The Glass Queen (The Forest of Good and Evil #2) - Gena Showalter Page 0,11

again. Though I struggled with everything I had, I couldn’t stop the black spots from spreading through my mind. Like spilled ink on parchment.

To faint in front of this boy... I hadn’t interacted with many people in my lifetime, but I knew to be wary of showing a hint of vulnerability right now. But... I needed help, even if it came from someone like him.

I tried to tell Saxon, “Can’t see. Palace. Return...”

But the darkness took me first.

* * *

Trapped in a void, with no sight or sound. Aware but powerless. Time ceased to hold meaning for me, a minute, hour, or year passing. Until...

A glimmer of light appeared. I kicked and clawed my way toward it—yes! The darkness receded, bit by bit, and I blinked open my eyes. Bright light registered, the world coming back into view. I was lying on the ground, rosebushes, statues, and flames. Heat poured from me, the scent of charred grass heavy. Flames? A thick veil of smoke choked me, and I coughed.

There’d been smoke in the warlock’s chambers, too.

Was Saxon okay? I sat up, my gaze finding Saxon.

A scream of shock and horror barreled from me. He loomed perhaps twenty feet away, his hair singed at the ends, dark rings of smoke around his eyes, nose, and mouth, his clothes littered with burn holes. Even his feathers had been scorched.

I didn’t... I couldn’t... With a baffling amount of energy I’d never before experienced, I scrambled to my feet and stepped toward him, determined to help. “What happened?”

He huffed and puffed his breaths, like a big bad wolf. “You happened.”

“Me? I didn’t... I never... I was unconscious.” I stumbled back, my hand fluttering to my chest. Wait. I paused to peer down. My fingers. The ends were red, and they burned hot enough to singe my dress. Frantic, I shook out both hands, hoping to cool them off.

He took a step toward me, just one, but it contained more ferocity than any sword. “Leave. Now. Before I kill you where you stand. I’ve never harmed a child, even a woman trapped in the body of one, and I don’t wish to start today.”

Kill me? As in murder me? But, that couldn’t be right. “You need to let me help you. You’re hurt.”

“I’m avian. I heal swiftly. Now leave,” he repeated with more force.

“Stay, both of you.” The command came from my father as he stomped around the same wall of foliage I’d navigated, with Roth, Farrah, and Milo behind him. “Someone tell me what has caused such damage. Now.”

The second the Charmaines caught sight of us, concern contorted their features. Roth rushed over, demanding, “Who did this to you both, Saxon?”

“This didn’t happen to us both.” Saxon glowered at me. “This happened to me. The girl is responsible.”

“Liar!” I rarely fell into a temper, but this boy and his animosity pushed me closer and closer to the edge.

“Ashleigh, you worthless girl.” My father believed Saxon over me? “The avian are a proud people, rich in tradition. Harming one of their royals is a terrible insult to all avian, and restitution must now be made.”

A pang almost rent me in two, fueled by sorrow, fear, and anger. “I didn’t hurt him. You have to believe me, Father. I—”

“Enough. Your mother wanted you here, I do not.” He pointed an accusing finger at me, and I withered. “I have tolerated your presence only because of the prophecy and the potential for blessings upon the kingdom, but I have become more and more certain that your role is a minor one. If not a curse altogether. You’re too...you.”

I flinched, as though I’d been punched.

And he wasn’t done. “I’d planned to send you away tomorrow. Now circumstances have changed. You will move to the Temple of Blessed Peace today, where you will live out the rest of your days.”

I gaped at him. He’d planned to send me away before this? He’d expected me to leave the only home I’d ever known, my mother’s home, the day after her funeral? To live at the Temple, a mystical cluster of trees where dryads worshipped nature? A place hours away, even by route of the Enchantian Forest?

“Will this serve as restitution, Prince Saxon?” Father asked the male.

“No,” the avian snapped. “But it will do. For now.”

As everyone in the group glared at me, awaiting my response to the punishment, my world seemed to contract, expand, then contract again, like a pulse inside my brain. Though I would have loved to sprint