The portal appearing now seemed to be made of green and purple smoke and dark shadows. Red streaks of lightning flashed inside it and thunder rumbled ominously, as though some horrible storm was happening on the other side of it.
And then a woman with long black hair, black eyes, and pale-white skin stepped through the portal. Her lips were a red slash—the only spot of color on her face—and they curved up as she looked at the queen.
“Hello, Elia dear,” she said, smirking at my grandmother. “How is our granddaughter today? You’ve had your turn with her—I think it’s high time she visited the other court she is heir to.”
84
The queen seemed to be at a loss for words at first. She stared at the woman—whose age was impossible to say—her mouth open in shock. Finally she exclaimed,
“Mab! How dare you invade the Summer Court in this manner when you know you are not welcome here?”
“I dare because you have something which belongs to me—or should I say, belongs to both of us. Our granddaughter.”
Mab, the queen of the Winter Court, turned to stare right at me and I saw something awful about her eyes. It wasn’t just the pupils and irises that were black. It looked as though the blackness had bled outwards, so that it covered even the whites of her eyes. Her entire eye socket was filled with a pool of ebony which just looked…wrong.
When she looked at me, I felt like a cold wind was blowing through my clothes. Chills ran down my spine and my heart began to pound.
“Hello, granddaughter,” she said, her perfectly painted red lips curving up into a cruel smile. “Are you ready to come and see the Winter Court?”
“You cannot take her!” Queen Elia exclaimed, throwing an arm in front of me like she was trying to save me from a traffic accident. “Emma belongs to the Summer Court! She came here first—I have claimed her!”
“Ah, but you cannot claim her—she must choose,” Mab said, giving me that cruel, slightly mad smile again. “And she cannot choose until she has seen all the delights we of the Winter Court have to offer.”
“I…I don’t understand,” I said, finding my voice at last—though it came out sounding extremely shaky. “How can I be your granddaughter and Queen Elia’s too?”
“Why, because my daughter, Princess Lorella, was your mother! Surely your new grandmother told you that?” Mab raised her expertly shaped eyebrows at me in a questioning gesture. They looked like insects crawling on her perfectly white face.
“No…” I turned to Queen Elia who had a look of agony on her face. “Grandmother, is that true?”
For a moment, the queen looked like Morganna had looked while she was under the truth spell back at Nocturne Academy—like she wanted to lie but couldn’t. Finally she nodded.
“It’s true,” she said sadly. “Tarren came to me and said that he had fallen in love with the princess of the Winter Court. I rejected the match and told him he must choose from among the girls of the Summer Court. But his heart was already given and so he…he ran from me.” She stifled a sob. “He ran and I never saw him again!” Turning to me, she gripped my hand tightly. Her eyes were full of tears. “You are all I have left of him now, Emma! You are the only heir to my throne! Please—choose the Summer Court and not the Winter!”
“She cannot choose until she has seen both courts. The prophecy says as much—she is a child of both Realms with the power to rule either,” Mab said. “Oh yes,” she added, smiling maliciously. “I know about the prophecy! Did you think I did not, my dear Elia?”
“What prophecy?” I demanded in a voice that was slightly stronger. Queen Elia had mentioned a prophecy in the scrying room, but though everyone was using it as a justification for putting me in this tug-of-war of royal succession, nobody had told me what the damn thing said!
Slowly, Queen Mab began to chant. The prophecy didn’t rhyme, exactly, but there was a kind of sing-song quality to it and the words seemed to echo and hang in the air long after she had spoken them.
“A Child of Two Realms, though a Citizen of Neither,
She holds the keys to both kingdoms in her grasp.
With consorts of both she comes into her power.
A Dark Mage and a White Knight have both won her favor.
Her heart is divided between them—her love belongs to both.
Iron cannot burn her and even the wildest creature will be tame to her hand.
For the power of both Realms flows in her veins.
When the time of reckoning comes, she must choose between the Light and the Darkness—the Summer and the Winter—and nothing will be as it was.
For her decision will change the Realms…forever.”
A sigh swept through the banquet hall as Queen Mab finished reciting and I saw that Queen Elia was crying again. She turned to me, and the worry and despair I saw in her face frightened me more than Mab’s mad smile.
“She is right—I cannot stop her taking you because you must spend some time in the Winter Kingdom before you choose,” she said in a choked voice. “But you must be careful, my dear! Don’t eat any food that is offered to you—not even a crumb! And don’t drink any wine, either—promise me!”
This was beginning to remind me of the Greek myth of Persephone and Hades. The way he had stolen her down to Hell and there she had gotten hungry and eaten six pomegranate seeds, which gave him the right to keep her with him six months out of every year for some reason. I remembered Lachlan saying that every fairy tale and myth had a basis in reality—could this be part of what he’d been talking about?
“I promise,” I said. “But how long do I have to stay there?”
“A night and a day—starting now, I think.” Mab was suddenly right in front of me, though I hadn’t seen her move. Her dress seemed to be made of the same green and purple smoke the portal was made of. She held out a long white hand to me, tipped in sharp red nails. “Come—let us visit the Winter Court together so that you can sample the delights of the Dark Lands, Granddaughter mine.”
“She’s not going alone,” Bran growled, rising to stand at my left side.
“We’re going with her,” Lachlan added, coming to stand on my right.
Mab raised her eyebrows again but only nodded.
“I would expect nothing less. Though I daresay your White Knight will feel less at home in my palace than the Dark Mage, my dear,” she said to me. “Come then—let us all go.”
“Be careful, my dear!” Queen Elia gathered me to her for a brief, fierce hug. “Remember—let nothing pass your lips!” she whispered in my ear before letting me go.
And then, since I apparently had no choice, I had to go with Queen Mab—my other grandmother—to the Winter Court.
I could feel my knees shaking as we approached the awful dark portal but Bran grabbed one hand and Lachlan took the other.
“It’s all right, little one,” the dark Fae murmured. “We’ll be by your side no matter what.”
“We’ll never leave you,” Bran swore.
And then the three of us passed through the dark portal into the Winter Court.