And Princess Isidora cries out once, holding her throat, as she falls before Ezryn’s feet.
“No,” I whisper, my voice lost to the cry of the young fae man before me, clutching feverishly at the mother he killed.
And my Ezryn sinks to his knees beside me, silent.
“Murderer!” A new voice, a new figure among the dead trees. Kairyn. He turns and runs away.
Then more voices join the fray, coming from all around us: “Murderer! Murderer! Murderer!”
Some of them I recognize: Kairyn’s, Eldy’s, Kel’s.
My own.
The world is shifting again, the voices turning to cackles, the trees growing eyes. The lake is now a bubbling pool of lava. No, no, we can’t keep doing this. We have to get out. It needs to stop.
I need to stop it.
I struggle to my feet and look around, trying to see past what’s real and what’s not. The flowers … They got their pollen on us. I need to get it off.
Lava boils and pops. I told Ezryn he could trust me. I need to trust me.
I sprint straight into the fire.
51
Rosalina
Cold water rushes over me as I collapse into the lake. I plunge my head under again and again, scrubbing at my eyes, and gulping down the water to clear my throat.
With a gasp, I surge upward and look around. My brain is foggy, but my vision is clear. That fucking flower…
A growl rips from me as I stare at the purple flowers under the willow tree. Shooting my wrist out, thorns erupt, crashing under the roots of the plants, then smothering them. I won’t chance getting blasted with that pollen again.
An anguished cry sounds, and I spot Ezryn pacing in circles, clawing at his breastplate. “It was an accident! An accident!”
I need to get him in the water and get that pollen out of his face.
Heaving my soaking dress up into my arms, I sprint over to him. “Ez, listen to me. It’s Rosie. Come on, I’ll help you.” I touch his arm.
He staggers away. “Get away from me! I can’t control it!”
“You’re not hurting me,” I say calmly. “I’m not in danger. See? I’m okay. Come with me.”
“Stop, Kai, stop, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” He slams a hand against his helm. “Get out of my fucking head!”
Shit, I didn’t want to do it this way, but I might have to. I twitch my wrists, feeling for the briars at my command. “Ez, forgive me for this—”
The tearing of earth sounds, and I jump. At the edge of the willow tree, my thorns shoot up, growing and writhing. Someone is using them.
My chest heaves, and a strange smile appears on my face.
Caspian.
I should feel afraid, but instead I’m relieved. He’ll help me save Ezryn. I know he will.
The briars fall away to reveal a figure.
Not Caspian.
A masked woman. Someone I’ve seen only once before in the Below.
The Nightingale.
52
Rosalina
What relief I felt a moment ago turns to ash. I take a wobbly sidestep, placing myself between Ezryn and the intruder.
The Nightingale is dressed in similar armor to the last time I saw her: form-fitting, with jewel tones that change shade like a pool of oil. Her mask shrouds the bottom half of her face, revealing only her piercing blue eyes. Even with only that visible, I can tell she’s smiling.
With feline grace, she glides away from the willow tree and chucks something through the air.
A seed. A seed just like the one Caspian gave us to grow a portal to the Below.
Light and darkness shimmer together as thorns burst up, forming an iridescent door. And through it charges hundreds of soldiers and goblins.
They form obedient ranks behind her, and she stands at the front, pride glittering in her eyes. The armored soldiers—the Dreadknights, she’d called them the last time—stand at attention holding blades and bows. She twirls a short and slender sword in each hand. Her goblins chitter excitedly at the back; thankfully, this lot isn’t burning with green flame.
Though, I’m not sure that’s going to make much of a difference right now.
The Nightingale steps forward. “Well, this could not be any more perfect. Your dear prince seems to be having a hard time. Perhaps he’d like to be put out of his misery?”
A thorn erupts beside me, “I’ll never let you hurt him.”
She throws her head back. “This is so fun! Here I was thinking we’d be playing cat and mouse all night. But your little thorn trick led me straight here.” She gestures to the thorns I created to stifle the hallucinogenic pollen. “Now, I get to watch your face as I bleed your prince out, prick by prick.”