“No!” she cried, lunging forward.
Maeve spun to confront her. “Traitor!” she cried and froze Rania in place.
In the same moment, a Fae dagger sliced through the air, seeming to fly in slow motion. It was a masterful throw, and the blade turned end over end, flashing silver as it sped toward its target. Maeve turned from Rania and cried out as she spotted it but it was too late. The blade caught Bryant between the shoulder blades, burying itself so deeply that the tip emerged from his chest. He stared down as the silver liquid began to flow, his expression astonished, then he crumbled. He became a puddle before he hit the ground.
There was a shout as the company from New York descended on the Fae court and chaos erupted on all sides. Wolf mates attacked Fae and Fae fought back. Wolf shifters barked and howled, driving the Fae into a tighter cluster, and dragons flew overhead, burning the gathered Fae with volleys of dragonfire. A company of swans flew into the fray, honking and flapping, snapping at the Fae with their beaks, accompanied by a citrine and gold dragon. Rania wanted to cheer.
But Maeve braced her feet against the ground and called an ancient summons. The ground shook and the lightning cracked overhead. A wind whipped around the court, snatching away the sound of music and tearing at clothing, wings and hair. She stood in her heels and called, her command imperious, and the magick answered her, rising from the heath around her in a wave of glowing red. It flowed skyward, engulfing everything and everyone—and every being it surrounded became motionless. When it rose over their heads, the court was so silent and still that the hair stood up on the back of Rania’s neck.
Except for Maeve. She turned and walked toward Rania, her gaze cold. “I know you didn’t come unarmed, traitor,” she said with hostility. “Show me what you have.”
Rania couldn’t deny her. It was as if her body answered Maeve’s will and not her own. She found herself displaying both the kesir with its waved blade and the katar.
Maeve didn’t touch them. “Steel,” she hissed.
Maybe that would help, since the Fae couldn’t wield them... Rania got no further in her thinking before Maeve beckoned to Kade.
He strode to her side immediately, bending his head attentively toward her. “Yes, my queen.”
“We must see an endeavor completed,” she said to him. “You and I must do it together. I’ve already ensured that you won’t be interrupted.”
“Yes, my queen.”
“I want you to choose a knife, then use it to ensure that he—” she pointed to Alasdair “–dies and that he—” she indicated Hadrian “—stays dead this time.” She turned and framed Kade’s face in her hands while he stared at her in adoration. “Then I will ensure that you’re rewarded beyond your wildest dreams.”
Kade smiled. His eyes lit. Rania had no doubt that he would do exactly as bidden. “What about the swan maiden?” he asked.
Maeve smiled at Rania and the sight was chilling. “She’s just learned to feel, Kade. It would be unfair to take that away, just when she’s about to have so very much to mourn.” She walked back to her throne, hips swinging. “It’s a shame about Bryant, but then, he hadn’t been himself lately.” She sat down and gestured to Kade. “Slice them open, gullet to groin,” she commanded. “I want to see some blood.”
There was a sliver of ice in Kade’s heart. Hadrian could feel it. He called to it, hoping he could melt it, just as he’d melted the other two, hoping he could save Alasdair, Rania and himself from Maeve’s wrath.
If only the splinter responded to him in time.
They were toast.
Alasdair figured the effort had been valiant, but Maeve had out-magicked them. They couldn’t exactly fight back, defend themselves, or defeat her when they’d all practically become statues.
It stunk, but there was nothing any of them could do about it.
Kade approached Rania and examined her two blades. After some deliberation, he chose the katar, the short push-dagger. Alasdair was glad in a way that both of Rania’s weapons were fiercely sharp.
“But you took the wrong child,” a woman cried when Kade turned around.
A slender dark-haired woman manifested suddenly in the midst of the Fae court, seemingly appearing out of nothing at all. Alasdair had never seen such a beauty in his life. She lifted her chin, her dark eyes bright with defiance, her dark hair flowing as if she stood in a slight breeze. She confronted Maeve with an audacity he admired, a golden orb cradled in her hands. It was the gem of the hoard, Alasdair guessed, because Maeve leaned forward in outrage.
“Where did you get that?” Maeve demanded. “How dare you touch it!”
“I took it, just as you took the magick within it. I am Yasmina, wise woman of the djinns,” the new arrival said and Alasdair understood how she’d suddenly appeared. She’d been a wisp of smoke before. “You stole my magick, Maeve, and snared it in this orb. I demand its return.”
“You can’t have it,” Maeve said. “It’s mine.”
Yasmina shook her head. “No longer. You have made your last theft.”
“I’m no thief!”
“You’re a thief many times over. You stole my magick. You stole the magick of others. You stole many lives. But most importantly, at this moment, you stole the life of Rania when you took her from the cradle. You owe her recompense, because she was the wrong child.”
“Wrong child?” Maeve demanded, rising to her feet in indignation. “What a lot of nonsense. She was a tithe owed to me, and I used her as I saw fit. It was my right!”
“Rania wasn’t the witch’s daughter,” Yasmina said. “She was the queen’s daughter, and the daughter of the swan-prince.”
“Ulrik has nothing to do with this,” the Dark Queen retorted. “He’s the last of his kind and I’ll take him out next...”
But Rania was a swan-shifter. If this Ulrik was another swan shifter, then he couldn’t be the last of his kind.
And if Maeve knew that Rania was a swan-maiden, then she had to have realized that Rania wasn’t the witch’s daughter, after all.
“You knew,” Hadrian charged in old-speak and Alasdair realized they’d made the same conclusion. Sadly, no one else could understand the communication of the Pyr.
“You knew,” Kade echoed aloud, turning to the queen. His expression was one of surprise and even a little disappointment. He turned the blade in his hand. “You knew,” he said again.
Maeve took a step back.
“It didn’t matter who she was,” the Dark Queen protested. “She was mine. I took her as a tithe and I used her as I saw fit.
“And for that, you owe Rania compensation,” Yasmina informed Maeve, then lifted the gem of the hoard.
“No!” Maeve protested.
“Yes,” Yasmina said with resolve. “I’ve already chosen the only gift that will suffice. This must be shattered to make amends to everyone.”
“No!” Maeve cried and Kade turned on Yasmina. Alasdair feared he’d have to watch her be slaughtered, but she crouched down then vanished, becoming a wisp of dark smoke. Kade slashed at her but his blade passed through nothing at all.