There was a shout as the company from New York descended on the Fae court and chaos erupted on all sides. Wolf mates attacked Fae and Fae fought back. Wolf shifters barked and howled, driving the Fae into a tighter cluster, and dragons flew overhead, burning the gathered Fae with volleys of dragonfire. A company of swans flew into the fray, honking and flapping, snapping at the Fae with their beaks, accompanied by a citrine and gold dragon. Rania wanted to cheer.
But Maeve braced her feet against the ground and called an ancient summons. The ground shook and the lightning cracked overhead. A wind whipped around the court, snatching away the sound of music and tearing at clothing, wings and hair. She stood in her heels and called, her command imperious, and the magick answered her, rising from the heath around her in a wave of glowing red. It flowed skyward, engulfing everything and everyone—and every being it surrounded became motionless. When it rose over their heads, the court was so silent and still that the hair stood up on the back of Rania’s neck.
Except for Maeve. She turned and walked toward Rania, her gaze cold. “I know you didn’t come unarmed, traitor,” she said with hostility. “Show me what you have.”
Rania couldn’t deny her. It was as if her body answered Maeve’s will and not her own. She found herself displaying both the kesir with its waved blade and the katar.
Maeve didn’t touch them. “Steel,” she hissed.
Maybe that would help, since the Fae couldn’t wield them... Rania got no further in her thinking before Maeve beckoned to Kade.
He strode to her side immediately, bending his head attentively toward her. “Yes, my queen.”
“We must see an endeavor completed,” she said to him. “You and I must do it together. I’ve already ensured that you won’t be interrupted.”
“Yes, my queen.”
“I want you to choose a knife, then use it to ensure that he—” she pointed to Alasdair “–dies and that he—” she indicated Hadrian “—stays dead this time.” She turned and framed Kade’s face in her hands while he stared at her in adoration. “Then I will ensure that you’re rewarded beyond your wildest dreams.”
Kade smiled. His eyes lit. Rania had no doubt that he would do exactly as bidden. “What about the swan maiden?” he asked.
Maeve smiled at Rania and the sight was chilling. “She’s just learned to feel, Kade. It would be unfair to take that away, just when she’s about to have so very much to mourn.” She walked back to her throne, hips swinging. “It’s a shame about Bryant, but then, he hadn’t been himself lately.” She sat down and gestured to Kade. “Slice them open, gullet to groin,” she commanded. “I want to see some blood.”
There was a sliver of ice in Kade’s heart. Hadrian could feel it. He called to it, hoping he could melt it, just as he’d melted the other two, hoping he could save Alasdair, Rania and himself from Maeve’s wrath.
If only the splinter responded to him in time.
They were toast.
Alasdair figured the effort had been valiant, but Maeve had out-magicked them. They couldn’t exactly fight back, defend themselves, or defeat her when they’d all practically become statues.
It stunk, but there was nothing any of them could do about it.
Kade approached Rania and examined her two blades. After some deliberation, he chose the katar, the short push-dagger. Alasdair was glad in a way that both of Rania’s weapons were fiercely sharp.
“But you took the wrong child,” a woman cried when Kade turned around.
A slender dark-haired woman manifested suddenly in the midst of the Fae court, seemingly appearing out of nothing at all. Alasdair had never seen such a beauty in his life. She lifted her chin, her dark eyes bright with defiance, her dark hair flowing as if she stood in a slight breeze. She confronted Maeve with an audacity he admired, a golden orb cradled in her hands. It was the gem of the hoard, Alasdair guessed, because Maeve leaned forward in outrage.
“Where did you get that?” Maeve demanded. “How dare you touch it!”
“I took it, just as you took the magick within it. I am Yasmina, wise woman of the djinns,” the new arrival said and Alasdair understood how she’d suddenly appeared. She’d been a wisp of smoke before. “You stole my magick, Maeve, and snared it in this orb. I demand its return.”