Only when the chains stopped moving against the stones did I slam back into my own mind again, cold horror stealing my breath. A biting wind whipped over me, tearing at my hair.
A fae could survive out here for maybe a week or two, but a human like me? I didn’t think I had long at all.
At least they’d taken the handcuffs off, and I folded into my cloak as much as I could, trying to protect my face and hands under the thick wool.
From a cage above me, I could hear Aeron screaming my name.
33
AVA
The queen held me aloft in thorny coils, my feet dangling inches above the castle’s stones.
With her powerful magic, she’d tightened them around me, binding my arms to my chest. Fear raked its claws through me. The queen’s power was stronger than mine, and I wasn’t sure we’d ever get free of this place. Panic pressed against my ribs.
I whipped my head around, looking for Torin, but I saw no signs of him.
Washed in silver, Queen Mab looked victorious. Her son, Morgant, stood behind her, his muscles and clothes shredded by my prickly vines, blood streaking down his body. His dark wings hung still behind him, and he held Torin’s sword. His amber eyes locked on me, his chin lowered.
The night wind toyed with the queen’s hair as I struggled against her cage of brambles. My breath heaved in my lungs as the queen prowled closer.
“I was trying to tell you something, Isavell, but you ripped the floor out from under us.”
“That’s my name, then, is it?”
As she drew near, I could see that she wasn’t feeling quite as victorious as I’d first thought. She held her chin high and her back straight, but her mouth was tight with tension. And close up, I could see the tightness of her hunched shoulders.
The queen was scared. But what was she afraid of? My gaze flicked to Morgant, and I read in him the same rigid posture, fists clenched and veins popping on his forearms.
“Before I throw you from the tower, you must know what happened.” Her voice faltered a little. Was she scared of me?
The corner of her mouth twitched. “We were supposed to bring our families and discuss a future alliance. Torin’s mother proposed an engagement between our heirs. I’d always wanted my Unseelie heirs on the throne of Faerie. Of course, I accepted,” she said sharply, like I was reprimanding her for her decision. “But then they asked me to remove the frostbitten curse from the kingdom.” She bared her teeth. “It wasn’t my curse to remove. That was Modron, the one who looks back. She’s the one who loathes the Seelie.”
“What are you talking about?”
“No one wanted her around,” Queen Mab said, ignoring my question. “Can you blame them? The woman was a poison, spilling everyone’s secrets. Long ago, the king banished her from court, and she unleashed the frozen mantle of winter on the kingdom. She sent the Erlkings and the dragons from her home in the woods to torment the Seelie. They must kill her to lift the curse. It has nothing to do with me.”
I clenched my teeth, scanning the shadow-drenched battlements for signs of Torin. “Why are you telling me all this?”
“At the banquet, the Seelie queen had taken my child, pretending to fuss over her,” she hissed. “The queen passed her to a nursemaid to hold. Someone brought out the severed head of a black bull. A barbaric threat, isn’t it? I tried to run for my daughter, but the Seelie king froze me in ice, and I watched as the nursemaid murdered my heir before me. Smashing her against the rocks. So when I cursed the Seelie royal family, believe me, they bloody deserved it.”
I stared at her, no longer understanding at all. “They killed your daughter?”
She raised an eyebrow. “Apparently, the nursemaid was a master of illusion. Maybe she couldn’t stomach the orders her king issued. Because here you are, Isavell. Alive.”
I’d suspected it already, but hearing it out loud had a dizzying, disorienting effect. Nausea rose in my stomach. No wonder I’d left a trail of blood in my wake, and why killing came so naturally to me. An actual monster had given birth to me.
The wind toyed with the queen’s white hair.
Did she know that the full force of my magic was so close to the surface now? That I could almost taste the cinders on my tongue? Before, she’d been stronger. Now? My magic was a raging river of fire beneath cold rock, and it was ready to erupt .
Love is a forge.
I inhaled deeply, seething. Was this what she thought love was? “So, this is the welcome you give to your own child whom you mourned as dead? Locked in a dungeon? Beaten? Starved? My real mother took care of me.”