My blood runs cold. “What?”
Down the street, the massive gates of Florendel open wide, unveiling hundreds of goblin ranks, marching in well-organized formations. Spring guards on horseback accompany them on both sides.
A chant rises from the goblins, like the steely bang of a drum: “Kairyn. Kairyn. Kairyn.”
“This is fucking madness,” Dayton growls, voice nearly lost to the chant and the rising cries of the crowd.
Some citizens stand shocked, barely able to move out of the way of the approaching army. Others begin vocalizing their protest. Fae swarm toward the dais.
“You’re mad,” I snarl at the new High Prince. “Your people will never accept this.”
They may have reluctantly accepted Ezryn’s banishment, but to work with the monsters that raided their towns and villages for hundreds of years? Kairyn has truly turned against reason.
In answer, Kairyn spreads his arms to the side, palms to the sky. Magic crackles. I swing my head from side to side, watching as every red bud that decorates the rooftops, the lampposts, the awnings, bursts into bloom. Their pollen catches in the wind and swirls through the crowd.
The uproar dies. I gaze in terror as a fae, fist clenched with anger, quietly lowers their hand, eyes growing distant. They step back to make room for the approaching goblins.
“People of Spring,” Kairyn continues, “only together can we topple our true enemy. The High Princes who have hidden in the castle while the rest of us have suffered!”
“I expected you to aid us in battling the forces of the Below,” I bellow, “not to align with them!”
Dayton’s eyes widen, and he surges forward with such a force, a small crack appears in his metal shackles. “Farron!”
I look through the crowd. Sure enough, there he is. But Farron’s joined the growing chant. A chant both the goblins and the people of Spring now cry out: “Kairyn! Kairyn! Kairyn!”
“It’s the plants. Once someone gets a whiff of that pollen, they’re under Kairyn’s control,” I growl. Farron must have inhaled some when we were following Ezryn through the streets.
Dayton lets out a pained breath. Golden hair falls across his blue eyes. “Fare…”
The goblins now stand among the fae, their cheer growing loud enough to shake the dais. A swirl of pollen hovers above Dayton’s head. “Don’t breathe—” I start when I feel a peculiar sweetness on my tongue. My mind drains to that strange space between sleep and awake. And my mouth moves not of my own accord.
“Kairyn,” I chant. “Kairyn! Kairyn!”
94
Ezryn
There’s a strangeness to my movement. Everything feels too loose, too free. I’ve spent my life bound beneath metal. But I’ve been stripped, piece by piece. Uncoiled.
My fingers tighten on the hilt of my mother’s sword. In its reflection gleams the tall point of the monastery. That’s where she is.
“Sire.” Eldy hovers a shaky hand above my shoulder, then removes it. “The Queen’s Army that remain are loyal to Kairyn, and they’ve been trained since birth. They will not let you pass. And without the Blessing—”
“There is no magic left within me.” Some fae have minor magic, but Kairyn drained even that. “I don’t need magic to get what I want.”
Eldy’s lip quivers, eyes darting to the monastery, then back to me. “It’s not just the soldiers that live there, but also the Golden Acolytes. Their loyalties may be questionable but the Spring Realm royalty has always protected them. As their prince—”
I push past him and take the first step toward the monastery. “I’m not a prince of Spring. Not anymore.”
95
Rosalina
The trident draws out of my stomach, soaked in blood, red as a rose. And for a moment, I don’t quite believe it to be my own. Because I don’t feel any pain.
There’s only shock.
The Nightingale truly means to kill me.
I stumble back. There’s a three-pronged gash through my dress, the tattered ends dripping.
Her laugh echoes through the small room, breaking whatever spell I’m under. The pain comes sharp and biting, like my skin is on fire. Two of the Queen’s Army stand before the elevator. I’ll find another way, then. I cry out, staggering across the chamber, throwing open the door. And come face to face with two lines of armored men and women.
More of the traitorous Queen’s Army.
“Don’t bother running,” the Nightingale trills. “Our army has this tower completely occupied.”