“No!” she shouts. “I can’t believe a word you say. You could have deliberately knocked him out. You could have spelled him. All of this could be a trap! You know our location. Your queen has already attacked us. The minute we lower our guard, you’ll kill us.”
“I don’t… have the power… to spell him…” Like other humans, Christiana doesn’t understand how fae magic works, that my power is limited to my control over starlight. Dark magic can be used to control someone’s actions—like Cyrian used to subdue Christiana yesterday—but fae magic can’t. “I don’t know anything about an attack.”
I beg Christiana to believe me, but the line of her lips remains determined. “Mathilda will tell us the truth,” she repeats.
Deep down, I understand her distrust. I know she would do anything for her brother, but if she truly believes I’ve betrayed his people, then she has to think of every human here. They’re Nathaniel’s family. He loves all of them like brothers and sisters. She has an awful choice in front of her.
I wouldn’t believe me, either.
My head lowers, pain and exhaustion taking its toll, before I wrench myself upright again, determined not to reveal the true extent of my current physical weakness.
Treble turns his head toward Christiana. His eyes are filled with rage on my behalf, but he knows better than to try to get in her way. She’ll let her arrow loose at the slightest provocation.
She continues to point her weapon directly at my right eye.
I guess she’s considering whether or not to take the shot.
It might be her only chance to kill me. I’m completely vulnerable, holding Nathaniel with my left arm and Hagan with my right. I won’t be able to get my hands up in time to defend myself—assuming I’m prepared to drop both men.
Despair fills me—a slow, cold darkness growing inside my chest. The Law of Champions is clear: Any human who spills a drop of my blood or kills me will be killed instantly.
If she’s willing to kill herself to end me, then there’s nothing I can do or say to convince her this isn’t some kind of trap. Using my starlight to create the opportunity for us to land certainly wouldn’t have helped her view of the situation.
She will never trust me. No matter what Mathilda says.
My only ally is Nathaniel, and he’s unable to speak.
I drag air in and out of my chest. Each breath is harsh with pain and emptiness. I count each one, not sure if I’ll make it to the next.
“Do it,” I snarl at her, no longer able to see beyond my pain and despair. “Kill me! Just make sure someone catches Nathaniel before he falls.”
She jolts. Her voice rises to a scream. “Mathilda! I need you now!”
My vision blurs, but I make out the ripple in the middle of the wheat field as a patch of wheat crumbles into dust.
The air in front of me flickers.
Mathilda appears a few paces behind Christiana. The witch’s hair is as loose and wild as it was yesterday morning. Her fire-colored pelt sits around her shoulders, billowing in the rush of her movement. Today she’s wearing a low cut, faded violet dress that hugs her voluptuous figure.
Mathilda’s piercing green eyes are wide as she takes in the scene: Treble, Christiana, the trainees, and finally me and Nathaniel.
She moves with speed. As she crosses the distance between us, her hand shoots out toward Christiana, a flash of dark light spearing across the air.
Christiana shouts and jumps back when the dark magic hits her arrow, burning it instantly to ash that wafts away in the rushing breeze of Mathilda’s arrival.
Despite Christiana’s alarm, Mathilda continues to storm toward her. “Christiana Exalted,” she rages. “Have you lost your senses? Without Nathaniel, you’re the only true heir to the throne. You must not kill yourself!”
Christiana stares back at Mathilda, her eyes wide with shock. “The fae have already struck at the heart of our home. Aura could be here to finish the job. I have to defend my people!”
Mathilda grabs Christiana’s arm, peering deep into her eyes. “Has fear taken priority over your brother’s life? What about your own life?”
Christiana’s face crumples. “We could have lost everyone this morning. I won’t take any more risks.”
Mathilda’s expression softens, but she whirls to me, her gaze quickly taking in the way I’m holding on to Nathaniel and his precarious position on Treble’s back. His black clothing and his position pressed up against my chest hide the worst of the blood, but her gaze seeks the rip in the front of his shirt where the spike protruded.
“He’s dying,” Mathilda cries, clutching her heart. “His bright heart is barely glowing. Every second we waste takes Nathaniel closer to death.”
She swings back to Christiana. “A few glitter bulbs are nothing! If Nathaniel dies, Imatra will control our land.”
Glitter bulbs? I sway on Treble’s back. My left arm has turned numb. Mathilda said something about glitter bulbs, but I’m too unfocused to make sense of it.
“What about Aura?” Christiana asks. “Is she here to kill us? You have to look into her heart and tell me. Until I know for sure, I have to treat her as a threat.”
Dark light builds under Mathilda’s feet, lifting her up so that she rises to eye height with me, floating in the air between Treble and Christiana. When we first met yesterday morning, Mathilda tried to kill me. She called me a weapon, the murderer of a thousand human warriors. She thought Nathaniel should have ended me, not brought me to Fell country. Her attitude toward me shifted when she tried to look into my heart—she closed off and refused to say what she’d seen.
Now, she considers me with just as much distrust, but behind her expression is another emotion I can’t make out through the haze of my pain. I can only assume it’s fear. There’s no doubt in my mind that Mathilda still believes Nathaniel should have killed me.
“I can’t do that, Christiana,” she says, a gleam in her luminescent green eyes. “Aura’s heart is hidden from me.”
Christiana’s jaw clenches. “Then I have no choice. Aura Lucidia is our enemy until Nathaniel can tell us otherwise. Now, please, Mathilda, take him from her.”
Mathilda lifts her arms toward me. Her voice is gentle now, coaxing me to believe her. “It’s okay, Aura. You can let Nathaniel go. I’ve got him.”
“Hagan too,” I say, uncertain whether Mathilda will agree to heal the hunter. “Please. He needs a second chance.”
Christiana startles, lowering her weapon when she hears Hagan’s name. I guess she really can’t see him from the ground.
“I can’t hold on to him,” I say to Mathilda. “My shoulder’s dislocated.”
“Ah. I sensed your pain.” A wave of dark light flows across Mathilda’s face, casting her features into shadow. “I can take both men, but I’m afraid you will need to walk on your own. I will have to drain the environment too much to constrain you to Christiana’s satisfaction while I carry them both.”
“I’ll follow you. I won’t fight,” I whisper, struggling to hold my head up. “You need to heal Nathaniel first. Then Hagan.”
“You’re in pain too,” Mathilda says, her gaze narrowing in an assessing look.