Page 41 of The Crown of the Last Fae Queen
“You are part elf, remember? Let your shadows and your light overpower this fae sword’s control.”
Rakel sprang back, and the sword began its relentless attacks once more, jerking Kolfinna’s body this way and that way. In the back of her mind, she tried to muster her shadow magic, but she didn’t know how to do that. The shadows very rarely came when she wanted them to. It was only when she was in a bind that they revealed themselves. When she was near death.
She had never called them forth on her own. Not truly.
Please. As her body lurched forward and backward, clashing blades against Rakel and Freyja, she tried to grasp onto the dark magic that was always beneath the surface. It didn’t come to her freely like her fae powers did. She beckoned it forward, eager to feel the cold, strange magic.
Mana singed her fingertips, warming her skin. She could feel it swirling in her flesh, pouring into her veins and strengthening her. And then, like something had snapped into place, shadows sprang from her hands, staining her skin with blotches of purplish-black ink. She stopped in her tracks, the shadows writhing from her body and consuming the sword.
The moment she could control her body, she flung the sword as far away from herself as she could. It crashed to the dirt floor, the dark connection between herself and the evil sword severing in a split second.
She collapsed to the ground in a heap. She was drained. Her muscles cramped and hurt from being forced to fight in a way she wasn’t used to, and her head felt heavy, like it would explode. She rolled onto her knees and gagged, feeling like she would vomit everywhere.
“You’re all right.” Freyja kneeled beside her, rubbing circles onto her back. “You did well.”
Kolfinna breathed out shakily, streams of saliva pooling from her mouth. She didn’t want to retch, but she could feel her stomach clenching tightly. She grimaced, and then proceeded to throw up violently. All that she had eaten that morning came up in partially digested bits of eggs, bread, and fruit.
“Oh, dear.” Freyja stared at the vomit and her own complexion paled. She swiftly rose to her feet, covering her mouth to hide her gagging. “Forgive me?—”
“You did well,” Rakel said, coming to stand in front of her. “You were able to hold your?—”
Freyja promptly vomited all over the ground.
Rakel turned to her sharply, mouth agape. “What the—Are you okay?”
“I—Yes.” Freyja’s face was rather green and she covered her lips with her hands, her shoulder hunching together. She glanced over at Kolfinna, then to the piles of vomit on the ground again, and heaved. “Apologies, I?—”
Agnarr blinked back in revulsion as the poor lady threw up again. Kolfinna momentarily forgot about her woes as she came up to her feet with a wobble, glancing between the fae generals and then at her father, who stared at the entire scene through theslits in his helmet. She wasn’t sure if he was frustrated, peeved, or amused. It was hard to tell with him.
“Are you all right?” Kolfinna asked without thinking. Freyja was one of her enemies, she was aware, but she couldn’t help the concern that leaked into her voice. The lady was with child, after all, so maybe … maybe this was too much for her. Seeing and smelling this vomit. With her new fae senses awakened, Kolfinna could strongly smell the foul, acidic smell of the vomit. It made even her own stomach turn over again.
Freyja swayed on her feet, her nostrils flaring as the scent seemed to hit her again. She breathed out shakily, choking back a gag. “I’m—all right?—”
Agnarr cursed under his breath and came to her side. “You don’t look?—”
She retched again, this time all over his boots. His jaw locked in place as he stared, in horror and disgust, at his now soiled shoes.
“Oh.” Freyja brought a hand to her mouth.
“Here.” Agnarr pulled a handkerchief out of his uniform pocket and handed it to her; she quickly cleaned her mouth, her body trembling.
“Well …” Rakel cast a worried look at the fae female, and then turned to Kolfinna. “I think it’s probably best that we call it a day for today. What do you think, Commander?”
Vidar slowly walked over to the discarded sword. He picked it up effortlessly and slid it into the empty scabbard on his waist. It seemed to belong there, matching seamlessly with his dark attire. “We will try again tomorrow,” he said, and though his demeanor remained as neutral as ever, she could hear the impatient irritation in his voice. “But with the tower.”
The tower?
Kolfinna was sure the confusion played out on her face, but no one answered her unasked question. Agnarr was too busykicking off the vomit staining his boots, Freyja had her head tipped back to better breathe in fresh air, and Rakel was looking between them all with a frown.
“Rakel, take her back to her room,” Vidar said.
“Wait, but what’s the tower?” Kolfinna asked.
The sunlight glinted off the scales of his dark armor as he stepped away from her. An ominous air stirred around them. “You will see.”
Kolfinna shivered, but she didn’t even have the energy to protest.
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