Page 52 of The Crown of the Last Fae Queen
“Excuse me?”
Vidar exhaled; his frustration was barely concealed behind his tense expression. He shook his head, as if he was tired of this conversation, and then motioned to the door. “Go on.”
“But …”
“You will not die in there, Kolfinna.” His words came out flat. “But you can be seriously injured, so don’t take these trials lightly.”
Her emotions were becoming messier by the second. She didn’t want to see this side of Vidar, and she didn’t want to accept that she was truly his daughter. He made it sound like he … he loved her. Like the wicked queen loved her. And like they used to be a happy little family.
All good parents sacrificed for their children. Wanted a better life for them. Were Aesileif, Vidar, the fae and elves, simply working for a better future for their children? For the fae and elf race? Similarly, the humans fought for their own race’s betterment.
She pushed those thoughts aside. She didn’t need all of this messy drama. All of this … confusion.
Kolfinna swallowed down the dread clawing up her throat, incapable of speaking for a moment. Breathing out deeply, she shoved the rune-marked door open, and without giving Vidar a second glance, entered the room.
A plain,windowless room without any furnishing awaited her. A simple, ominous sentence, etched in runes, was sprawled on the far wall.Escape the maze. That was it. Nothing else in the room indicated what her trial would be. But Kolfinna barely paid attention to the runes, or the possible trial; instead, her entire focus was pulled to a giant family portrait that hung on the left wall.
A woman with piercing blue eyes and sharp cheekbones that could slice anyone’s resolve to speak to her stared down at herthrough the painting. Her pale blonde hair was pulled behind her head, accentuating the gold and sapphire-studded crown on her head. She appeared severe, calculating, and unkind. She was clad in a heavily embroidered silver dress.
Vidar stood beside her in the painting; his armor was the same as usual—black-scaled, menacing, terrifying. His red eyes seemed to glow, the artist having perfectly captured his stoic glare. His wings were flared, stretching out protectively behind his wife. One of his hands was pressed around her waist, while in his other arm he held a little girl. She must have been around a year old. Her cheeks were red, her black hair curled down to her shoulders, and her eyes were a brilliant shade of pink. Tiny silver wings were visible behind her. A silver tiara studded with pink gems sat atop of her head.
Kolfinna stared at the painting, her stomach twisting into tight knots. How did Vidar find this? Had he created it recently? Or was this an old painting from a long, long time ago? And what was it doing here?
She stared harder at the woman; she was beautiful, young, and appeared every bit like the wicked queen she was supposed to be. It was hard to imagine that this woman—who looked like she never smiled—was her mother, or that she could love anyone or anything. She was too sharp. Too much like a sword who only knew how to slash and destroy.
A gong sounded loudly, familiarly; it rattled the walls, her body, and the floor.
Kolfinna ripped her attention away from the painting and braced herself. All at once, the room began spinning and her stomach clenched tightly as wave after wave of nausea knocked into her. Despite her mental preparation, she was knocked off her feet at the dizzying spin of the room. Colors blurred around her and she squeezed her eyes shut.
Just as quickly as it had begun, it stopped. When Kolfinna finally peeled her eyes open, she took in her new surroundings. Extremely tall walls of vines and leaves surrounded her on either side, and the tangled, root-infested, dirt path split into three different directions. Like the runes had foretold, she was in a maze.
Kolfinna rose to her feet slowly, her gaze skating from the ten-foot walls beside her to the gloomy, gray sky. First things first, she held her hand out to the ground and willed her mana to work through the roots, to make them bend at her will. They didn’t budge, no matter how much she tried to make them. A curse escaped from her mouth. Her nature magic wasn’t working; most of the trials in the Eventyrslot ruins had required her to break the runes binding her magic, but a quick glance at her surroundings and a quick feel for the rune magic told her there wasn’t anything like that here.
Hadn’t Vidar told her that she needed to learn how to wield her magic? What was the point if she couldn’t even use it?
Something growled from behind her and she whirled on her feet to find a demonic dog with glowing electric-blue eyes and long, pointed, blood-stained horns. Its mouth curled back to reveal a row of yellowed, sharp teeth.
Kolfinna’s eyes widened. She couldn’t fight with no magic and no weapon.
The creature lunged at her and she stifled a scream as she leaped back. The dog snapped its jaws at her, and white electricity stemmed from its paws and zapped her feet. A sharp pain shot through her ankles and she jumped further away. The hound tackled her to ground, its teeth sinking into her forearm.
She screamed. The pain blinded her for a moment, overtaking all of her senses, before panic kicked in. Adrenaline rushed through her veins and she punched the creature repeatedly. Its iron-like grip didn’t release from her flesh; itonly continued to dig deeper into her. Electricity zapped from its paws where they rested on her body, and white-hot pain shot through her in waves. Warm blood gushed down from her arm and the more she yanked it back, the more the dog ripped through the muscles.
She gritted through the pain and jammed one of her fingers into its eye-socket. The hound finally released her arm, only to snap at her face, but she shoved its jaw away in the last second, its sharp teeth almost tearing her nose off. Kolfinna jumped to her feet, breathing heavily, her arm limp against her side. The dog growled and lunged again, and she barely sprang away on time.
She ducked and dodged, her mind chaos. Everything hurt. Her arm, her body where the electricity burned her—her head felt light. But maybe that was the terror settling in.
Normally, she would be able to fight these kinds of creatures easily. She and Blár had faced a dreki without their powers in the ruins, so why was she having so much trouble against this creature? Had Vidar made this hound stronger than it should have been? Or was she terrified because she was alone?
No. She was stronger than this. She couldn’t be defeated by a single, stupid creature.
Kolfinna kicked the hound’s face when it drew closer, and its head whipped to the left, its paws digging into the earth as it lurched toward her again. She raised her arms to punch it again, when a thought struck her.
Her arm was healing.
Maybe her fae abilities didn’t work, but what if her elf abilities did?
Just as the dog was close enough to snap at her arm, she released a tendril of her dark shadow magic. It whipped out of her easily and wrapped around the hound’s mouth. Flicking herwrist, she snapped the creature’s neck. The hound whimpered as it crumpled to the ground, its eyes slowly dulling.
