around this magic. Nor can any Fae.”
“So I can do something you can’t? Little old me can perform a spell you can’t break?” I demanded.
She took the bait. “Of course you can. You’re Alouette Loraline’s daughter. She passed on her powers to you. Unskilled and untrained as you are, anyone can see your power. You know her secrets. Only you can perform the forbidden magic of the Lost Red Court.”
“That’s right. I’m the only one,” I said. “And if you kill me, the knowledge will be lost.”
This was what I needed, for her to admit how useful I was out loud. She had to be the one hurting for a favor. She needed to be in my debt. If I played my cards right, she would offer me the world to harness my magic. It needed to be her idea to make the bargain, not mine.
I stared into her all-black eyes, using anger to fortify my courage. “If you vex me and keep me from what I want, then I’ll never share my secrets with you. I will remove the memories from my mind and stomp the truth into splinters rather than give them to you.”
She frowned. Her gaze raked over Odette breathing heavily on the ground. “You’ve made your point.”
“Have I? Do you truly understand the di
reness of your situation?” I waved a hand at the whispering creatures behind her who were attempting to hide in pockets of mist and the shadows of trees. “All creatures who live in the Faerie Realm will become extinct because you didn’t have the foresight to consider what would happen if you extinguished the one court able to propagate your race. Your people suffer because of your mistakes.”
The creatures murmured among themselves. There was nothing like the seeds of discontent to turn her supporters against her.
Odette dragged herself away, resting under a dead tree. She tried to haul herself to her feet but failed.
The court ignored her, their voices rising in agitation.
“Enough!” The queen’s face flushed red, and crackles of black segmented her face as though her skin were made of fractured porcelain.
She was a terrifying sight to behold. It took all my will not to flinch back.
Her voice boomed like thunder. “Do not lecture me, child. I am not the only Fae in this realm who exterminated your kind. Your beloved Silver Court participated in this slaughter as well.” The crackles marring her face faded. She spoke smoothly, though there was a cold edge to her words. “You wish an alliance? Very well. I will agree if that is your price to bring fertility back to my people.”
“No,” I said. “You already told me you wouldn’t ally yourself with anyone as dangerous as me. I’m too free-spirited to be trustworthy. That was what you said, was it not?”
Her lips pressed into a line. I had to be careful. Anger would fog her judgment, which I might use to my advantage, but it also put me in greater danger.
“You ask me what I want. I crave freedom from tyranny,” I said.
She waved a hand at me dismissively. “Very well. You may be free from my authority and command. Do as you will, and you will help me.”
That sounded like the kind of hypocritical Fae words I had come to expect. You’re free so long as you do as I wish. As Elric had often said, Fae were not creative. They were easy to predict, repeating the same pattern again and again. It was up to the ingenuity of Witchkin and Morties to interrupt that cycle. The realization made me optimistic.
“I want freedom for my people. I want Witchkin and Red affinities to be able to live in peace with each other. That means Fae and Witchkin will have to come together to form mutually beneficial relationships and alliances. Our families and houses will have to unite. Through marriage. Not enslavement.”
I waited for her to make the logical conclusion, to figure out what she could offer me that would fulfill this need. My confidence faltered as she stared at me with liquid-black eyes that looked as if they wanted to suck me in.
“Marriage? Now she’s gone too far!” a raspy voice said behind the queen.
She held up a hand to silence her court. “What do you mean by ‘houses?’ There is no Red Court anymore. There are no houses to unite.”
“As long as there are Red affinities, there’s a Red Court. That means you will have to work to make the magic of the Red affinity not forbidden. It has to be out in the open.” I had no doubt she could do this. She had more sway than Princess Quenylda had.
“Fae will not lower ourselves to marry Witchkin.” She lifted up her nose. “That is preposterous.”
“Is it? Or is it pragmatic?” I strode farther from the queen, placing a hand on the trunk of my former fairy godmother. It was the closest I could manage to holding her hand and feeling some measure of moral support. “If you want the Fae Fertility Paradox, you’re going to need to change how this world works. You can’t nurture this kind of magic in Witchkin if they’re ignorant of its existence. You can’t teach them to use it if they’re afraid of it.”
“Very well. I accept this demand as part of the agreement. Tell me the secrets of the Fae Fertility Paradox.” She glided past Odette, closer to me. Her gown appeared to be made of shadows and inky darkness.
I forced myself to stand my ground. “That isn’t a demand. I’m just telling it like it is. The Fae Fertility Paradox requires the Red affinity, and neither will work unless you undo the harm you’ve done.”
She eyed me coolly. “I will consider your pragmatism. What will you ask of me in exchange for this knowledge?”
Like all good negotiators, I started with the highball price, waiting for her counteroffer. “I would like to live in a world where Witchkin are not treated as slaves. I want you to start with Felix Thatch’s freedom.”
She tilted her head back and cackled. The shriek was reminiscent of what children imagined from wicked witches. Only this wasn’t a witch. It was a fairy queen.
The sharp points of her teeth flashed in the moonlight. “Felix Thatch is not a slave. I treat him as a prince. He is given a generous allowance and luxurious quarters. He can take lovers, come and go as he pleases, and do what he wishes with his time. He’s not a prisoner. Nor is he shackled—except when he asks to be.”
“A prince? Really? Do princes get punished when they don’t publicly humiliate themselves for the amusement of their fairy godmother who happens to be queen? Do princes have their wedding crashed and ruined by their sovereign? Is royalty forced to use sex and pain magic against their will? That’s the way Morties treat slaves, not people they care about.”
She placed a hand on her chest where a heart should have been—if she had one left. “Everything I do for my subjects is to protect them, to make them stronger. This is how I show my love.”
“That isn’t love! I love Felix Thatch. I want him, and I want him free of your service.”
Her lips twisted into a mocking smile. “Free from one master and into the arms of another.”
I didn’t like the glib comment, but I ignored it. As much as I would have liked to liberate all Witchkin slaves, sasquatches, and unicorns forced into the service of cruel Fae masters, break Priscilla’s curse that had turned her into a raven, free Odette from being treated like a ‘princess,’ and break all bonds of servitude that the Fae courts held over their prisoners, there was no way to change the world in a day.
All I could do was free one man. My husband. If I could manage that.
“That’s my price. Take it or leave it.” When she said nothing, I started off down the path, feigning disinterest.
In truth, it pained me to leave my fairy godmother. I hadn’t even said goodbye to her. Not really. Nor did I know whether I would ever return to this spot in the Raven Court again. If only she could have turned into a tree somewhere more convenient, where I could have visited her every day.
I pretended I knew where I was going down the path, but I had no idea how to get back to Womby’s. I doubted there were any unicorns who would venture into the spindly forest of dead trees to rescue me either.
“Halt. I will have your secrets!” Queen Morgaine’s voice boomed from behind me. “Tell me how to solve the Fae Fertility Paradox, and I will return your husband to you.”
“Alive?” I prompted. “Healthy and in one piece?”
“Oui. I will free him.” The Raven Queen’s voice came from behind me, but I spotted her ahead of me on the path.
The mist shifted, and the trees wavered. My world momentarily went topsy-turvy, and I realized I was walking toward the Raven Queen’s castle, not away from it. I headed toward Odette sitting against the oak tree I had just left.
The Raven Queen held out her hand to me. Light sparkled between her talon-like fingernails. “I will give you Felix Thatch after you demonstrate you can fulfill your end of the bargain. Do you agree to tell me the secrets of the Fae Fertility Paradox?”
I hesitated. I was probably making a mistake if she was agreeing so readily. Then again, I didn’t see what choice I had if I wanted to save my husband.
“I agree.” I held out my hand, knowing this would be a binding oath. There would be no way out of this.
That was what I was counting on.
CHAPTER TWO
Putting the Demon Back into Demonstration
Bri
ght light flashed as I took hold of the Raven Queen’s hand. That had to be the binding oath at work. Fire and ice prickled at my skin, flooding through my body in a wave. I recognized this would be the ideal moment to strike the queen down while she was distracted using other magic, only I hadn’t charged up the amount of energy necessary to do so.
She released my hand, and the light faded. A satisfied smile curled her lips upward. Already I felt uneasy. I was afraid the queen was about to capture a pawn in this game, and the pawn was me.
Will-o’-the-wisps bobbed through the trees, lighting the Raven Court as they danced in joyous revelry. An out-of-tune violin began to play. More instruments started up, discordant and out of harmony with other instruments. Fairies dressed in ballgowns slipped out from behind the trees and danced forward in celebration. The spindly figures of shrubs uncurled into lanky men with waistcoats and trousers made of tree bark. Conifers covered in dewdrops shifted into dark green ballgowns decorated with brocades of twigs that glittered with diamonds. Too bad my fairy godmother couldn’t have transformed back into a woman this easily.
The brown decaying leaves on the ground next to my feet rose. I leapt back from a creature wearing a coat made from dead foliage. His body took shape, filling out into the figure of a courtier. His mouth was as red as blood. He smiled with teeth sharpened to points. Women with beaks for noses and men with the bodies of birds squawked and stomped their feet.
I swallowed, fearing the Raven Queen had gotten the better end of the deal.
“Tell me, ma chère.” She touched my chin with the tip of her talon-like nail. “How does one solve the Fae Fertility Paradox.”
Just because I’d agreed to tell her how to have children didn’t mean she could conceive.
My mouth went dry. “Do you want to have children?”
“Oui. Can you do that? Alouette Loraline told me I’m too . . . mature.”
Ancient was more likely. Elric was five hundred. I didn’t know how old his Fae parents were. If they were the Raven Queen’s age, but they hadn’t produced offspring since Elric, she wasn’t fertile either. “How old are you?”