Page 113 of The Witch Queen

“Hazel,” he murmurs low as he stalks toward her. I take a few steps back, knowing we should turn and leave but not able to. To his credit, Thorne stays by my side, letting me lead our recon mission.

The woman’s eyes drop to the ground and her shoulders slump. The fae male reaches her, pinning her wrists tightly in his grasp so that she’s forced to drop her laundry. He pushes her against the wall and fondles her breasts. Disgust and shame cross her features, but she does nothing, likely too used to the abuse to stand up for herself. The male unbuttons his pants, and I’ve seen enough. I freeze his limbs and force the air from his lungs. Thorne tenses beside me, knowing we’re about to be discovered and preparing himself for the fight. Hazel’s body is freed, and she stares in shock and fear around her, not understanding what’s caused the fae to halt his assault and go red in the face from lack of air. Instead of screaming for help, she darts away, and I let out a sigh of relief as I allow the male to breathe again, though I don’t release his limbs.

“Nicely done,” Thorne murmurs in my ear, and I can’t stop my jaw from dropping open in shock. I expected him to chastise me, to tell me we don’t have time for this or express disgust that I would take away someone’s agency in this way, but he doesn’t. Instead, he conjures a dagger of light and steps up to the male before slicing him across the throat without hesitation. The male slumps, and Thorne catches his body, angling him so that not a single drop of blood falls to the floor. With strength that makes me weak in the knees, Thorne hauls the man’s body into the room he exited and drops him unceremoniously. Thankfully, it’s an empty laundry room. “Can you lock it with your metal magic?” he asks as he returns to my side. I do as he bids, my body humming in appreciation of Thorne. Something about seeing him so willing to kill, with no hesitation, deepens my feelings for this male. It’s not the violence of it, but rather the knowledge that he can share theburdenof the crown with me. For the first time in my entire life, someone killed for me,sparedme the act that darkens my soul each time I must do it. “Let’s move quickly, before someone finds him,” is all he says, grabbing my hand and walking us away.

We continue our search, looking through every room on the first floor, finding nothing, before moving to the second and third floors. The upper levels are even more crowded, and it’s slow work, our bodies ducking and pressing against the wall every few minutes to avoid detection. After searching every inch of the manor and finding nothing but rebels, we return to the small laundry room where we stashed the dead male.

“Where are they?” I whisper in frustration, running my hand through my hair. Thorne keeps his cool, thinking through what we might have missed. Something prickles my awareness, like the feeling I get when someone needs to enter or exit Thayaria. But it’s muted, and I can’t quite pinpoint what I’m feeling. I close my eyes and extend my awareness to the mist, but nothing’s out of the ordinary. I shake it away, focusing my attention instead on the mission at hand, though a feeling of dread continues to fill my stomach. “Let’s look again, and this time keep our eyes open for a hidden door or anything we missed,” I offer.

Thorne takes my hand and leads the way out of the room. I lock it behind us again, then we slowly make our way back down the first level hallway. It’s too crowded now, the house filling with more and more rebels. We can’t navigate this, and I’m about to aerstep us out of the house to regroup when I hear a human woman say, “I’ll take this food down to the prisoners.” My eyes dart toward the voice and I see a large guard grunt and pass a tray of water and bread to a human woman with blue eyes and mousy brown hair. She’s curvy, like me.

“I know her,” Thorne whispers quietly in my ear. “She was at the Oakton manor and escorted us to Krantz.”

We follow her closely, surprised when she heads outside. She walks to the back of the manor, to a set of external cellar doors she opens with a grunt before carefully making her way down the steps and into the dark space of the cellar. I can’t believe we didn’t think to check the back of the house. We follow her down the stairs into the cellar, and as soon as we’re fully in shadow Thorne’s magic disappears, though it’s dark enough that I only see a faint outline of him. We’re making hand gestures, trying to align on a plan in silence, when the woman speaks to someone, and we freeze.

“I’m getting you out of here.”

“And why would you do that, you traitorous piece of shit?” Fionn hisses back, and relief washes through me that we found them and that he’s alive.

“Because I stopped believing in the rebel cause after the attack on Arberly,” the woman whispers quietly. “That wasn’t political protest, that was violence against the innocents, motivated only by a desire for power.” I glance at Thorne, who gives me a shrug. We silently decide to stay where we are to see how this situation plays out.

“What’s your plan?” Fionn asks the woman skeptically. “The iron arrow barely scratched me, so I have enough magic that I healed a bit before they locked us back up with iron. But my friend took a direct hit, and she’s unconscious. We need to be aerstepped out. She won’t be able to run.”

Hearing that Silene is gravely injured brings out Thorne’s rash side, and he jumps out of the shadows, wrapping Fionn in a tight embrace. I have no choice but to follow, and my eyes immediately stop on Silene’s too-pale body. She’s chained to the wall with iron shackles and slumps on the ground, the rise and fall of her chest barely visible. She’s not in good shape, and a gentle probe with my magic tells me there’s no chance I’ll be able to heal her here.

“Your-your mm-m-majesty,” Fionn and Silene’s would-be savior mumbles, eyes wide in terror at my sudden appearance. I hold up both of my hands in supplication, praying I can keep her from bolting in fear.

“We’re only here to save our friends. I heard your conversation with Fionn. If you truly wish to help, I’ll take your partnership gladly and will consider you a friend to the crown when this is over.” Hands trembling, she nods, then realizes she should bow, so she attempts a feeble curtsy. I think I see Fionn’s lips twitch.

“Yes, Your Majesty. I’m here to help,” she says, voice feeble.

“What’s your name?”

“Allyssia,” she responds.

“Then, Allyssia, do you have keys to the iron chains? We’ll need to get them out before I can aerstep us away.”

“I don’t have them, but I know where they are.” Fionn rolls his eyes and tries to say something, but I hold up my hand to stop him.

“Take us there. Fionn, we’ll be right back. See if you can at least get Silene to drink some of this water while we’re gone.” Reluctantly, I leave Silene behind as we follow Allyssia out of the cellar. At the top step, I grab her arm to stop her. “He can use light channeling to make us invisible,” I explain, nodding my head toward Thorne. “You should loop your arm through mine to stay close to us.”

Allyssia nods and links her arm through mine. Together, the three of us make our way back into the manor. She leads us up the main staircase to the second floor, then turns right and walks down a long hallway that ends in a locked door Thorne and I had unlocked and relocked earlier. I see her fumbling, likely trying to find her key to the door. I squeeze her arm to signal I can help, then force the metal in the lock to move, squeezing again to tell her she can open the door. Thankfully, she understands, and we quickly sneak into the office.

The room is small, with a too-big desk and several chairs surrounding it. It looks like a meeting ended abruptly and everyone left quickly. There are papers everywhere, and a crate in the corner contains stolen thayar. Thorne releases his magic, and Allyssia goes straight to the desk, searching through each of the drawers frantically.

“I know he keeps the keys in here, I just don’t know exactly where,” she murmurs, and I’m about to step in to help her when she holds up a ring of keys and grins in satisfaction.

“Great work,” I whisper. “Let’s get out of here.”

There’s a noise on the other side of the door, and Thorne’s eyes meet mine quickly before he conceals us again. I reach out and find Allyssia, then pull her to me and try to aerstep us out of the room. But just as the tingling sensation reaches my neck, it fizzles out, like it’s been doused with water. Thorne senses my fear, and our eyes lock. I mouthI can’t aerstepto him, and he slowly guides Allyssia and me to a corner of the room, placing his body in front of ours and conjuring a dagger of light, all while keeping us hidden. I try one more time to aerstep as the door clicks open, and once again am met with resistance.

Krantz walks in, and he looks more unkempt than I’ve ever seen him, even when he was in the palace cells. His eyes are bloodshot, hair greasy. He walks to his desk and sits down, placing his head in his hands and sighing. He stays like that for a few minutes before looking back up and sorting through the papers that litter the top of the desk. I spot a drawer that Allyssia left open and tense, praying he won’t see it. I don’t want to have to fight our way out, not with the shape that Silene is in and whatever is preventing me from aerstepping. Unfortunately, the gods have never answered my pleas.

Krantz notices the open drawer and immediately looks up and scans the room. He walks to the crate of thayar, plucking a stalk out of the box and chewing on it. Then he pulls a small vial out of his pocket and shakes out a few drops of a dark red liquid into his mouth. His pupils dilate, and an eeriewrongnesssettles over him.

His gaze immediately falls on us, and his lips lift in a menacing smirk. “I thought we might be seeing you today, Queen Laurel.”

Laurel

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