Exiled Queen (The Thief's Talisman Book 3)

by Emma L. Adams

  She smiled. “Yes. Certain talismans contain a piece of the gods themselves, and that one remained conscious.”

  “I take it these gods aren’t the nice sort.” The Morrigan was a death goddess and even she hadn’t creeped me out as much as the sword did. As the Hemlock witches had told me… my talisman was more than a Sidhe one. Its magic was something else entirely. A force more ancient, and dangerous.

  “No,” she said. “The Sidhe cast them out, after all.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Cast out their gods? Why?”

  “You won’t find many people here who’ll willingly speak of it. It’s ancient history, but the Vale never forgets, nor is their power dulled with time.”

  So talismans thrown into the Vale might stay there for an eternity, and their power would never fade like ordinary ones did.

  But… what did it mean for the sceptre? And for me?

  “It’s not alive,” I said. “I think I’d know if it was.”

  “There’s one way to rid yourself of the burden,” said Lady Whitefall. “Wouldn’t it be simpler to hand the power over to me?”

  “And watch the Courts die?”

  “The Courts have lived long past their time,” she said indifferently. “You haven’t been here as long as I did. The Courts have always been tedious, static. We are not made to live in peace.”

  “Sounds like they earned that peace, if they cast out their gods to do it,” I said. “And you wanted their power? The talismans?”

  The sceptre’s power… damn. Not only could it replace the magic in a regular talisman, it could replace the magic of the gods. Like the sword. Because it was one.

  Viola had said that when my mother had replaced her magic, the connection of our magic gave her a hold over me that went deeper than a vow. I’d done the same to my sister. If I let Lady Whitefall get hold of my power, she could replace the magic of a thousand lesser talismans, and turn their owners into her slaves. There would be no more Seelie Court, and the Unseelie Court as it was would cease to be. Just one Court, hers, a Court of exiles and death. The true Death Court—where its rulers were forever undying.

  That was the power inside me, the power she intended to hijack for her own gains. And if Aspen could use the conduit to do so without me even being present…

  Not on my watch. Not ever.

  I met her eyes. “I’m not handing my power over. It’s mine.”

  Blue light surged to my hands, but didn’t break through the ice. The god—or what was left of it—had apparently chosen me for a reason. Whether it was a good reason or not, I didn’t care. Anything was better than handing her my magic

  “That’s a pity. I hoped we might come to an understanding, daughter, now you know the truth.”

  “Too bad,” I said. “We’re not on the same page, mother, and we never will be. You’re despicable. And I will never forgive you for what you did to the people I care about.”

  “If you mean your father, he’s never suffered at my hands. I removed his memories to protect both of you.”

  “And stealing his magic? What was that in aid of? Aspen’s using him as a human shield. Don’t think I don’t know about it.”

  She frowned. “Your father will not be harmed. I had to put his magic to good use, since the alternative was to allow him to join you against me. Then I’d be forced to remove both of you.”

  “Nobody’s forcing you to do anything,” I spat. “You brought this on yourself. And you still haven’t explained why you kidnapped a half-blood from Summer and made him think he was human by stealing his magic.”

  “I didn’t steal his magic,” said Lady Whitefall. “I sealed it away. Can you imagine how the Courts would have treated a Summer half-blood with a Winter child?”

  “Don’t try to fool me into thinking you were looking out for my best interests,” I snarled. “You violated both of us against our will, and you never do anything but for your own selfish goals. If you loved him, which I sincerely doubt, you’d have left him the hell alone. Thanks to you, I’ve lost both my parents.”

  “Believe it or not, I did care for him,” said Lady Whitefall. “He was nicer as a human, more pliable, as mortal fragility brings. In this form he’s nothing but trouble.”

  Anger scorched me from the inside, yet my magic still couldn’t break down her icy prison. “You hypnotised him, wiped his memory, and turned him into someone else. And me, too. There’s such a thing as allowing the other person the choice.”

  “I allowed you the choice, did I not?”

  I glared at her. “There are no choices for exiles. But you’re not one. You walked away from the Courts willingly. You don’t know shit. And unless Aspen takes the vow off me, I’m going to be forced to kill my own father. I take it that was your idea, too?”

  Her mouth turned down at the corners. “No. I wasn’t aware you were bound to Aspen in such a way. In any case, it’ll be irrelevant when you hand over your magic to me. The binding between the two of you will be undone. It’s better this way.”

  My heart jolted. Hand over your magic. So… when June’s vow to Lady Whitefall had come undone, it hadn’t been because I’d replaced her magic with mine. It’d been because I’d totally obliterated it. Vows didn’t exist independently of magic at all. They were dependent on it.

  If I gave up my magic…

  “Well?” my mother asked, a smile playing on her mouth.

  “I was bound to Aspen when he forced me to act as his entertainment for mortals,” I told her. “No wonder he looks up to you so much. I literally exist because you were twisted enough to decide wanting someone was enough excuse to bulldoze through every life that stood in your way—unless it was just my father’s magic you wanted.”

  She looked at me, her face pinched, and for the first time, looked older than she had before. “You were the end goal. It’s impossible for a Summer and Winter Sidhe to conceive a child together—and almost impossible for a higher Sidhe to have any children at all. There have been very few, in the last several centuries—but half-bloods are a different story. Suppose I were to conceive a child with someone of as strong a Summer bloodline as my own Winter one… then the possibilities would be endless.”

  I stared at her a moment. I’d heard what she’d said, all right, but the words were slow to work their way into my head. “You can’t—what the hell are you talking about? Nobody can inherit more than one kind of magic, not if they’re half-blood. Even if they’re both Winter and Summer. Unless you have a talisman, it isn’t possible.”

  “Correct,” she said. “I made a deal with someone who could have corrected that little mortality problem of ours. Unfortunately, the person in question disappeared before he could fulfil his end of the bargain. When the mortal realm fell under attack by the Vale, the borderlands became incredibly volatile. The other families didn’t know I had a husband and child, you see. If they’d found out, they would have taken you away to get their hands on my treasures. So I did the only thing I could think of—I sent both of you away to the mortal realm as soon as it became clear I would never be able to make you into a true immortal.”

  “Make me into an immortal? That’s not possible.”

  “It isn’t now,” she said, a touch sadly. “You would have been able to join me, a being of both Courts and ruler of everything. You would have been a goddess.”

  “It’s not possible.” Because whatever had made the Sidhe immortal had been destroyed. “If that’s the case, why not bring me back to Faerie later?”

  “The source of immortality went missing at the time of the invasion,” she said. “I was forced to find other means of securing my reign.”

  “The Morrigan.”

  “Yes, daughter. Immortality will be mine. I will break the chains of mortality and rule this realm and others. And if you will not stand at my side, then you will forever be my enemy.”

  I gave her my darkest look. “I’d rather be your enemy than your subject. And I’m glad the talisman chose me.”


  She reached out a hand, grabbing me by the throat. “Then you choose to die, daughter.”

  “You—need me,” I warned, choking as she squeezed tighter. She was going to take my magic by force after all—tear it out of me like she’d done to Lord Hornbeam. And in doing so, the vow compelling me to kill my father would be destroyed.

  All I had to do was hand over my magic.

  “No, daughter, I do not.”

  Darkness encroached on my vision. However badly I wanted to be freed from Aspen’s vow, giving her my magic would cost more lives than it saved. And however easy it seemed just to let go… to give into the pain and let her remove the magic warping my soul…

  I’ll give up the magic on my own terms, or not at all.

  I wrenched myself away from her, power rising to my fingertips—healing magic, restoring my breath. Oh no.

  “But you need me,” said a male voice. Cedar.

  “No!” I gasped. “Get out—”

  If she took his magic, then she’d be able to use it to take down the Courts. With the conduit.

  She threw back her head and laughed. “You’d trade your own life for hers?”

  “Only if you agree to a vow.”

  Cedar.

  No.

  My throat was too raw to speak, and shock roiled through my bones as my magic objected to the near-miss. Cedar approached her, crossing the clearing. He must have searched the territory to find me.

  “Tell me more,” she said. “What kind of deal will you offer me, Cedar Hornbeam?”

  “I will come with you, if you swear not to bring Raine into the Grey Vale, or wherever you plan to attack the Courts and put your plan into action. Leave her and her family and friends alone, including her father, and release her from her vow to Aspen.”

  She gave him a smile. “I’ll see what I can do, Lord Hornbeam.”

  She’s scheming. She might not need my magic in the short term, thanks to the conduit, but she’d come after it eventually. Maybe she’d send someone else, or find another way to trick it out of me. But the only way to keep her promise was for me to give it up to her.

  “Don’t,” I said warningly. “Cedar—”

  Lady Whitefall turned her back on me, took Cedar’s arm, and the two of them vanished.

  Chapter 21

  I stared at the spot where they’d vanished, horror rising in my throat. “Dammit, Cedar.”

  “Raine!” shouted Rose’s voice.

  I spun around, looking for her. Now my mother’s spell had worn off, I saw the paths leading out of the clearing, and the faint fog that suggested we were close to the territory’s edge. Rose approached, carrying Viola over one shoulder. “She won’t wake up.” She looked at me desperately, tears spilling down her face. “I don’t know how to fix her.”

  “It’s not yet too late,” said a male voice. A Little Person emerged from behind a tree. Not Moss Beard, but one of the identical bearded men who lived in the forest. I tensed automatically. Despite knowing the traitors had been arrested by the Unseelie Court, I still didn’t trust him.

  The Little Person looked at Viola’s limp body. “I know how to get your friend back.”

  I glared at him. “Don’t pull that one on me.”

  “You know the person who can help you,” said the Little Person. “The only human who can walk into Death—our Death. She lives in the mortal realm.”

  Wait… “Who, Ivy?”

  “Yes.” He nodded. “If you desire, I will allow you free passage through the rift to speak with her.”

  It’s true. Ivy said she can walk into the Vale… which leads to Death by extension.

  Rose gave him a suspicious look. “Didn’t some of your people get executed for treason?”

  “I’m not going to betray you,” he rasped. “The traitors died, and deservedly so. But if you want to get your friend back, you must act fast.”

  “I’ll go,” I said to Rose. “I can warn the others in the mortal realm while I’m at it, too. When someone messes with Death, it causes a knock-on effect. But you should take her back to the Hornbeams’ place. Keep her safe until I can get her back.”

  Indecision fogged her features, but she nodded. “I—okay. Viola would want me to.” She swallowed, blinking back tears. “I don’t know how long we can hold Lady Whitefall off, if she attacks again.”

  “I think the Courts are her next target,” I said. “I’ll be quick.” I turned to the Little Person. “Let’s go.”

  He withdrew into the trees. I followed, and soon enough, we reached a rift.

  Cold mist swallowed me up, mist clinging to my face and mingling with the tears that freely fell. I’d lost Cedar—after everything, I’d lost him to a vow after all. Maybe he had a plan, but he sure as hell hadn’t told me what it was. But saving Viola… that, I could manage. I hope.

  I appeared on the hillside, and collided with Robin. I caught myself in time, skidding in the wet grass, then carried on walking.

  “Raine!” he called after me.

  “I don’t have time to chat.” I walked faster, but he caught up easily. It was so foggy I could hardly see him, much less where I was going, and drizzle soaked my clothes. “Seriously, Robin, unless you know where Ivy Lane is, I’m not interested.”

  “Ivy Lane?” he echoed.

  “It’s not like I have a phone. I don’t even know her address.” I dug my hands into my pockets and walked faster. “By the way, Lady Whitefall won. If you haven’t worked it out already. I’m here to warn this realm, and then—then I get to choose whether to stay here and hope this realm survives, or walk to my death and possibly cause the apocalypse all on my own.” I was babbling, but it didn’t matter how much he knew. Not now. Nobody could stop her if she truly had conquered death.

  “What?” Robin called after me. “I can call Ivy myself. Please hear me out.”

  I didn’t turn back. “I gave too much of my life to you already. You won’t take any more of it.”

  Despite my speed, he still remained just behind me. “Lady Whitefall has spies everywhere. Your magic—if she’s telling the truth, it’ll mean war if she gets hold of it.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know,” I said.

  “Raine,” he said. “I know what she asked the Morrigan for. She put the Death Goddess’s magic in the conduit.”

  I stopped walking. “What? She can rip out souls?” But… how could that give her immortality? “Or—something else?”

  “The Morrigan’s magic is death,” whispered Robin. “The Morrigan’s very nature allows her to survive death, and she’s reborn when she dies. Like the Sidhe used to. That magic…”

  “Then she’s truly immortal,” I said. I’d guessed as much already, but futility sank its claws in me again.

  “No, she’s only borrowing it,” Robin said. “The conduit’s the source of her power. If you got it away from her—”

  “I’d have to stop her tearing my own magic out first,” I muttered. “Besides, Aspen has the conduit, and he’s got me ensnared in a vow. So I don’t give a fuck if you decide to go and tell her everything, including where I am. She knows she’s won.”

  “I can’t tell her,” he said. “I’m trapped here. Raine…”

  His subdued tone sounded unusually faint. My spine prickled. Something’s wrong. Wait… he was bound to her with a vow, so how could he tell me so much? She couldn’t have freed him.

  As I turned to face him, the fog shifted, but he remained, semi-transparent and hovering above the hillside.

  He was dead. I’d been speaking to a ghost the whole time.

  “How?” I whispered.

  “She knew I was immune to her magic,” Robin said, his eyes downcast. “She found out, and used the Morrigan’s magic on me as a test subject. But—she killed my body to make sure I couldn’t return from death.”

  I just stared, lost for words. He’d done so much to screw my life up, but having your soul ripped out wasn’t a fate I’d ever wish on anyone. It was pointless—cruelly poin
tless to kill him that way. She’d wanted to get to me. No way could Robin have been around her so long without her guessing some of our history.

  “Raine. You’re not responsible for—”

  “Damn fucking right I’m not,” I growled. “This is all on her. And if you’re stuck here—how does it work? Didn’t she kill you in Faerie?”

  “She killed me in the Vale, then pushed me out here so I wouldn’t interfere in her plans. But there—it’s impossible to move on.”

  Of course. Because the dead didn’t truly die in a realm cut off from Death itself.

  “I can find Ivy for you,” he added. “I can move anywhere now.”

  “Of course you can.” I looked past him, squashing any lingering guilt that I was in any way responsible for his predicament. Lady Whitefall might be my mother, but he’d brought this on himself. “Tell her to meet me at the witches’ forest as soon as possible. And,” I added, as he began to fade out, “find Denzel, too. Ask him to meet me at the same forest in half an hour.”

  I was all out of ideas, save for one last, wild scheme. One that might backfire horribly. Desperation was all I had left. I’d keep my magic out of Lady Whitefall’s hands, at any cost.

  I left Robin behind, quickening my pace. It was impossible to tell if the drizzling rain signalled any change from my mother’s interference in Death, or just normal weather. I walked fast, taking every shortcut, and by the time I reached the entrance to the forest, I found Ivy waiting outside.

  “Ghosts are following you this time?” she asked.

  “One ghost. She killed him.” One thing I appreciated about Ivy was that she didn’t waste time with pleasantries. I got to the point quickly, summarising everything she didn’t already know.

  “The Morrigan?” Her eyes widened. “Impossible. Not again. The Courts bound her.”

  “From what I can figure out, Lady Whitefall gave her a specific set of instructions. The Morrigan left the chains, went to do some small job for her, then flew right back and tied herself up again. She was also forbidden from clawing anyone’s soul out afterwards.”