Smolder (Crown of Fae #3) - Sharon Ashwood Page 0,7

broke her paralysis. She sprang to Elodie’s side. Her friend’s face had gone a bloodless gray. When Leena clasped her hand, the skin was clammy and chill.

“Come back, Elodie,” she whispered, her throat aching with panicked tears. “Think of your little one. Think of Riya.”

Elodie’s eyelids fluttered, but rather than waking, Leena felt her friend’s spirit sinking out of reach. A tremor shook the other fae’s body. Within seconds, Elodie’s teeth chattered, back arching as the seizure pulled her from the floor with bone-cracking force.

Terror ripped through Leena. She needed to heal her friend, but her own power was almost exhausted. Leena ended the spell that fed the Flame, working too quickly for any kind of finesse. Abruptly, the Flame’s power catapulted free. The wrench of it made Leena reel, her vision lost in a burst of light.

The fire around them vanished, leaving the room ominously dark and silent. Only the torches along the walls shed light. The air seemed empty, devoid of warmth and comfort. Leena lifted her head, peering through the veil of her hair. Some healers could hear the Flame whisper the secret of a cure, but Leena had no such talents. Her skills lay with the dance alone.

Beneath Leena’s hand, Elodie lay quiet. The shaking had stopped, but her pulse was fading.

Lord Dorth sprang to his feet and began to applaud, his round face beaming. “Spectacular finish! Such drama!”

There was a faint rustle as all heads turned his way, but no one spoke. His claps trailed off as his face fell in confusion. A moment later, he sat, face scarlet with embarrassment.

Juradoc had fallen to one knee, his black robes pooled around him. His gaze stung like twin points of ice. With crawling apprehension, she realized the backlash of the Flame’s release had hit him, too.

“No one gave you permission to stop.” The Shade rose after a long, terrible pause. “The promise was almost fulfilled.”

Dorth had promised fae power to eat, but the words implied more. What was it? What drove the Shades to destroy everything in their path?

Leena rose, unsteady but still able to put herself between Juradoc and Elodie’s still form. “Forgive me, my lord, but we could not continue. My friend is unwell.”

Speaking was stupid. She was shaking herself now, certain she’d sealed her doom by slamming a door the Shades couldn’t open by themselves. Only a priestess could call the Flame, and now the Shade doubted her cooperation.

A dangerous mistake.

Juradoc reached out his gloved hand, a ball of green light forming a writhing spiderweb above his palm. Leena’s stomach froze. Such magic had turned Morran’s goblet to dust.

Leena willed her feet to move, but they remained cemented to the spot. Whether it was a Shade curse or simple fear, the result was the same. She couldn’t see Juradoc’s sharp smile, but she sensed it hiding beneath his hood, wickedly cruel.

She wondered if it would hurt to dissolve to ash.

“The wages of disobedience are final,” he said as his weight shifted, ready to hurl the deadly magic.

The high table exploded in a crash of splintering wood. Leena sprang into the air like a startled cat, spinning to face the new threat. Lord Dorth shrieked and dove for safety as food and wine vaulted into the air.

With an angry roar, Morran tossed a platter through the air, scattering figs and sauce. It struck the floor with a loud clang, then bounced and spun on one edge before crashing to a stop. Morran towered over the other diners, a large man made gigantic with rage. Guests scrambled to their feet with cries of alarm, instinctively backing toward the far door.

One of Juradoc’s guards rushed Morran, but the prince grabbed his attacker and hurled him from the dais. The man flew and tumbled as if he weighed no more than a feather pillow. He fell with a thud, limbs flopping as he rolled away.

Leena stared, her pulse racing with fresh alarm. The cold-eyed prince was utterly mad. As if acting out her thoughts, Morran clasped his hands in a double fist above his head, biceps flexing, and smashed what was left of the tabletop. The table’s legs gave way with a deafening crack, and chairs toppled as it fell. A jeweled goblet rolled across the floor, bumping Leena’s foot.

“Seize him,” Juradoc ordered.

The guards hung back. Morran had picked up a carving knife.

Leena shrieked as a hand grasped her shoulder, but her voice was lost in the chaos. She wheeled to find Tovas at her side. He