It’s true. I know by instinct that the summer fire in my blood would strike at the winter chill in hers. I can’t even touch her—not with Awakened sleeper-princess power. No. No, no, no, no. I pace before her, freaking out. There has to be a way. We’ve come so far.
“Euphoria! Fight it!” I’ll save you. I’ll find a way.
I have to. She’s my love. My life.
My love…
“Rouen…” Her real name feels strange on my lips—strange but also right. It fits. We fit. Together. “Rouen Rivoche, I love you.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Rouen
My angel I hear you from the heavens
My angel, I dwell in hell
My angel
My white-flame angel
- “Angel,” Euphoria
“Euphoria! Fight it!” Barely, I hear Syl’s voice coming through the haze of agony and pain. How long have I stood here, helpless? Hells and Harrowing, I’ve become the damsel in distress.
Totally emo, Roue.
Fact is, though, right now? I might need a little saving. And if anyone’s going to do it, it might as well my girl. My Syl. Even through the pain, the thought warms me, brings me at least the promise of relief.
“Rouen!”
Now I know it’s serious. She never uses my real name. Her hand passes close to me. The white flame sears into my eyes, my heart. It sears me with fear. If she so much as touches me with that Summer power…
I’ll die, and not only that. I’ll cease to exist, my very soul scorched to cinders.
Why not? Let her touch me. The hearthstone is shattered. In my mind, I feel the slow, crushing collapse—the gates and passages, all the Snickleways to UnderHollow breaking down in the wake of the hearthstone’s demise, the vaults buckling, the castle crumbling as the ley lines are pulled off course from their natural arcs. There will be no way to get home. No way to save my people.
They will slumber, trapped in Winter’s Sleep, in the collapsing darkness. Forever.
I’ve failed.
A failure as a princess.
But Syl… She is anything but a failure. She’s Awakened, a full fair Fae princess in all her bright glory.
She’ll defeat Agravaine, and I will be but nothing more than a casualty.
Ooh, that’s even more emo!
She wants to touch me, to save me. I can see that in her eyes. I want to be with her too, but we are as we are—me, a dark Fae princess, and her, a princess of the fair Fae. Awakened. Burning with white flame that will poison me, kill me, burn me out of existence.
I am not the hearthstone. I could not survive the barest brush of her fingers.
“Syl…” I manage, not caring that the entire world is a raging Dumpster fire. Fiann still playing, and Agravaine is down, but not dead. I have to warn her, have to tell her to kill him.
“Syl…”
She tries to shush me. “Rouen Rivoche, I love you.”
Everything stops.
The world, the Moribund, my heart.
She…loves me?
A dark shadow falls on her. Agravaine!
My heart swells with fear and love. In that moment, my strength returns.
“Syl!” In a Herculean effort, I tear free and throw myself at him, tackling him to the stage. He fights, punching at me with his one good fist, and the blows that come, that rain down on me feel like penance—all I’ve done wrong returning to remind me of old Rouen and all her crimes.
I roll to my back, Agravaine snarling. “Take her,” he snarls. “Take her now.”
His Command laces my bones and blood with obedience, and though I fight, I am exhausted, spent. My body obeys him, dragging me up to stand before her.
The last sleeper-princess.
Syl faces me, shining in an aura of white flame.
If I so much as touch her, I will be killed, consumed…
At least I will die with her.
Take her, Agravaine’s Command sears into my brain. Take her, take her, take her…
I fill myself with all the love I have for her, tears welling in my eyes. Yeah, it’s emo, but here, at the end, I don’t really care.
“Take her now!”
I stand before Syl, and she looks up at me with those storm-grey eyes. A deep breath. I reach out to her, to take her as Agravaine Commands, and to die in her arms.
She remains still, unafraid. “I believe in you too, Rouen.”
And in that moment, the blazing heat between us—the heat that I’ve felt from the very moment we met—ignites, and all the love I feel for her rushes into fire and flame inside me.
I take her…in a kiss.
The first brush of her lips against mine is a balm to my soul, my heart, my body. I’ve wanted this forever. Every part of me wants her, needs her. I fall into her—into her arms, into her kiss, into everything that is Syl.
The white flame washes over me.
“Rouen,” she whispers into our kiss. My body relaxes, all the agony pouring out like liquid from a vessel. I am home. I am with her. No more fighting, no more pain. Just bliss.
The fire intensifies, purifying me inside and out, burning the Moribund and my old self away, ashes falling as our kiss deepens. Her hands are in my hair, mine around her waist. I pull her close, her body blazing-hot against mine.
She is burning me, but I am not consumed.
We blaze and we burn. Together.
Summer and Winter occupying the same space.
Take her, take her, take her! Agravaine’s Command blares in my mind, but our combined heat sweeps through me, firing through my veins like cables of electricity igniting. The Command in my mind glows red-hot and then burns away, and with it burns the Contract—my body, my blood purged in the pure white flame of the sleeper-princess.
And when she finally, gently breaks our kiss, I take what feels like my first real breath, and we stand together, hand in hand.
New Syl and new Rouen.
She steps back from me, holding me at arm’s length. “There, now. No more reason to be emo.”
I cock an eyebrow, trying hard to keep my cool. “There’s always a reason to be emo.” But I crack on the last word. “Syl, I…”
“I know.” She lays a hand on mine. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay—not by a long shot,” a deep growl rumbles from behind her.
Agravaine. He pushes himself to his feet, his arm a raggedy stump up to his shoulder. Blood spurts from beneath the fingers of his good hand as he grips it tight. His face is as white as his hair, blood running from his mouth.
“Do it,” he snarls. I brace, but he throws the Command over his shoulder—at Fiann. “Do it now!”
Fiann hits a shrill note, and black lighting arcs from my violin across the room. It strikes through the students, piercing them through one by one, wrapping them in chain-lightning, linking them all together.
Hell and hue, this is not good. So not good.
The ley lines ignite in fiery blue energy, and Agravaine steps into the column of moonlight. He raises a hand, calling on the power of winter solstice, calling it into him, channeling it through the sorry remains of his Moribund circuitry.
Fiann saws away with bloody fingers at the violin, and as the black lightning strikes through the last student, it comes back to her. She redirects it, lashing it toward Agravaine.
It hits him solid, and he staggers, but the lightning isn’t piercing him. He’s consuming it, consuming all the energy from the students infected by his Moribund. One by one, they begin collapsing like broken marionettes.
He’s blowing their circuits—igniting the Moribund within them and then siphoning it off. He’ll devour their energy and use it to heal his injuries.
His plot with the trolley circle and the Grimmacle might be totally ruined, but if he succeeds in this, he’ll be whole and hale, ready to fight, ready to try again.
“Syl.” I reach for her hand and take it.
“You two,” Agravaine says, laughing as the power p
ours into him. “Wait right there. We have unfinished business.” And the entire gym lights up as the power rushes from the students into him.
Another wave of them topples over. Part by part, circuit by cell, Agravaine is being remade, the Moribund circuits on the stage leaping into his body, stitching him back together like some horrid dark contrivance.
Crap, crap, crap, crap, crap. I tug Syl’s hand, but she stays firm.
She meets my gaze. “I have an idea. Trust me?”
I do. My gaze is steady on hers. But I have to give her a hard time. “You have a plan, princess?”
She shrugs one shoulder. “Fifty percent of a plan.”
I nod sagely. “Good enough for me.”
She takes my hand, and with fifty percent of a plan, we face the end together.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Syl
Don’t piss off the fairies
- Glamma’s Grimm
I really don’t know what-all I intend to do, but I am filled with power, so much it feels like my body will burst with it, burst and burn like a supernova. One thing’s for sure—I’m through denying who I am, what I am.
I’m Syl Skye, fair Fae princess of the Summer Court, and I am ready to kick some serious butt.
I look at Euphoria.
Correction—we are about to kick some serious butt. It’s always been about me and Euphoria. The dark Fae princess and the fair Fae princess. Mortal enemies.
Now we are brought together. In love.
I grab Euphoria’s hand, and that fifty percent of a plan inside my brain blooms into about seventy percent. Ha! Better than nothing.
Instead of racing toward Agravaine, I rush at Fiann.
Fiann’s the key.
She stands on the edge of the stage, her face locked in that crazy Harley Quinn grin. Hoo-boy, I am going to enjoy wiping that off her face. And by wiping it off, I mean smacking it off.
She’s playing and playing, caught up in the gramarye she’s stolen from my girl. It’s dangerous—Fae power—if you don’t know how to control it. Clearly Fiann has zero clue.
She’s one of the Wakeful, she might even be becoming Fae, but right now, she’s nothing more than a pale imitation. An imitation sleeper-princess. A wannabe.
And I am so about to burst her little bubble.
She sees me coming, and even though she’s faestruck by the gramarye, she’s got enough sense to attack. The first slash of the bow sends a lash of black lightning at me. Euphoria and I dodge. The bolt strikes the ice castle, splitting it into a smoking ruin.
It collapses between us, and I duck as Fiann lashes out again. Dark lightning zaps past my head. Whoa. That was waaaay too close. Crouching, I skirt around the destroyed ice castle, but Fiann spots me and lashes out again and again.
I run, barely keeping ahead of the bolts. “Euphoria!”
She meets me on the other side, and as we come together, Fiann lashes out at both of us, indigo bolts shearing through the air. We’re caught.
Instinctively, I throw my hand up…
…and a shield of white flame flares into being.
The black bolts crack off it.
“Use your gramarye!” I urge Euphoria, but she looks at me like I’ve got ten heads.
“I can’t. I’m not powerful enough without my violin.” She ducks against me as Fiann pours on the insane-o villainess act, dark lightning crackling and spitting off my shield.
If we step one foot wrong, we’ll get fried for sure. I nudge Euphoria. “You’ve got to. We have no other choice.”
“This is your fifty-percent plan, princess?” She cocks an eyebrow at me as we’re washed in the sinister light of indigo electricity.
“Yup.” I pour all my power into my shield. “It’s your turn to Awaken.”
She gives me the stink eye. “I’m no sleeper-princess. I can’t Awaken.”
“I know. I’m just trying to get you to”—and now I know how she felt standing on that skyscraper with me denying all my powers, all my potential—“to use your power in a way you haven’t yet.” Like her, I know my girl has it in her. I’ve just gotta show her.
Another lesson of tough love.
But this time I’m the teacher.
I shove her out from behind the shield.
“Syl!” She glares. “That’s it! We’re breaking u—”
Too late! Fiann looses a zap of black lightning at her.
Euphoria instinctively throws a hand up, and she absorbs it. She absorbs it! After all, it’s her power Fiann’s using.
I whoop and do a little happy dance.
Euphoria takes just enough time to give me a dirty look, and then she strides forward, absorbing every single one of Fiann’s blasts. She’s so badass, but she is weak from being drained by the Moribund.
And Fiann is all caught up in her stolen power, crazed and faestruck.
Euphoria gets three steps from her, but the barrage of lightning keeps her at bay.
It’s time to do this together.
I step out from behind my shield, waving it away into white smoke, and come to stand shoulder to shoulder with Euphoria. “Ready?”
She looks aside at me. “Always.”
“So, you’re not breaking up with me?” I ask cheekily.
She smirks. “We’ll see, princess.”
A simple gesture, and I send a sheet of white flame at Fiann, melding it with Euphoria’s as she sends a bolt of violet lightning lashing from her hand.
Our combined power—dark Fae/fair Fae—strikes Fiann, cutting through her own lightning, and taking her down to her knees. That Joker grin of hers turns ugly, and just like Agravaine, I know she’s going to resort to some TV movie villain threat.
“You’ll never win!” She grits her teeth, blood pouring from her torn-up fingers.
I don’t even justify that with a comeback. I just step in and punch her in the face. She goes down like a ton of bricks, dropping Euphoria’s violin, and I shake out my hand with a sigh. “Shut up already.”
And then I scoop up the violin and thrust it into Euphoria’s hands. All around us the students are collapsing, their life-forces sucked away into Agravaine. He is seconds from reviving, his Moribund spikes growing, growing, sweeping in to pierce us.
Maybe I should’ve paid more attention to him. But, in my defense, it was only fifty percent of a plan.
Time for the rest of it. I look at Euphoria, and she gets me. She knows what I mean to do.
Like the pro she is, Euphoria hoists the violin, and with the first stroke of her bow, she sends violet lightning scorching through the air. I lend my white-flame power to it.
We don’t target Agravaine.
We target the kids.
The bands of violet and pure white flame strike the students, piercing through them just as Fiann’s gramarye did, but this time, instead of draining them, the power burns away the circuitry, purifying them, stopping the energy transfer to Agravaine.
He howls from his place in the moonlight, and Euphoria and I both turn as one, unleashing our combined might on him. We strike Agravaine, white flame and violet lightning piercing him, and the stolen energy bleeds out of him, his Moribund circuitry melting like black butter.
Pulling back on our power, we reverse the stream, pulling out of him and back into the students. Giving them back their stolen life-force, purging them, reviving them.
Fiann screams from where she lies on the stage, the pain finally reaching her now that the gramarye has let her go. A pang of sympathy strikes me, but I need my head in the game.
Agravaine steps from the light.
He raises his hand, the Moribund dripping off him, melting as he comes.
“I will kill you!” He lunges at me, wild, savage.
I try to step back, but he’s quicker.
He grabs me.
And then he begins to burn.
There’s no big moment, no time for a witty retort or taunt. One minute, he’s got me in his grasp, and the next, he’s on fire, the white
flame leaping from me to him, purging him, purifying him.
Now is not a good time to be made of Moribund.
He snarls, gritting his teeth, his leather jacket rippling like he’s caught in a high wind. He tries to push through my power, the Moribund staring to rebuild even as it’s eaten away.
I pour on the white flame, wrestling with him, his fingers gripping my throat. I hear Euphoria cry out my name. And then the white flame flares over him, igniting his clothing, his skin, his hair.
In a flash, he’s burnt black—a crispy critter. I break away from him, and he collapses into ashes. I want to say I regret him dying, but seriously? He enslaved Euphoria, attacked my mom, nearly killed me. Jerk had it coming.
I brush the remnants of him off Euphoria’s jacket. “Guy really knows how to make an exit.”
Euphoria checks me over and then walks over to the fire alarm. “Time to make our exit.” She pulls it.
The blaring wail seems to wake everyone up. Just like that, the lights come up, students pick themselves up off the floor. No one notices us, cloaked by my Glamoury. They won’t remember us passing through them; they won’t remember us being here. I don’t know how I know, but I do.
It’s a shame that tomorrow I will go back to being ordinary Syl Skye.
I take Euphoria’s hand in mine.
But no. Nothing could ever make me ordinary again. My white-flame power coils in my chest, warm, waiting for me to call on it again. I am Awakened.
I snatch the Winter Queen crown off the podium right before Fiann’s eyes and put it on my girl’s head.
She cocks an eyebrow and adjusts it. “What’s this for?”
“You’re my princess now.”
“Oh really?”
“Well, I did finally catch you.”
Her smile lights up the room. “So you did.” And right there on the stage, in the midst of the destruction that was our Winter Formal, she grabs me around the waist and pulls me in. “And I’ve caught you back.”
“So you did.”
She kisses me under the archway, and the world goes away.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Syl & Rouen
“Syl!” my mom calls as the nurse wheels her across the blinding white hospital lobby toward me and Euphoria. The wheelchair makes Mom look small, but the fierce look in her eyes is back. She’s chopped most of her long red hair off—too much bed-head from being in a coma for weeks and weeks, she said—and she looks pixie-ish and mischievous.
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