Dear Shalini,
We have succeeded in locating Modron, and our soldiers are returning with her as we speak. In the meantime, we have been working hard to keep every family fed and clothed through the cursed frost. This terrible tragedy that has befallen our kingdom is not an accident of nature, but the scourge of the demons’ evil curse. We ask that you not blame King Torin for his absence in this time of need. We have only one true source of blame, and it’s the demons who have haunted and tormented us for centuries.
While we wait for the arrival of Modron, we request the presence of all members of the court in the throne room tomorrow night at dusk so that we may discuss our current situation and discover how to work together.
It was signed by Moria and Orla. My stomach twisted, heart hammering.
I wasn’t sure I was ready to find out what had happened to Ava, and I knew I didn’t trust Moria to get to the truth.
Deep in my bones, I knew Ava was in trouble.
With a pang of regret, I realized I almost wanted to stay in the safe cocoon of ignorance with Aeron for just a little longer.
21
AVA
“In Faerie, I will freeze anyone that I love, Ava. I will kill anyone that I love. That’s what Queen Mab cursed me with. And that’s why you can’t come with me, my changeling.”
My eyes snapped open, and cold grief spread through my chest. I still lay on the roots in the dungeon, flat down on my front. Once again, my back was ripped open. I don’t think I’d slept for longer than twenty minutes in…however long I’d been in here.
Every time I fell asleep, I saw Torin again, as if he were alive before me.
I don’t want to be without you any more than I have to.
I turned my head, looking up. Faint silver light pierced the canopy high above me.
This was a different cell than the one I’d been put in before, the one where Torin had carved through a wall. There was less light, and it was more cramped. My gaze trailed over the five bowls of food someone had delivered to me. They were feeding me this time, but I hadn’t bothered to eat.
I had no appetite whatsoever, either because of the infection or because I’d killed the man I loved. Torin. The memory of it was like a thousand rocks pressing on my chest, crushing my ribs.
My normal life seemed a million years away. I could hardly remember what Faerie looked like, let alone the apartment I’d shared with Andrew.
The human world seemed a distant gray dream, vague and unreal. I faintly remembered a room with white walls, and a kitchen downstairs. A blue comforter. The bar I’d gone to with Shalini every week…
It felt like another planet altogether.
My memories of Faerie were a little more vibrant—the towering dark castle, the snowy valleys, and the mountains. But it hurt to think about it. Mostly, I thought of Torin.
The Seelie king and the four cramped walls around me were my universe right now.
Wincing, I reached behind my back. The skin felt hot and swollen. Infected again. I sat up, and my thoughts swam, my stomach tightening with nausea. Every inch of me felt sensitive to the touch, my body alternating between hot and cold.
I closed my eyes, delirious. My brain kept forcing me to relive those moments with the red leaves swirling around us and the vines that seemed alive snaking over the columns.
For a moment when we’d been fighting, I’d imagined the leaves and vines were responding to me, but I must have imagined it. I was disoriented by pain and fever, losing touch with what was real and what wasn’t.
The sound of the lock shifting pulled my attention up, and the door groaned open. Morgant’s enormous frame filled the doorway. If I’d had the energy and the strength, I would have attacked him, except I wasn‘t sure I could stand. Warm light beamed into the room from the torches in the hallway. Morgant frowned at the food on the floor.
“Why aren’t you eating?”
I wasn’t giving him the satisfaction of answering, so I simply stared back at him.
“Are you trying to die in here?” he asked sharply. “Because in Mab’s kingdom, the Empress of the Dark Cromm has the privilege of choosing when her prisoners live and when they die. And she chooses how they die.”
I cocked my head, keeping my mouth shut.
He sniffed the air. “Something smells rotten.”
I gave him a grim smile. “Well, Morgant, that would be me. I do realize that thinking isn’t your greatest strength and you probably don’t have more than two brain cells to rub together, but when you lock someone in a tiny cell for several days at a time, they will start to reek. And you know what, Morgant? I really don’t give a fuck.”