Donovan’s eyes flew wide. “No!”
“You’re smart, clever, and good,” I told him. “The world needs that sort of person more than it needs singers.”
He stepped toward me, but it was too late. For once, Chrissy did what I wanted. Lights sparkled and flashed around us. Like a concert, I thought. An auditorium full of fans taking pictures.
I heard sounds of creaking and popping coming from the forest trees. Perhaps they were leaning in for a closer look at what was happening. Perhaps they were reaching for the goblet one last time, trying to grasp hold of it. The lights faded and I stood alone. No, not alone. The shriek of birds coming from above let me know they’d found me. Any moment now Queen Orlaith would arrive.
Chapter 28
I didn’t run, couldn’t. The birds swooped down, swirling around me, ravens and owls alike, a whirlwind of flapping wings. “Girl! Girl!” the ravens shrieked. The flap of their wings sounded wrong too loud, like thunder rumbling across the sky. With each pass they tightened their circle until I felt like I was in the eye of a hurricane. They smelled of dirt and steel, of sword blades that had yet to be drawn. I held my hands in front of my face to keep them from diving in and pecking me.
“Stop!” a voice yelled. The queen’s.
The birds pushed upward. Several black feathers littered the ground near my feet, dropped in the frenzy. The birds flew back into the trees, disappearing like smoke vapor.
No, they hadn’t all vanished. One large black raven sailed across the sky toward me, cutting a slash in the moon’s silhouette. The queen watched it with a sigh.
In a flash, the bird transformed. One moment its wings were outstretched and gliding, the next Kailen dropped down in front of me, elegant and muscular. He was dressed in his usual black, but his hair wasn’t smoothed back in a ponytail like it had been at the dance. It was loose around his shoulders and the ties of his top were undone as though he’d been relaxing somewhere and hadn’t bothered to do them.
“Well, our thief is revealed.” He eyed me smugly. “What do you have to say about that, Mother?”
“I shall apologize to you at length later.” She stepped closer, eyes firm and hard in her pale face. Her red lips were vicious, nearly snarling. “Right now I only have one thing to say.” She leaned toward me, her face inches from mine, and enunciated her words with icy resolve. “Where is my goblet?”
I was trapped. Any sort of escape was hopeless. I could only face my punishment with dignity. I stood straight, chin lifted, but my hands trembled at my side, quaking traitors. “It’s gone. I’m sorry. I had to trade it so my fairy godmother would take Jason back home.”
I left Donovan’s name out of it. No need to drag him into this.
The creaking, popping sound came from forest again. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Kailen staring into the forest, puzzled by the noise.
“Deceiver,” the queen hissed. “Mortal trash. I invited you to my ball as an honored guest and laid a banquet before you.” She took hold of my arm and yanked me toward the forest. I planted my feet but it didn’t matter. With her magic, she was strong enough to drag me wherever she wanted. She strode along the path at a fast pace. I stumbled after her, listening to her accusations.
“I brought you to a place humans only dream of glimpsing, and you repay me thusly?”
“I’m sorry. I had no choice.”
“No choice?” Her nails bit into my arm. “’Tis true enough. Mortals by nature are selfish, greedy liars.”
The accusation was too much, especially since Queen Orlaith had stolen the goblet from another fairy queen. I nearly pointed out I’d just been used as a tool in fairy intrigue, but I didn’t say the words. Part of me hoped Chrissy hadn’t completely deserted me. Surely a lingering sense of responsibility would draw her back here. It was better not to direct Queen Orlaith’s wrath that way. Instead I said, “You only invited us to the ball to feed your trees.”
“Oh, you will feed my trees, my dear.” She pulled me harder, making me stumble. “Your blood will water their roots.”
“Mother!” Kailen said, appearing at her side. “The trees—look at them.”
Queen Orlaith’s gaze shot to the silver trees up ahead. She gasped and stopped so quickly I almost ran into her.
I followed her gaze to see what had startled her. The silhouette of bare branches had changed. No longer did their arms reach upward like smooth candelabras. Buds had opened. New leaves shimmered in the moonlight, sleek and stretching.
Queen Orlaith let out another gasp, a happy one, a cry of joy. She let go of me and reached out to the trees like she wanted to caress each one. “At last.”
I took a couple of cautious steps backward, wondering how far I could get away before she and Kailen noticed. As it turned out, not far.
Kailen’s eyes returned to mine, questioning and sharp. “What caused the trees to grow?”
I had no idea . . . was too worried to puzzle it out. If I pretended to have answers, they would keep me alive. But how could I pretend? I couldn’t even tell a small lie.
“The fruit,” the Queen murmured. “Perhaps it too has ripened.” Her voice grew more certain. “Yes, it may have.” She strode over and took hold of my arm, hard. “Did your love trigger the trees to grow? What did you do?”
I stared at her unspeaking. The answer came to me, drenched with all sorts of unpleasant implications.
I had sacrificed my future for Donovan’s. That had been the act of love that finally made the trees grow. It was the reason the goblet had told Queen Orlaith only mortals’ love would work. Fairies couldn’t sacrifice for each other that way. They were magical and immortal. What could they sacrifice?
I couldn’t tell Queen Orlaith any of this. If she thought sacrifice made her trees grow, what would she require from mortals next? She would most likely endanger the princesses to make their princes sacrifice for them.
I wouldn’t bargain for my life, not if it meant putting others in danger.
“How could I know anything about your trees?” I asked. “I’m just an unimportant mortal. Carry out whatever sentence you’re going to give me.”
The silver trees’ branches popped and creaked—the same noise I’d heard earlier. As I watched, the outlines of more leaves unfurled and grew. I had sacrificed again, and it had taken effect.
I pressed my lips together, afraid to say more. I didn’t want the fairies to guess what I knew.
The queen’s grip on my arm tightened. She yanked me closer as though she could read my secrets in my eyes. “You did something. You will tell me everything, or you will suffer.”
The irony of her threat didn’t escape me. “If you have to torture someone to learn about love, you won’t understand it.”
Near my side, Kailen paced impatiently. “I’ll check the trees at the pavilion and see if their fruit is ripe.” As he spoke the last word, he spread his wings. With his smooth black feathers, he looked more like a dark angel than a fairy. He shot away, vanishing over the treetops so quickly I couldn’t tell whether he’d stayed a fairy or transformed back into a bird.
The queen glanced at me, then at the sky, undecided. She pursed her lips unhappily. “I’ll go with my son.” I felt her uneasiness more than heard it. She wanted to be there when he checked the fruit.
Perhaps she was one of those ultra-controlling people who couldn’t delegate important tasks, or perhaps she had reasons not to trust Kailen. Whatever the case, she dropped hold of my arm.
For one hopeful moment I thought she might free me, that she was so happy to have the trees growing again, she’d spare me whatever punishment she’d planned.
“No, little thief,” she said, guessing my thoughts. “You won’t flee. You’ve still things to tell me.”
The ground stirred beneath me, shifted, rumbled. Two long brown snakes slithered from the ground, grabbing my ankles. I tried to jerk away, but couldn’t free myself.
The creatures clamped around my feet so firmly I lost my balance and fell forward. I hit the ground, palms stinging. The snakes slithered up my legs, holding me. No, they weren’t snakes—they were roots. Thick, winding roots.