Exiled Queen (The Thief's Talisman Book 3)

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Exiled Queen (The Thief's Talisman Book 3) Page 17

by Emma L. Adams


  This time, Aspen sat on the Morrigan’s throne, Viola at his feet. I heard Rose gasp behind me.

  Aspen yanked me forward without a word, the vow working its magic. I spat out a curse, but my legs continued to move of their own accord, carrying me towards the throne. In front were the Morrigan’s iron chains, lying in a heap between me and Aspen. Broken or not, the iron instantly dampened my magic. He’d put them between us like a shield.

  “You?” I said, injecting as much derision into the word as possible. “You think you’re a good replacement for a terrifying death goddess? I’ve seen trees that are more frightening than you are. You’re nothing.”

  “I’m a future king,” said Aspen. “I like this throne, but I think I’d like the Seelie Court better.”

  “What’re you skulking around in the Death Kingdom for, then?” I glared at him, hoping he kept watching me—I might not be able to move, but Rose and Cedar could. “Is she sending you between thrones while she fights the real battles—or does she not trust you to handle anything else? Looks to me like she forgot about you.” He wasn’t the one calling the shots, unless my mother truly had entrusted him with everything, which I doubted. No—she’d never have told him the full extent of her plan. At least there were no signs of my father. Which meant he wasn’t shielded.

  Aspen needed to die. I’d take away his magic for good, like I’d done with my sister. And by doing that… maybe I can undo that vow.

  He smirked. “Don’t bother.”

  A transparent shape rose behind him, the shadowy form of a wraith smothered in blue magic.

  “The dead don’t rest easily here,” he said softly. “I think I’ll kill you first, brother. I have to admit, I never thought Lady Hornbeam’s pet thief would be the one to try to take her crown.”

  The wraith roared, and icy magic slammed into me and Cedar. I stayed on my feet, but Cedar hit the wall, his body freezing. The wraith’s blurred hands rose, and a second torrent of power aimed at Cedar.

  I jumped into the way, and Cedar swore as I took the attack head-on. Pain racked up my spine, vanishing almost immediately as he transferred his healing power over to me. We moved forward as one, both calling on magic at the same time. Blue light came from my hands, green from Cedar’s, and collided with the wraith in mid-air. Screeching, it exploded into smoke and ashes.

  “So it’s true,” Aspen said. “I did wonder what I saw when you healed her, brother, but those traitorous Sidhe drove me away before I could be sure. Lady Whitefall’s going to be very interested to know the power she seeks is in the blood of a weak half-blood—my brother, no less.”

  “You’re no brother of mine,” Cedar said, deadly quiet.

  Oh Sidhe’s blood. I should have told him. I shouldn’t have assumed Aspen wouldn’t have noticed. Cedar. I didn’t want to see the betrayal on his face when it dawned on him I’d guessed what he hadn’t… the enemy needed both of us—or our magic—to complete her plan.

  Aspen rose to his feet. “Give me the power, brother, or your girlfriend dies.”

  I lunged forwards, but the vow slammed me to my knees before him. Another wraith rose where the first had died, icy magic streaming from its hands.

  Cedar intercepted its attack, and cold Winter magic swamped him, freezing him in place. Aspen laughed at both of us, then snarled when Cedar broke free from the magic.

  Winter magic slammed into me, and I tasted blood as my head struck the cold floor. Gasping for breath, I lifted my head, struggling to move.

  Warm healing magic rushed to my fingertips—from my own hands—soothing my bruised bones and broken skin. Cedar gave me his magic. That meant I could do the same to him.

  I pushed to my knees and met Cedar’s gaze. I’d been pretty clear about not letting anyone use my magic again, but this was different.

  Use my magic. Knock him off his damn throne.

  My magic exploded outwards from Cedar’s hands, striking the wraith in the chest. With a screech, it exploded into fragments, leaving Aspen wide open.

  I struggled to my knees and the vow pushed me down almost immediately. I pushed back, calling on Cedar’s healing magic to numb the pain. Fresh agony shot through my bones as I resisted, but the healing ability repelled the vow’s magic. I climbed to my feet and grinned at Aspen. He couldn’t use the vow to knock me down when I had two people’s magic at once pushing against him. Take him out, magic. Destroy his power and the vow along with it.

  I stumbled towards the throne, and he held up the pan pipes. With a laugh, he tossed them from one hand to the other. “The dead themselves dance to my tune. As does she. But she’s a little absent at the moment.” He gave a dismissive glance downward.

  Viola.

  She rose at his command, stiffly. Her body moved, but her eyes were blank. Not the sort of blankness of someone who’d fallen under a vow, but worse. No life shone in her eyes, and cold emptiness filled her pale grey gaze. She was…

  “Dead,” he said, with a laugh. “Her spirit left her body, at any rate, but her heart’s still beating. I debated finishing the job, but I thought it’d be fun to play with her for a bit.”

  Bile burned my throat. “You sick bastard.”

  “Bastard I might be, but I’m here on a throne, and you’re in the dirt. Your servant is gone.”

  Rose made a choked noise from behind us. She’d been pushed back against the wall during our fight, her magic powerless against the dead.

  My knees hit the floor and Aspen laughed at me again. Viola wasn’t dead. Her body lived—and without the Morrigan, she couldn’t move on. That’d buy us time, if it was even possible to bring her back. We were in Death’s own kingdom, but for all my magic, nobody could cheat death. Except my mother, apparently.

  “Kneel before me, Raine,” Aspen crowed.

  I snarled, pushing magic at him, but met a wall of iron. Those blasted chains. Even my talisman’s magic couldn’t outdo iron.

  “You can’t rely on iron,” Cedar told him. “It’ll poison you, too.”

  Footsteps came from behind us. Cedar’s magic lessened the pain in my knees, and I straightened up.

  Aspen’s eyes narrowed at the person behind me. “You’re on their side now?”

  I risked a quick glance, not expecting to find June standing defiantly beside Cedar.

  “No,” said June, jerking her head in my direction. “She vow-bound me. But I’m still loyal, and I came here to remind you of your true purpose. Stop playing games with these people. Lady Whitefall is counting on you for a lot of reasons.”

  “Yes, including getting the power off my dear brother—”

  The vow loosened as his attention slipped, and I moved. Fast. I threw myself at the throne, kicking the iron chains into the air with the edge of my boot. The iron rose, smacking him in the face.

  Aspen screamed in pain, momentarily stunned, and I tackled him off the throne, conjuring gloves to my hands and grabbing the chain. It burned me through the gloves, but I didn’t care. Cedar shouted at me, words I couldn’t hear. The iron scorched a sharp line down Aspen’s face to match Cedar’s own scar, and he roared in pain again.

  A flock of birds flew over my head, along with a current of air that knocked me flat. I landed on my side, rolling to my feet. Aspen twitched at my feet, moaning.

  And the Morrigan herself sat in the entryway.

  “Are you fighting over my throne?” she croaked, looking around. June stood frozen near the door. Rose crouched over Viola’s motionless body. Cedar stood apart, ready to leap in and help me fight Aspen. I looked for Lady Whitefall, but she wasn’t there. Just the Morrigan, a hulking bird-shaped shadow.

  “We’re deposing this prick,” I said loudly. “He took your throne. I didn’t think you’d like that.”

  “Lying does you no favours, mortal,” said the Morrigan. “I can rip out your soul, like I did to her.”

  “Her? Lady Whitefall?” My heart skipped a beat.

  “Not her. The girl.”

  Viola. So that’s how


  “Can you put it back?” I asked desperately.

  “Not when the soul is lost.” The Morrigan shuffled into the cave. She was in her more human-like form, but somehow looked younger than last time I’d seen her. Her face was wrinkle-free, her hair glossy black, but her eyes were ancient as the sun, dark and terrifying. Cold fear traced down my spine and I looked away to avoid falling under her magic’s thrall.

  “She’s not dead,” I said to the Morrigan—everyone else seemed to be too terrified to speak. “Her spirit hasn’t gone far. You know. Right?”

  She laughed. “There is one who can retrieve it, who can walk between the spirit realm and here. Otherwise, unfortunately, your friend is lost. I rather think that’s the last of your concerns, mortal.”

  “Are you here to kill us?” My heart raced. Viola. Who could bring back someone whose spirit was gone? And why had the Queen of the Death Kingdom come back herself?

  “No,” said the Morrigan. “You have no interest for me. I’m here to reclaim my throne.”

  I stared at her. “But—does Lady Whitefall not want it? I thought you’d joined her, or she’d captured you.”

  “Captured?” she laughed. “Nobody can capture me, fool. The Sidhe saw to that. But I can be temporarily freed… under the right circumstances. I have no desire to help the Sidhe dig themselves out of the latest mess they have created. In the end, only I will remain, eternal.”

  “What did she ask you for, then?”

  Instead of answering, the Morrigan prowled over to the iron chains, lifting them in a claw-like hand. Instantly, her face wrinkled and her body hunched up as the iron’s effect came on. Yet it didn’t kill her, like it would us, despite the magic shining in her primal gaze. She was another creature entirely.

  “You’re taking the chains back? Why?”

  Again, she didn’t respond, looking down at Aspen instead. He groaned quietly in pain. “This is the one she had guarding her throne?”

  “You can tear his soul out,” I said. “I thought you ate souls.”

  “Unfortunately, it goes against my orders,” she said. “Lady Whitefall compelled me not to sever another soul before I put the chains on again. In case I decided to destroy her forces, I suppose.”

  “Damn, she covers her tracks well.” She must have used a specific vow to get exactly the right amount of help from the Morrigan, then dismissed her without allowing her to go free.

  “That she does,” said Lady Whitefall from behind me.

  I froze. So did everyone else, except the Morrigan, who tilted her head on one side as though fascinated to watch the carnage unfold. Lady Whitefall was there, clad in battle armour, cold and resplendent.

  “What are you doing, Aspen?” she said sharply. “And—you. I knew you’d interfere, daughter.”

  Aspen moaned, “She attacked me.”

  “He deserved it,” I told her.

  “What a waste. Heal him,” she ordered Cedar.

  “I’m not yours to command.”

  My breath stuck in my throat. I didn’t dare move. She stood too close to Cedar, and the knife in her hand was the one she’d nearly killed me with when I’d been in the Vale. The real thing this time, not a fake.

  She turned to Cedar, eyeing him coldly. “You will be, or you’ll be dead. Morrigan?”

  The ancient faerie gave a coughing laugh. “I’d rather not bring the forces of death on your tail, Lady Whitefall. I gave you what you asked for.”

  For a heartbeat, I expected the two goddesses to erupt into battle. But Lady Whitefall herself laughed. “Yes, of course you did. Those Court bindings are certainly an inconvenience.”

  There was a snapping noise as the iron chains repaired themselves around the Morrigan’s clawed hands. I’d never seen iron obey magic before, but it was clear that what contained the Morrigan was no ordinary spell. It felt almost like a spell from the mortal realm, but a thousand times stronger. She’d fought on the wrong side in the last war, so the Courts had taken pains to stop the same from happening again. Someone needed to warn them she’d been freed—assuming my mother wasn’t about to storm on the Courts now. But again… nobody was coming to help us.

  “Aspen, June, you can leave,” said Lady Whitefall. “I wish to speak with you alone, daughter. Let’s put an end to this childish game.”

  “I’m not the one screwing around in the Death Kingdom,” I told her. “We’ll meet on my terms, not in the Vale.”

  “Very well.” Lady Whitefall smiled broadly, beckoning me to follow. I glanced around, hoping at least the Morrigan’s flock of giant crows might help us, but it was hopeless. She had no stake in this fight. The Sidhe had bound her, and she didn’t give a crap about the rest of us.

  Cedar gave a slight nod, indicating he was about to follow us. I wouldn’t get a better shot at Lady Whitefall than this. As she beckoned me to follow, I ran after her, out of the Morrigan’s cave.

  The instant I reached the threshold, the world warped around us, and ice froze my limbs into place.

  “Now,” she said softly. “Tell me about the talisman’s magic.”

  Chapter 20

  Ice crept up my arms, pinning them to my sides. We stood in an unmarked clearing between snowy trees, one I didn’t recognise, and my friends were nowhere in sight. Nor were Aspen or June. She’d moved us somehow, trapping me in her magic. For the first time, a spasm of fear shook me, faced with her raw power. I’d been afraid around her before—for my own life, and my friends’—but I’d never been hit with the same blast of pure terror the other Sidhe projected. Because she hadn’t used it against me.

  Apparently, her patience with me had snapped.

  I held my breath, refusing to speak. I didn’t know what she wanted me to say, but if she questioned Aspen, she’d know what Cedar and I could do.

  You don’t deserve my fear.

  “Well?” she said. “What can you tell me?”

  I licked my dry lips. “The talisman took less than five seconds to choose me over you,” I told her.

  Her mouth curved down at the corners. “That’s not what I meant, daughter, and you know it.”

  “No, I’m afraid I don’t. If you want the magic, you can duel me for it. Unless you’re afraid you’ll lose, or having second thoughts about finishing me off after all.”

  “Oh, I don’t need you,” she said. “I merely wanted to know the nature of your connection with your friend’s magic. The limits. Whether I’ll need both of you, or just one.”

  “For what? You have all the power you need without either of us.”

  “You’re too dangerous to leave unchecked,” she said. “Your power is mine, one way or another. You gave it to me yourself.”

  I twitched my hand, willing the ice to melt. Nothing happened. “What?” Did she mean June? I had given her my power, after all. Part of it. Like Viola. But that wasn’t the same as the magic I possessed myself, because she could still use magic independent of me.

  “The magic you use is somewhat volatile,” said Lady Whitefall. “It destroys all other magic it comes into contact with. Enough traces remained in the sceptre before I gave it you back, Raine, for me to test it through my useful new tool, in conjunction with some other magic inside it. But I can’t wait to see what you can do by yourself. You… and Cedar.”

  My blood froze. The conduit… somehow, it’d been my magic which had caused the explosion, when put together with some other Summer power.

  My mother had found a way of using my magic by proxy, putting it into the conduit and then using it, rather than making me do so. The power was raw and uncontained and had nearly destroyed me when I’d used it in its wilder form to kill Lady Hornbeam. But I thought there was nothing in the sceptre left.

  “You’re lying,” I whispered.

  “I think we both know I’m not, daughter,” she said. “What’s interesting to me is that the sceptre’s power’s equal belongs to a Summer faerie. Don’t look so alarmed. I haven’t harmed him.”

  Cedar.
“Leave him out of this.”

  “Not until I find out how it’s possible.” She tilted her head. “Aren’t you curious where I got the sceptre from in the first place?”

  “The Vale. Everyone knows.”

  “Do they really?” Her mouth twisted. “And did you not think it odd that the talisman was legendary in the Courts, who possess power enough to rule a world? That there were many who’d kill to possess it, even here where murder is forbidden?”

  “No. You people have been killing one another for centuries. None of this is news.”

  “Oh, but it is.” She smiled. “Daughter, I only possessed the talisman for a short while before you found it, but immediately knew it for more than a regular magical artefact. Normally there are written records, but that particular talisman… none. It wasn’t even a legend—there were no records of it at all.”

  “So? Is that what this is about? You want to be the villain in all the scary stories they tell to children in Faerie?”

  Rather than answering, she looked at me pityingly. “There are certain talismans,” she said, “which contain… let’s call it less than conventional magic. All magic belongs to one of the two types.”

  My heart beat faster. Shit. She’s way ahead of us.

  “Everyone knows that,” I said. “Summer or Winter. It’s basic stuff.”

  “Not Summer or Winter,” she said. “Life or death. Beginning or ending. All are two sides of the same coin, and one and the same. The seasons chosen by their respective territories are nothing more than an attempt to maximise their power. Summer is where life thrives, and winter where it lies dormant, cold, dead.”

  “Your point is?” But I knew. The witches had told me enough.

  “Some talismans have power that belongs to neither Court.” A smile played on her mouth. “I heard of them a long while ago. During my trips to the Grey Vale, I made a point of seeking them out.”

  So that’s why she had the entrance to the Grey Vale. Not to build a secret Court, but to search for those talismans.

  “The sword,” I said. “You found it in the Vale, right? That’s why it seemed like it was… alive.”

 

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