“It will take some time to prepare a fete befitting the new King and Queen of Faery. It would appear as if your attire would be better suited for one who is worthy of serving royals than being one. Of course, we are all in agreement that you could never successfully reign as queen in my land. You will fail, naturally. And when all falls to ruin, I shall be here waiting.”
I exhaled a small sigh of relief. “So you’ll let him go?”
“No. I shall keep him here to ensure your return. I cannot have my future investment jeopardizing his life, should your quest fail. Or should you decide to break treaty and tend to other tasks.”
“But I can’t do this without his help. You have to free him.”
“I do not have to do anything unless I so choose.”
A darkened shadow peeled itself from the wall and entered. Followed by a second and then a third. I swallowed, watching as they drifted idly to their master’s side.
“Do you really need your minions by your side? We’re just talking,” I said, feigning nonchalance.
“Yes, halfling girl, I do. Contrary to most other beings I have known, their loyalty to me is unconditional and uncompromising.” Her gaze raked over me once more. “Pure.”
“What do you want from me?” I asked, keeping a close eye on the smoky shapeless forms floating around me, leaving transparent trails of black as they passed.
“I have an offer. One you would do well not to refuse.”
An offer. From the Queen of Air and Darkness. This couldn’t possibly be good. Bargaining with light fey was dangerous enough. This would be as good as making a deal with the devil. But once again, I found myself without more desirable options. If I wanted to save Zanthiel... “I’m listening,” I said smoothly.
Her lips pulled into a thin smile that nearly unglued the mask of calm I wore.
“I will deliver you to your father in the Shadow Court. So long as you and my son will be wed here, in my court. I know the Mythlandrian Court will hold ceremonies to call off the hunt for your head. All coronations are announced there. But the nuptials must be held here. In the Unseelie Court, home to my son’s kin.
A wedding? That was her grand request? I can imagine her poisoning the cake already. “And if I agree to this, what reassurance do I have that you will let Zanthiel leave with me?”
“You have my word.”
I let out a short laugh. “And is that supposed to be enough?”
Her eyes flashed and the black smoke creatures hissed.
“She mocks you, my queen,” one whispered. “Let us end her right now.” Their words floated through the room, making it impossible to tell which, if any of the creatures, was speaking.
I shivered, but held my ground. They weren’t the first monsters I’d met. Nor the worst. And not likely to be the last.
Queen Mab cocked a brow. “They are normally quite docile. Calm. You must bring out the darkness in them.”
Of course I did. I always have that effect on all demonic creatures. I frowned. “You haven’t answered my question,” I said, crossing my arms in front of me.
One swooped at my head and I ducked. Then without warning, I lifted my hand and blasted a gust of wind in their direction. The smoky shifts hissed in unison, but floated back to the protective circle of their master.
Mab looked at me evenly. “They must not like you much,” she said with mock apology.
“Yeah, well, the feeling’s mutual.”
“I am afraid you have no other option but to take me at my word. If my son is good enough for a creature such as yourself, then my word will have to suffice as well.
“Safe passage to the Shadow Court will be granted. Once there, you may continue on to the Mythlandrian Court. Once the coronation proclamation has been completed you will return to my kingdom—“
“You mean my kingdom,” I interjected.
“You will return to this kingdom,” she repeated bitterly, “along with my son, to rule all of Faery as its queen.”
****
Beyond the throne room was an open door. I followed the iced path to a frozen garden. Lifeless and still, the gnarled plants were coated in hoarfrost. Drifting snow led to a semi-frozen stream. Drifting ice formed floating stepping stones that led to a frozen wall across the stream. Queen Mab’s crown was just beyond the floe, encased in the glacial wall. If I could reach it, I might just be able to claim it before she returned. I waded through the snow. It grew deeper with each step. This wasn’t going to work. I’d be buried alive before I managed to get to the ice. I rubbed my arms, not feeling the cold against my skin, but rather the cold of someone’s presence. I turned back. Then stopped. Zanthiel stood at the edge of the snow, his silver glare colder than the ice.
“What do you think you were doing in there?”
“Looking for the crown that will help me save the people I care about.”
“No, you’re getting yourself killed.”
“I get it. You’re still ticked at me for telling your mother about your plan. But I’m not leaving Faery, Zanthiel, my decision hasn’t changed. And I’m not going inside with you until you accept it.”
“Lorelei, I said let’s go.”
“And I said no.”
“Really?” He marched into the waist high snow and grabbed my arm. “Get inside now or I will carry you in myself.”
Two faerie guards came to the edge of the snow garden and paused to watch our heated exchange, smirks painted on their faces.
I glanced at them and then back at Zanthiel.
“Never mind,” I huffed, “I can walk by myself, thanks.”
One guard laughed and whispered to the other as we walked past.
Suddenly I wasn’t the target of Zanthiel’s glare anymore.
“What did you just say?” he said in a low voice.
The faerie lifted his head. “My lord?”
“It is disrespectful to whisper as your future queen passes.”
“Your queen? My lord?” I could hear the confusion in his voice, as clearly as the irritation in Zanthiel’s. Guess he hadn’t heard the happy news.
“I'd heard the Winter prince had taken a human girl for his companion. But I'd no idea it was so serious. She's rather plain, this one.”
“She's the Una Elcta. The one the prophecy told of.”
“She is but a plaything to you, is she not?” He looked genuinely perplexed. “Queen Mab said you’d have your wayward fun with her and be done with it.”
He arched his brow sharply. “She is no human girl, nor is she a plaything. She is a future queen of the fey. You’d do well to mind yourself, unless you wish for the swift taste of death.”
The young fey shook his head, bewildered. “I meant no disrespect, your majesties.” He offered a deep bow, keeping a cautious eye on Zanthiel. Or rather on his sword.
Zanthiel’s eyes narrowed. “Get up, you fool. She’s not your queen yet.”
The fey straightened, giving another quick nod in my direction. “My humble apologies. It’s just her majesty… spoke of your new plaything, and I’d assumed…” His voice trailed off, most likely prompted by the pulsing of the vein in Zanthiel’s neck.
The second guard who’d been quiet up until now scrunched up his face in disbelief. “Her? She's the chosen one? I don't believe it. She's too...” he stepped closer to me to sniff my face.
I stiffened. One day I would hit one of them with a little shove of magic for smelling me. But today wasn't that day.
“Believe it,” he said. The temperature plummeted.
Both faeries froze. They had to be familiar with his lack of patience.
The first guard bowed his head. “Apologies, my lord, I just assumed…”
Stop talking. I wanted to offer that small bit of life-preserving advice, but it was too late.
“You assumed?” Zanthiel hissed. My breath froze and fell to the ground in tiny droplets which shattered on impact.
Zanthiel’s fingers wrapped around the hilt of his sword, though he didn’t draw it.
The fey cowered and backed away. They wanted to run, I could feel it, but they knew fleeing would only infuriate him more.
I placed my hand on Zanthiel's arm. It was more to help calm him than actually restrain him, but it seemed to serve both purposes.
“My mother, when did she tell you this?” Zanthiel asked. His voice had become quiet and deep, like he was reigning in his anger. It was as terrifying as the calm before an impending storm.
“Sh- she has been searching for you, my liege. When her guards could not find you, she told them to search for the half-human doll with dark hair you were amusing yourself with.”
I think I heard his teeth grind together.
“Go. Tell no one you saw us,” he barked. “Least of all the queen.”
The fey nodded and backed away a few paces before retreating back into the castle.
“She must be warming up to me,” I said quietly. “She didn’t call me the halfbreed whelp this time.”
He didn’t laugh. Not that I thought he would. His mother was dangerous. Her hatred of me, of his feelings for me, made for a potentially deadly combination. We both knew that. Yet Zanthiel, my sworn protector, found himself at odds between the family he still served, and me… the half human he could never truly have.
****
He forced me into the dining hall just as his servants were delivering steaming bowls of soup. “Sit down.” He gestured to the table. It was carved from a fallen tree, its roots still dug into the ground beneath the frozen floor. He pulled out a high-backed chair for me, but I shook my head. “No thanks.”
With a frustrated shrug, he sat, greedily pulling one of the bowls toward him.
We hadn’t eaten for a long time, and I knew he was hungry. But this was more than just feeding his hunger. He was stewing over something, I could feel it.
Zanthiel’s head was down, and he focused on ladling mouthfuls of the soup his mother had sent to us, without pausing in between spoonfuls.
I stared bleakly at our surroundings. “This is too easy,” I blurted. “Suddenly she's all in favor of us being together. Why?”
He didn't answer. He kept his head bent, but lifted his eyes to mine.
“Do you know what she wants?” I pressed, starting to pace.
“No, I do not.”
“Do you believe she's all for this now?”
“I don't know.”
“Well, are we going to find out?”
“Lorelei.”
I paused at the terse way he said my name.
"Stop asking me questions I cannot answer,” he said.
Lowering his gaze to his soup, he picked up his spoon then set it back down with a heavy sigh. “I believe she thinks she'll have a way to control things if we unite. Being her son, she presumes my allegiance.”
I leaned both hands on the table. “Is she right?”
He shook his head.
My anxiety lessened a notch. That might have been the obvious reason, but there was likely more to the story. There always was.
Zanthiel stilled, then looked up at me. “I received word from the dwarf. The Shadow Court has been breached. The security surrounding it will not be easy to penetrate for either of us, as a result.”
I stared at him. So this is what had brought on his particularly surly mood. “What does that mean? We can’t get in?”
“We can,” he said slowly, then paused to consider his words, “But we will require a key.”
“A key. From where?”
“I do not wish to discuss it.”
“Well, I do.”
He gestured to my bowl. “You should eat and take some rest, Lorelei. We have a big journey ahead of us.”
He must have meant a big journey to find the key, because traveling to find my father was only one small step on our journey.
“I'm not hungry. Or tired.” I was of course, and the soup really did smell delicious.
I scanned the vast hall, its rows of enormous chandeliers, ornate ceiling tiles and icy floor. I couldn't imagine dining here for the rest of my life.
The servants entered with more freshly baked bread crusted with herbs and cheese. Giving up my stubborn refusal of food, I pulled out a chair and sat across from him.
We ate the rest of our meal in total silence.