Page 112 of The Witch Queen

Now I can’t help the barking laugh that escapes me. “You passed out from your wounds. I gave us both doses of the thayar concentrate to heal you quickly. I’m not exactly sure how long I’m going to look like this, but it might be awhile…” I trail off.

“Fionn and Silene? Did they…”

“They took them,” I whisper quietly. The memory of our enemies disappearing with our friends makes my heart skip a beat. I continue with steely resolve, no room for argument in my voice, “We’ll get them back.”

“I have no doubt about that, sunbeam,” he says as he stands, keeping his eyes closed to protect them from my burning light. I guide him to sit on the couch, not caring one bit about the mess of the blood that still covers him. “But before we do that, let’s see if we can get that light of yours under control. Close your eyes, take a deep breath, then imagine yourself as a candle or an orb of light. Physically picture the image in your mind.” He waits a few moments before continuing, “You got the mental image?” I nod. “Good, now envision yourself blowing the candle out, or covering the orb with a bowl, whatever makes sense.”

I concentrate on the candle in my mind, then imagine a great wind sweeping through and blowing it out. I slowly open my eyes, and the room has returned to its usual brightness.

“I did it,” I exclaim, and Thorne opens his eyes with a grin.

Admon claps. “Excellent work, Your Majesty. Can you tell me what happened now?” Thorne and I together relay the events to Admon, who furrows his brows. “They knew you were mates? Who else knows?”

“Carex,” Thorne and I snarl together, aether in my voice and another hint of it in Thorne’s, causing Admon to take a step back from the force of our magic-laced words.

“Surely you don’t think he betrayed your secret?” Admon asks. The deep lines of his face pinch together in worry, and his eyes are unseeing as he thinks through all he’s learned.

“I don’t know what I believe anymore,” I say with a sigh. “But if Nemesia is innocent, then that leaves someone on the Council who knew about me using the plant channelers to help coax the thayar populations. Until I can question him myself, arrest him and keep him in his rooms under guard. I’ve learned a lesson with Nemesia, so I won’t have him sent to the cells without proof, but he will not leave this palace until I know more. Thorne and I are going to go get Fionn and Silene.”

Admon bows. “Of course, I’ll have him detained.” His eyes bore into me, fear written clearly across them. “Be careful, Laurel. I’m not sure we’ve discovered every facet of the situation yet. I fear there’s more to this that we’re not seeing.” I nod curtly, and he turns to leave, Lunaria tracking his every step with the focus of a feline.

“Where do you think they’ve taken them?” Thorne asks, his own worry apparent now that we’re alone. I squeeze his hand in reassurance.

“I recognized several of the fae from a tavern I visited on my way to the Forum meeting. In Echosa. There was open distaste for me when I walked through the tavern as well. They must have a second headquarters there.” Thorne’s eyes light up with knowing.

“The documents we went through in Krantz’s desk mentioned Echosa frequently,” he relays.

“Then let’s go find the Echosan rebel base and get our friends back,” I say with a menacing smile.

“You’re sexy when you’re angry,” he says, the words hollow with our family taken. “But we should wait until the morning.” I start to protest, but Thorne adds, his words firm, “It’s dark outside. I won’t be much use to you until daylight. I want to get them back as desperately as you do. I can barely stand the thought of leaving them there even a minute longer than necessary. But we need to be prepared, especially if it’s just going to be the two of us. Not to mention, I’m still sore from my wounds and you useda lotof magic during that attack. We should rest here for a few hours and let the thayar concentrate fully restore us, then depart as soon as the sun rises.”

Although I want to argue, I know he’s right. Plus, even though my magic is stronger with the concentrate running through my veins, it’s more unpredictable and harder to wield—not a great combination for stealth.

“Fine,” I relent. “But we’re leaving the moment the sun’s on the horizon.” He nods, and I take his hand to lead him to the bathroom. I gently wash the blood from his body, fussing over him as he protests. I wash myself quickly, then we both collapse into bed for a few hours of restless sleep.

“Have you heard of any places the rebels might have gathered? An abandoned manor or other place they might hide?” I ask Mara and her husband early the next morning. When we’d arrived at The Emerald Shell at sunrise, only a single maid had been awake, just beginning her task of cooking breakfast for the overnight guests. She paled when we demanded she wake the owners immediately but did our bidding asking no questions. Though it’s a risk, I trust that Mara and her husband are loyal to the crown and not working with the rebels. It’s early enough that none have come down for breakfast, so we can hopefully slip in and out of Echosa unnoticed. Mara’s husband shakes his head, but Mara looks at me, fear in her eyes. “Mara, if you know where they might be, please, tell me. They have Fionn and Silene, who worked so tirelessly to help build back your family’s bakery in Arberly,” I implore.

“There’s an old house about an hour away, if you’re traveling by foot,” Mara says. “Due north of here, completely isolated. It used to belong to a wealthy family who abandoned it to move to Arberly. My parents were friends with them. I don’t know if there are rebels squatting there, but it’s the only structure I can think of near Echosa that could hold them.”

I take her hands in mine. “Thank you, Mara. I will make sure you’re not connected to this in any way. You have my full protection.”

She nods, and Thorne and I hurry out the back door of the tavern before I aerstep us north as close as we can get without being seen. We walk for about twenty minutes before we spot the old house in the distance, hundreds of makeshift tents surrounding it on all sides. It’s much smaller than the estate in Oakton, probably causing the need for so many tents.

“How’s your magic?” I ask Thorne. “If I aerstep us closer, can you keep us hidden?”

He gives me a cocky grin. “There’s plenty of light, witchling. You get us close, I’ll make sure we aren’t seen.”

I nod, feeling Thorne’s magic wrap around me with a loving caress before I aerstep us several yards closer. We watch in silence as the house wakes up. There’s a clear guard rotation, the morning shift relieving those tasked with keeping watch overnight. Humans emerge from the tents, and I bite back a scoff that the fae get to sleep in the house while the humans are relegated to tents.

“I think we found the right place,” I whisper. Thorne nods. I can still see him using my own magic, though I’m not sure if he can see me. “Am I invisible to you?”

“No,” he murmurs close to my ear. “I can choose how the light bends and make it so that we can see each other even while we remain hidden to others.” His magic finds new ways to impress me every day.

“Let’s walk inside carefully. Take stock of the situation and see if we can find where they’re keeping them before we launch an assault. Follow me.” Slowly, we make our way through the rows of tents, stopping and starting every few steps to avoid crashing into someone. It’s agonizingly slow, and I want to just aerstep us inside the house. But without knowing the layout, the risk that I would drop us right on top of Krantz is too great. When we finally make it to the front door, we pause for a moment to let a human man walk through it before quickly following him, so we don’t have to reopen and close the swinging door. I take a deep breath on the other side, steeling my nerves.

Once inside, the manor buzzes with activity, making it even more difficult to stay unnoticed. Despite being invisible, if someone walks into us, we’ll be just as exposed as if we’d waltzed in. Hugging the walls, we slowly inch down the hallway. Rebels polish weapons and inspect supplies in almost every room. A human woman walks around dishing out porridge from a steaming pot, and young women and females run around gathering laundry and picking up discarded dishes.Of course Krantz would have the same backwards views about females as Mazus.

As we follow a pretty young human woman, no older than twenty-one, carrying laundry, she stops abruptly, and I almost crash into the back of her. A male has walked out of a room ahead of us, and the terror I see on the woman’s face makes me angry on her behalf. She tries to turn, but the male spots her, a menacing smile breaking out across his face.

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