The Last Faerie Queen

by Chelsea Pitcher

  What happens when the light touches darkness?

  A shiver ripped through me. Now, the light was pouring in. My mother retreated farther.

  “Wait,” I called. “You really aren’t going to hurt us?”

  She was silent a moment. Finally, she said, “I have caused enough harm to those I’ve loved.”

  My breath caught in my throat. A part of me wanted to ask for more. But this was the closest she was ever going to come to saying she loved me, and it was enough. It would be enough.

  “And what of your throne?” I asked.

  I expected her to laugh, to tell me she was already rebuilding her court. Instead, she lunged forward, bringing with her the darkness. “Let me tell you a secret,” she whispered as tremors shot down my back. “The clever reign of chaos lends its subjects the illusion of free will. But the strength of the dictator is born of the disorder of revolution. You think yourself full of ideas that are new, belonging to you alone, but the cycle of rule and rebellion is as old as the earth, and sovereignty will rise again, when it is time. Until then … ” She lowered her lips to my cheek, and kissed. “Keep my throne warm for me.”

  Summoning a wave of darkness, the Queen of the Dark Faeries rose into the sky and disappeared.

  Taylor pushed himself to his feet. “Holy mother of … ”

  “Unholy,” I said with a smile. The light was pouring over us. “Let us get you somewhere safe. I can tend to your wounds, and—”

  “Not so fast, young princess,” a voice said, and I spun around to face the sun. To face the Bright Queen. She was carrying a crown made of flowers and leaves, a crown befitting the ruler of the Bright Court.

  She walked right up to Taylor and placed it on his head. “Your Highness,” she said with a bow.

  47

  TayloR

  The branches of the crown dug into my skin. The leaves tickled my ears. Any way you sliced it, I didn’t like it, but when I went to remove it, the Queen stopped me.

  “Wait,” she said, lifting a hand. “Think on it a moment.”

  Elora stepped up, ready to fight for me. My unstoppable princess.

  No, not a princess anymore, I thought. Just a faerie I love desperately.

  “Can we just … relax a minute?” I said, swaying a little. Everything hurt, but it could always get worse. “I think I’ve seen enough fighting for—”

  “Ever,” Elora finished for me.

  “Yeah. That.”

  “I came not to fight,” the Bright Queen said. “I came to fulfill my part of the bargain.”

  Elora shook her head, placing herself between me and the Queen. Protecting me again. “You promised to disband your court. You said if I took down the Dark Court, you would—”

  “Did I?”

  I felt like hands were tickling my spine. Now, after a night of surprises, I didn’t think I could handle any more.

  But that was too bad, because the Queen had three tricks up her sleeve, and she revealed them one after the other. “I did not say I would disband my court,” she corrected Elora. “I said I would relinquish my throne.”

  “What is the difference?” Elora demanded.

  The Queen nodded to me. That is, she nodded to my crown.

  Oh my God.

  “I relinquish it to him,” she said with a grin. “Whether or not he disbands the Seelie Court is up to him.”

  Surprise, I thought.

  “So you are taking over our world,” Elora snarled, advancing on shaky legs. “He will simply be the puppet who does your bidding—”

  “You misunderstand me,” the Queen said, plucking an object from the ground. Dusting the sand away, she handed it to Elora.

  For a second, they just stared at it. We all did. The circular frame curved up into spires. The poppies were bright against the bone. Red on white.

  “My mother lost her crown,” Elora mused.

  “And now it is yours.” The Bright Queen bowed a second time.

  Elora frowned. “How … no it isn’t,” she said.

  “You destroyed her court. Her people are waiting for your orders. All you have to do is put on that crown and you will rule our world. Together, with our new king, you’ll both rule.”

  “That’s why you asked for a leader,” Elora said. “In your riddle. A young leader of men … ”

  Surprise.

  Elora touched her lips. “You wanted a king for the Seelie Court, a mortal your people could follow. And you wanted me to love him, so that we could join both courts.”

  The Queen nodded.

  She isn’t the queen anymore. She isn’t the ruler.

  I am.

  Elora stared at me. “That doesn’t make sense. The faeries of the Bright Court might welcome a human king, but my people won’t. They’ll never bow to him.”

  “Why not? They bow to you, and you have mortal blood in your veins.” The Bright Queen smiled.

  “They do not know—”

  “They will. And they’ll still follow you, won’t they, darling? You freed them from bondage.”

  “But if I rule them, how am I any better than—”

  “You freed them from a corrupt queen, and from Naeve. They’re no longer servants.”

  Elora was silent a minute. Finally, she said, “So what if that’s true? Having a mortal father is not the same as being a full-blooded human. They will not follow him. Their prejudice is strong. It will take time, and—”

  “Blood,” the Queen said softly. I mean, the former Queen, but I couldn’t remember her name.

  “Enough blood has been spilled,” Elora said.

  “I am not speaking of blood spilled. I am speaking of blood sewn.”

  “Blood … what? I don’t understand.”

  But I did. Because now the Queen was looking at me. “Turn around, my young leader of men.”

  “I … don’t want to,” I said, swallowing. “And if I’m the king—”

  “Taylor Christopher—”

  “Unfair,” I said, turning on my own. I might as well do it if she was going to make me. I might as well act on my terms.

  “I don’t see … ” Elora began, but the Queen cut her off.

  “I have not shown you yet.” Then she did. There was an odd tingling in my back, and a rush of air, and then I was on the ground. The glamour had been torn away.

  “Oh, Darkness.” Elora stepped up close. I felt more exposed than I’d ever been. “What have you done to him? Why did you—”

  “To give him your blood, of course. Don’t you see?”

  And she did see. She must’ve, because she knelt down beside me. Touching the redness with soft hands, she whispered in my ear, “Does it hurt, love?”

  “Actually, the fall was worse.”

  Elora laughed. It made my heart hurt to hear it. It made me want to hold her.

  “If I had known—” she began.

  “You could not have known,” the Queen said, coming to face me. Coming to face us.

  Together, we stood against her.

  She took a step back. “You could not have known that you would connect with humanity, but I did,” she said to Elora. “I have known it since you were born. Why do you think your wings grew in so tattered when you were a child? All your life, a part of you was missing.”

  “The human part.”

  “Yes.”

  “And when I came to you with my plan, you sent me to go find it.” Elora swayed, and I linked my arm through hers to keep her from falling. She looked to me and smiled. “But how did you know I would fall in love?” she asked the Bright Queen.

  “I didn’t. But I knew you would connect with them more than expected, and it would be enough to make you question your mother’s teachings about humanity. I knew you would find one among them who was strong, and sweet, and by the time you bro
ught him back to me, perhaps your feelings would have—”

  “Why did it have to be a he?”

  The Queen looked amused. “It did not have to be. But if we are to survive as a species, and continue to create life—”

  “Oh. Oh my God.” I turned to Elora. “You survived because you’re half human.”

  “Survived what? The iron in the graveyard?”

  “Yes, but not only. Your human side is the reason you were born.”

  Elora looked at me, eyes narrowing. God, they were bright. “What are you saying?” she asked.

  I thought of the faerie story she’d told me, back in the human world. “I’m saying that iron is poisonous to faeries, right? And the more humans produce it, the less often faeries are born. But centuries after the last faerie baby was born, you arrived. Why?”

  Elora sucked in a breath. “Because of my human side.”

  “Because you are both,” the Queen said. “Because you are better. Stronger than any of us, in a way. Able to withstand iron and use magic. But it wasn’t until you engaged both sides of yourself that you came into your power. It wasn’t until you walked in both worlds, and—”

  “This is all conjecture,” Elora broke in. “The Bright Court’s way of thinking. Where I came from, my tattered wings made me inferior.”

  “Yes, because your mother believed you were inferior, that it was an act against nature to lie with a human. She thought your wings were a punishment for that.”

  I expected Elora to look hurt. Expected tears to spring into her eyes. But this time, she surprised me. She laughed. “I suppose it was quite a shock to see me flying then.”

  The Bright Queen started to laugh. Then I was laughing. We all were laughing.

  “The Dark Lady does not know everything,” the Queen said after a minute.

  “No,” Elora agreed.

  “None of us does,” I said.

  “So you sent me to find a human, believing I would connect with a human,” Elora said. “My human side would. And then, once I brought him back, he would take over your court, and I would take over mine.”

  “Only if you wish.”

  “But I still don’t understand. You gave him my wings—”

  “To give him your blood, dear princess. To make you one and the same. You have mortal blood in your veins, and now he has faerie blood in his. Whoever follows you will follow him.”

  Surprise.

  “I could really be a king?” I touched the crown. It still dug into my head, but it was bothering me less and less.

  “Together, you two can connect both courts, and eventually connect with humanity. And your child would be a symbol of that union.”

  I said, “Child?” as Elora said, “Symbol?”

  She turned to me. “What do you think, young leader of men? Do you think I am a superior being, come to usher in a new age of human and faerie entanglement?” She said it in a joking way, but I knew there was seriousness behind it. I knew this was important.

  “I think you’re the most beautiful, wonderful, powerful being I’ve ever met.”

  “But?”

  Oh, she knew me so well. I knew her. Maybe that was the point. “But I think placing one person, or one group of people, above others is what got us into this mess, both humans and faeries. I think it’s what keeps getting us into this mess.”

  “So I will not be better, or worse.” Elora looked to the ground. “I will only be different.”

  “And yet … ” I laced my fingers through hers. “We’ll be the same.”

  “You know what you have to do, then?” the Seelie Queen said. The former Seelie Queen. A person, just like us.

  I looked at Elora.

  She looked at me.

  Together, we dropped our crowns in the sand.

  48

  ElorA

  For a minute, our crowns mingled with the sand. His, of earth and leaves. Mine, of poppies and bone. Then slowly, quietly, they sank into the earth.

  I turned to face the Queen. “I have seen too much bloodshed under the guise of ruling.”

  “And I’ve seen too much control disguised as protection,” Taylor agreed.

  The Queen stared at us a long moment. Finally, her face broke into a grin. “Well done,” she said, clapping her hands. Then, more softly, “Better than I have done.”

  I stared at her. “We’ll see.”

  Taylor was standing beside me, his fingers still laced through mine. Please, don’t ever let go, I thought. Now, with my blood in his veins, he would live longer, though not for eternity. But here, in this moment, it was enough.

  “I will leave you now, if all your questions have been answered,” Lyndiria said.

  I nodded, letting the light recede. But when she had almost disappeared into the darkened forest, I called, “Why did you bind me?”

  She turned, a curious smile upon her lips. “I underestimated you,” she said simply.

  “What does that mean?” Taylor asked.

  The light was lapping at our feet. “I wanted a boy who was able to lead, but one who would not risk his life in battle,” Lyndiria said. “I wanted the same from you.”

  “That does not make sense,” I argued.

  “Doesn’t it? How long did your mother and I languish on our thrones? How many centuries did we send others to fight, while pretending to be brave ourselves?”

  “Too many to count,” I said.

  “And so, I loved that you were willing to fight, loved the bravery of it, but did not think you would actually survive the battle.”

  “Harsh,” Taylor muttered.

  “Ye of so little faith,” I agreed.

  The Queen smiled, looking down at us. Even now, I expected her to turn on us, to reveal herself to be an enemy.

  “So you bound me to protect me. And you sacrificed a person—”

  “I did not intend for Keegan to fall. I only intended to give him what he desired most, and protect you in the process.”

  I frowned, shaking my head. “And what of Taylor, then? What did you do to ‘protect’ him?”

  “She sewed the wings into my back,” Taylor explained. “She did it right before the battle, thinking it would incapacitate me.”

  “But it didn’t?”

  “It came close.”

  “And you still fought for me? In such agony?”

  “Worth it.”

  I closed my eyes. We needed to be alone. “Lady … ”

  “I am sorry for causing you pain,” Lyndiria said, shocking me. Faeries rarely apologized, and queens?

  Never.

  But she is not a queen, a voice reminded me. Neither is your mother. Neither are you. There are no queens or kings anymore.

  “I had a good reason for everything I did,” Lyndiria said, bowing her head. “But I am sorry for your suffering, and your losses.”

  “Thank you,” I replied. Then, “What are you going to do about it?”

  She looked up, surprised. “Excuse me?”

  “I was only thinking, since you have moved us around as pawns, perhaps you could do us a favor?”

  Her lips twisted up, amused by my boldness. “I suppose I could try.”

  I pulled Taylor closer to me. “Make certain no one bothers us tonight. Tomorrow, we will begin to rebuild our world. But tonight … ” I brushed my lips across his cheek. “Tonight is his and mine.”

  “It would be my pleasure,” said the fallen Seelie Queen. But as she slipped away, I called her back a second time.

  “Let me rephrase that,” I said. “Do not force people to stay away from us. Use your words, and use them nicely.”

  “Yes, Princess.”

  “Elora,” I said. “Only Elora.”

  “Whatever you say, my little beacon of light.” And then she was gone, leaving trickle
s of gold in an otherwise sapphire sky.

  “Finally,” Taylor said, turning to me. Wrapping his arms around me gently. “What’s wrong?” he asked after a minute.

  He must’ve noticed the look on my face. The way I kept staring in the direction of the Queen. “She called me a beacon of light.”

  “Yeah?”

  “That’s what my name means. The light in the darkness.”

  “Wait, what?”

  “Elora va Darchali,” I whispered, so no one else could hear me. “Darchali is an old fey word for the darkness. And Elora is—”

  “Greek,” he said, surprising me. “For light.”

  “Yes, how did you—”

  “Alexia.”

  “Ah, of course. Our cunning little linguist.” I shook my head. “I haven’t even thanked her for everything she’s done for me. I haven’t even thanked you.” I brushed the hair from his eyes, leaning in for a kiss.

  But just as I reached his lips, he said, “Maybe your father named you.”

  I pulled back, blinking at him.

  “Maybe she named me, through him,” I said, glancing in the Queen’s direction. Lyndiria’s direction. “Just to stick it to my mother.”

  “Maybe … ” Taylor said, following my gaze. “You don’t think she knew—”

  “No.” I bit my lip. “You?”

  “No, it’s impossible. She couldn’t have planned this entire thing. Couldn’t have known you were going to be born. Couldn’t have known you’d bring the courts to their knees.”

  “I did, didn’t I?” I said, grinning. “We did.”

  “And now we’re going to rebuild the world.”

  “But not tonight.”

  He froze, staring at me with a wild look in his eyes. His hair was messy, the way I liked it. “So you meant it?” he said. “I have the whole night with you? For once? No one can bother us?”

  I wove my fingers into his hair, pulling him closer. “You and me. All night.”

  “I could use some healing,” he confessed.

  “As could I.” I kissed his lips once, then twice. He tasted so sweet. “You forgive me, then?” I asked softly.

  “For what?”