“She kept. Fucking. Idiots. For years she only bred boys and we just sent them away. The smarter ones went to the Warlocks of Godomor and the stupider ones, we didn’t care. But then she had Delora,” she said on another long, painful sigh. “As per our laws, we had to keep her. So sad. While our other legacies soared in every subject, for dear, sweet Delora, schooling was nothing but a struggle. Math . . . a struggle. Science . . . a painful struggle. Basic logic . . . nothing! Then, one day, she announced that she had been blessed by the gods and was a seer.”
“Were her predictions right?” Laila asked.
“Mostly. From what we could tell.”
“How did you manage that, I wonder?” Gemma asked, pulling Delora in tighter and pressing her jaw against the top of the witch’s head.
Then . . . slowly . . . Gemma’s expression began to change as realization dawned.
“Were all her predictions . . . royalty based?” the War Monk asked.
The Witch Queen gazed at Gemma for a very long moment before she finally said, “As a matter of fact . . . yes. Yes, they were. Something that the other royals and the Old King truly appreciated.”
Gemma began to laugh and Delora yanked herself away.
“Keeley was always right about her,” Gemma said amidst her laughter. “Beatrix is fucking brilliant.” She put her hands to her head. “She planned all of this!”
“You don’t know that, Gemma,” Keran argued.
“I do know that. I feel it. Not using premonition, either. Just logic. It’s what she’s always wanted.”
“To be queen?”
“To be in power. And she used you two idiots”—Gemma pointed at Delora—“you and the Dowager Queen to get it. And you let her!” she finished on a laugh.
“No offense to you and your family,” the Witch Queen kindly noted, “but none of you have royal blood. We checked both your lines when Delora made her prediction and there’s”—she shrugged—“nothing.”
“Beatrix promised Maila something. And Maila, in turn, promised her something.”
They all focused on Delora and the Witch Queen smiled. “My job. She promised her my job.”
“I should be Witch Queen,” Delora insisted, which got nothing but brutal laughter from her witch sisters.
“But why kill Keeley?” Laila asked over the laughter. “I mean, your sister lives, Gemma, but that was clearly not the plan.”
“I don’t know. To prove Beatrix’s loyalty to Prince Marius?” Gemma studied Delora. “They’d consider Keeley a threat if they thought she might become queen and push the current royal family out. Especially if Beatrix promised she would never do that herself.”
Now they were all studying Delora and saw the panic on her face. The fear. Then, her expression changed. False bravado spread around her like a blanket, and her grin was wide as she looked straight into Gemma’s eyes.
That’s when Gemma told the Witch Queen, “Gods, you’re absolutely right. The bitch has absolutely no logic.”
“None.” The queen tossed up her hands in defeat. “I can forgive a lack of skill with science or math, but ye gads, the lowest animals have common sense. Crows have logic. Rats. But you,” she said to Delora, “nothing but empty space.”
“What are you talking about?” Delora demanded.
Gemma shook her head. “Do you really think my sister will put you on this throne?”
“Especially when she doesn’t plan for there to be any throne,” the queen tossed in.
“What do you mean?”
Leaning forward in her seat, the Witch Queen growled at Delora, “She needs you dead, stupid girl. She needs all of us dead.”
“She can’t risk the truth getting out.”
“I would never tell,” she whispered. “I promised Maila I would never tell.”
“But you’d always know, ya dumb cow!” Keran practically cheered.
“And you’d be able to hold it over her,” Gemma reminded her, “as long as you live.”
“And that, Sister, is something that a future queen cannot have.”
Delora began to debate, attempting to convince herself, Laila assumed, but Gemma’s head lifted and she held up a finger to quiet everyone. Her gaze moved to the high ceiling of the throne room. Everyone fell silent . . . waiting.
Laila’s sensitive ears heard it soon after. The whistling. And she was running back to her brother when Gemma screamed out, “Move!”
* * *
The first fireballs crashed through the ceiling, turning everything around them into flame and destruction.
Gemma pulled a few witches out of the way and stomped out the burning gown of another.
“Go!” she yelled at Samuel. “Get to my sister! Take Keran with