Exiled Queen (The Thief's Talisman Book 3)

by Emma L. Adams

  I found an opening beside the nearest tree and climbed through, around tangled branches and tree roots protruding from the earth. Cedar must be here somewhere, but I couldn’t sense my own magic, let alone his. Minutes ticked by in frustrated silence as I scrambled and climbed, occasionally hitting my head or arm on a low-hanging branch. Eventually, water washed over my shoes, indicating I’d reached a pond or river. I stopped walking, using my right foot to edge around the water. The odds of something nasty lurking inside were too high to risk wading into it.

  A splash cut through the silence, and the darkness peeled away. For a moment, the forest reappeared. Then it vanished. And so did I.

  * * *

  I sat alone on a chair, looking down at a polished floor stained in blood. Not a chair—a throne, engraved in gold. Bodies lay in puddles of crimson, both human and half-blood, goblin and troll, fae-kind of all species. A thousand pairs of empty eyes reflecting the high ceiling of the hall back at me. A river of crimson reached the skirts of the long dress I wore.

  Where am I?

  The polished floor, slick with blood, looked familiar. The court room at the ice palace. Was this a memory? Wait—the dress, too. I’d seen it, in a memory. A dress I’d coveted as a child.

  Her. I’m her. Lady Whitefall.

  I held the sceptre in one hand, and a dagger in the other. And an entire Court lay slaughtered at my feet.

  I recoiled, and the scene changed.

  Laughing Sidhe surrounded me, pointing at me, cruel mouths twisted in smirks. Somehow I was on my knees in full human guise, covered in dirt. They kicked and spat at me, calling me names. Anger churned inside me, and a voice whispered in my ear—Kill them. Kill them all.

  The voice wasn’t mine. It came from the object in my hand. The sceptre glowed, and the floor rippled as spikes shot up, impaling everyone they touched. The laughing Sidhe had nowhere to run. Screams replaced laughter, and blood splattered the polished floor.

  I laughed, high and cold as her. But the voice that came out of my mouth was mine, not my mother’s. It was my magic, and my talisman.

  A hand grabbed my ankle. Cedar crouched at my feet, bleeding from deep wounds. He’d been caught in the spear-sharp trap, too. His eyes, wide with desperation, met mine.

  “Raine,” he whispered. “You can’t… you’re not her.”

  I didn’t move. His blood was on my hands, trickling from a corner of his mouth.

  “You’re right,” I said softly. “I’m worse than she ever was.”

  I pointed the sceptre at him.

  No. I’m not here. This isn’t me. I was in the forest… Cedar was with me…

  I jerked back, and the spell shattered like glass.

  I lay submerged in water, its bitter taste choking my lungs. I turned my head to the side and spat out a mouthful, coughing uncontrollably. If I’d been stuck under the spell for much longer, I’d probably have drowned. My clothes were weighted down with the water they’d absorbed. Shivering, I reached for my magic, and blue light shone around me. My soaking wet clothes transformed into fresh ones. I heaved out a breath, coughing again, unable to rid my skin of the sticky feeling of Cedar’s blood.

  There was no sign of him, but the darkness had gone. The pool of water nestled in a small clearing, surrounded by tall, thick trees, their branches forming a thick canopy which blocked out the sun.

  “Cedar?” I whispered, then called his name, louder. The woods caught my voice and threw it back to me, but nobody responded. I was far off the path, wherever it was. Cedar might be back there, or he might have wandered into a trap of his own. And our trail had long since gone.

  I edged around the pool where I’d been feeling my way in the dark. Tangled undergrowth snagged at my clothes. Losing patience, I blasted them with magic, but nothing happened.

  An anguished shout ripped through the darkness.

  My body went rigid. “Cedar?” I yelled, running for a gap in the trees. I stumbled over roots and undergrowth, cursing the blasted forest and all its inhabitants. A second shout drove me forward, in the direction of the noise.

  I kept running, and ran smack into Cedar. His gaze was wild, unfocused, and a trickle of blood ran from a cut on his forehead. He held his knife in a white-knuckled grip.

  “Whoa!” I was fairly sure—well, almost—that he wasn’t an illusion. He looked and felt solid, without the blurredness that’d accompanied the vision.

  Cedar’s lip curled in a snarl, green light flashed in his eyes, and he swung the knife at me. Okay, perhaps he thinks I’m not real.

  I dodged and caught his knife arm. “Cedar! It’s me.”

  Breathing heavily, he lowered the weapon. “I’ve been chased all over the woods by versions of you. I’d hate to have to kill you again.”

  “So would I, considering it’s really me.”

  He closed his eyes and opened them again. “Good. I don’t know what magic is at work in here, but it’s as strong as any faerie enchantment I’ve ever encountered.” He dabbed his bleeding forehead. Already, the wound was half-sealed over. His healing ability worked the same here as it did in the faerie realm. “Why are you all wet?”

  “I nearly drowned in a pond after seeing a vision of myself murdering everyone.”

  “Ah.” He stepped back, looking around us. “I think it’s designed to test us, somehow. I’m assuming that means we’re close to the witches.”

  “Right you are,” growled a quiet voice.

  I spun around, looking for the speaker. At my feet stood a small figure covered in fur. “I take it you’re here to see the Hemlock coven. Ivy Lane warned us of your coming.”

  I sagged with relief, then stifled a yelp as the tree roots beneath my feet moved, revealing a door between two thick-trunked trees. Marked with a symbol, it exuded ancient power that momentarily stole my breath. Behind the door lay a cramped-looking cave, decorated in luminescent webbing. I scowled. Just bloody perfect.

  Cedar rested a hand on my arm and shook his head, indicating the nearest web. Oh. Now the darkness had cleared, it was obvious they weren’t webs. Lines of text wove together like some ancient incomprehensible spell, not in any language I knew.

  The furred person beckoned us into the cave with a clawed hand. She was definitely some kind of shapeshifter faerie. Odd—I’d thought the witches hated the faeries.

  “It’s been a while since another of the fae came here,” she said. “Come in. Don’t be shy.”

  Bracing myself, I stepped into the cave. In the centre lay a huge tree, its roots sprawling on the floor. Except it wasn’t alive, more like a giant rock sculpture shaped like a tree than a living thing. And a face stared from its centre, ancient and craggy, with pit-like eyes. Other faces were etched into the stone walls. Their eyes were open, their foreheads wrinkled, and they were… alive. A raw kind of power, unfamiliar and terrifying, bound them to this cave.

  The ancient witch in the trunk-like sculpture leaned forward, her gaze landing on the crescent moon mark on my neck.

  “You’re the one,” croaked the old witch.

  I swallowed, my throat dry. She was older than any person without faerie blood had the right to be, yet intelligence shone in her gaze. “I’m Raine Whitefall, yes.”

  “And you?” She turned to Cedar.

  “Cedar Hornbeam.”

  “Two heirs. I don’t believe we’ve ever met two of you at once.” She looked from Cedar to me. “I am Cordelia of the Hemlock coven. I take it Ivy Lane told you to come here.”

  I nodded. “She said you knew where my dad went.”

  “Your father,” she said. “You might want to sit down.”

  My heart lurched. “Is he okay? Tell me.”

  “He’s alive.”

  “Good.” I closed my eyes, some of the tension unknotting inside me. “But—how do you know, and why did I have to come here to find out?”

  “It’s easier to show you. But first, I must grant you some context. You know a year ago that this realm almost fell to rogue
Sidhe again.” She paused for a moment. “There was once an outcast and impostor who called himself the Huntsman, carrier of the dead and leader of the Wild Hunt. He intended to use the magic that enabled the Sidhe to be reborn after death to create his own army. Ivy Lane put a stop to him, destroying the source of all immortality in the process.”

  Ivy destroyed it? So Ivy—all along, she was the reason the Sidhe were no longer immortal? If I hadn’t seen the talisman she carried, I’d never have believed it possible.

  “Ivy?” said Cedar, sounding just as stunned as me.

  “The very same,” said Cordelia. “Her magic is from a talisman infused with the power of a god—one of the most powerful types of magic there is. And one of yours is, too.”

  “The sceptre?” I gaped at her. “The power of a god? But—it’s from Winter. It belonged to my family.”

  “Yes, it did,” said the old witch. “However, the gods’ magic was similar to the Sidhe’s. Similar enough that very few people suspect it may reside inside some of their talismans… though yours is a special case.”

  My body froze. How can they know?

  Because the forest saw everything. It’d been responsible for the vision I’d seen, and the witches knew more about the Sidhe than any human I’d met. Maybe even Ivy.

  “You’re saying my talisman’s magic—isn’t from Winter at all?”

  “I think that’s the least of your concerns, Raine,” said the witch. “It’s risky taking the power into yourself, as you did. It can still be torn out of you.”

  I stared at her, unable to find words. She couldn’t know that. Even I hadn’t, when I’d claimed the talisman. I couldn’t bring myself to look at Cedar, either.

  “I am not your enemy, Raine,” said Cordelia. “Would it shock you to know we fought and killed the Sidhe who attacked this realm? We know your magic. It nearly destroyed us. Now we have such defences set up that it can never be used against us again. But we bear you no ill will. Your ancestors’ crimes are not your own.”

  I licked my dry lips. “So why… are you like that?”

  “A curse, young half-blood. Our blood is cursed, our spirits bound to this forest as long as we exist, longer than our natural lifespans.” She gave me a grim smile. “As to the source of our knowledge, the forest is infused with magic, warped by the curse. It reads the experiences and memories of everyone who comes nearby.”

  “I met a faerie with similar magic once,” I admitted. “But—what does this have to do with my father? He’s human.”

  “He’s not human.”

  My heart missed a beat. “No. He is. I’m half-blood. You called me that.”

  “Half-blood or three quarters, it’s all the same to the Sidhe,” said Cordelia. “You might be mortal still, but your father carries the blood of a powerful line of faeries, from the Summer Court.”

  I took a step back. “No. You’re mistaken.”

  “The forest doesn’t lie,” said Cordelia. “Your father believed he was human when he came to this realm, but he wasn’t always. We saw memories he’d forgotten… memories of the Sidhe.”

  Dad was half-Sidhe. Which meant…

  My mother doctored his memories to turn him into the person he is now. He never was totally human.

  “You’re wrong,” I said. “If he had faerie blood, she wouldn’t have damaged him. She wouldn’t have taken his memories—”

  “Invocations can work as well on faeries as humans. As can your magic. You should know.”

  “No.” Could I believe my mother had cursed my father into thinking he was human? She was certainly capable of it. But I’d known him my whole life—I’d spent twenty years with him as a human.

  I’d know.

  But I hadn’t known I had magic, though I’d lived with it as long as I’d lived with Dad. And if even he hadn’t been able to remember…

  “Where is he?” I demanded, my voice echoing off the cave walls.

  “He already crossed over to the Summer Court, Raine.”

  “No.” I looked at the other witches, desperately searching for a sign she was lying. “That—no. If it’s true, they’ll kill him. They want me dead.”

  “They don’t kill their own,” said Cordelia. “I highly doubt they know you’re related. His memories awakened when he came here, though he didn’t know what force drove him. With your mother’s return, it was impossible to keep his past concealed forever.”

  It’s a lie. My mind whirled, my head throbbing as though under the weight of the new revelation. I couldn’t stay in this cave a moment longer.

  “So to find him—” Cedar broke off. “The Seelie Court? Are you absolutely sure?”

  “The forest never lies,” said Cordelia. “It tells the truth, however painful it might be.”

  I stepped back, then again, all but sprinting through the cave door. If Dad was in Faerie—the thought alone was absurd. But if it was true—if she’d really stolen him from Summer—then she’d screwed over both Courts. And the Sidhe had never retaliated. She’d been able to get away with what she had because the Sidhe cared so little about us half-faeries, she could murder us in droves and they’d neither know nor care.

  Dad had walked into Faerie—to the one part of Faerie I couldn’t follow him to—and I was utterly powerless.

  Icy magic wrapped around my hands, strengthening my resolve. If I survived this, the Sidhe would face a reckoning for their crimes.

  Chapter 4

  Apparently the witches had wanted to help me get out, because the path changed to a more straightforward one leading out of the forest. I walked apart from Cedar, in cold silence, pursued by memories.

  I vividly remembered the moment I’d realised Dad couldn’t take care of himself anymore. I’d come back from school—back when I’d made an occasional effort to go—to find him huddled alone in the flat, surrounded by pieces of broken glass from shattered mirrors. While I’d been cleaning up the mess, the truth had struck me: this wasn’t the first time I’d had to be the adult. The sinking feeling in my chest had nothing to do with the actual responsibility and everything to do with the fact that I’d taken over as the grown-up without even noticing. I’d just carried on as normal, to keep both of us alive.

  Similarly, no matter how many times the Sidhe had screwed me over, part of me had believed deep down that they were at least in control of what happened in Faerie. My mother had been an anomaly. Except from what I’d heard today, she wasn’t the first. Not by a long shot. It was pretty damn clear the Sidhe weren’t drunk at the wheel—nobody was steering at all. Nobody was coming to save us. And I didn’t have a clue how to keep us all alive this time.

  “Raine,” Cedar said, breaking the silence. “The Little Person’s house is on our right, if you do want to go back.”

  I stopped walking, looking around at the trees. “If we go to Summer to find my father, I’ll be sentenced to death,” I said quietly. “If the witches are lying, now would be a great time for someone to tell me.”

  “I don’t think they were lying, Raine,” said Cedar. “The forest—it knew things I’ve never told anyone. Lady Whitefall—”

  “Stole my dad’s magic,” I said. “It’d have given him away otherwise. But I didn’t inherit anything from him. I got hers instead.” I gave a bitter laugh. “Even if he did remember being part of Summer, why go back there? If he’s really half-blood, he knows what they think of us. And he never told me. That doesn’t suggest he had a choice in the matter.”

  Unless, of course, I’d been abandoned by both parents. But Dad’s personality wouldn’t have changed, right? A cold knot of dread formed in my chest. I’d felt alone for so long—for years—but I never had been. Not as long as we had each other. If the Sidhe truly had taken that away… suddenly the image of their mangled bodies impaled on my magic didn’t seem unreachable after all.

  “Did he know how to defend himself?” asked Cedar.

  “He didn’t,” I said. “But he was also fully human and didn’t have magic. Sidhe’s
blood, has anyone in my life ever told the truth?”

  A rustling noise came from the trees in front. I raised a hand, conjuring up magic in warning. Bright blue light illuminated the path—and a pair of hooves attached to a person trying unsuccessfully to hide in a bush.

  “Denzel?” I narrowed my eyes. “What are you doing here?”

  “I… I was looking for you,” he mumbled. “There are rumours you’re back on half-blood territory. If you have anywhere to hide—you have to go. They’re coming. The Sidhe.”

  I lowered my hand. “What? Why are you telling me this?”

  “Why? You might think you’re too good for us mere mortals, Raine, but you were my friend. I don’t want them to kill you.”

  I extinguished my magical attack. “You finally get it, do you? This isn’t a game. It never was. The Sidhe are ruthless bastards, Denzel, and my dad’s missing. Did he look any different when you saw him? Like—magical?”

  “Now you mention it…” He frowned. “Yeah, he sort of did. He had the look. I know a Summer half-blood when I see one. But he’s human, right?”

  A sharp knife twisted underneath my ribs. I blinked, hard. “Sure. Last time I saw him.”

  Denzel blinked at me. “Wait a second. Why are you soaking wet? You look like you’ve taken a bath in a lake.”

  “The forest,” I said. “I wouldn’t go any further inside. Who told you the Sidhe were coming?”

  “Rumours. You don’t trust me, do you?”

  “No,” I said, figuring honesty was best. “Honestly, though—just keep out of the Sidhe’s way. Oh, and if you see my mother, or hear anyone playing the pan pipes, run like hell.”

  “Pan pipes?” His brow furrowed. “Why those?”

  “Just be careful,” I said. “There are some nasty individuals going around putting half-bloods under hypnosis. If anyone’s acting oddly, they might be under the spell.”

  He looked at me like he thought I’d definitely lost my mind. “Right, right. No more fake talismans.”

  “Definitely not,” I said sharply. “Nor real ones. Just so we’re clear on that.”