Page 63 of The Lost Fae
As the long hall gives way to the large open rooms, we slip into the large foyer. The cages Lincoln and I had been kept in are raised to the ceiling once more. Multiple people are shoved into each cage, none of them moving. Only when I catch the ruffle of blonde messy hair inside one of those cages does my heartbeat pound harder within my ears.
Cordelia's throne remains as it was, with the exception of the second throne that has been set beside it. The shadow of her crown follows her as she stands, abruptly ending her conversation with the traitorous prince at her side.
The Fae fucker.
Kai lounges back in his seat, forcing his expression into nothingness. His gaze avoids mine. Avoids all of us, really.
She doesn’t, though. The queen’s tone slices into the silence.
"What is the meaning of this?"
Every guard stationed around the room reacts to her rage. They react. As do we.
Barnabus storms forward. He moves like water around the guards burling toward him. He’s quick. So quick that he’s in front of the queen in seconds. Whatever scathing question on her tongue hardly leaves her plump red lips before his fist soars through the air and hits its mark square. It’s a slap of sound and a gasp of air as he rattles her. Cordelia's loose blonde hair falls across her face as her head snaps to the side with a scream. Waves of heat roll off of her into us as her anger rises.
Kai takes a deep breath in, but doesn’t move.
"Is this the queen?" Barnabus leans back and laughs, his wings ruffling as the sound rattles through him.
"Barnabus!" Lincoln yells as two guards slam him into the wall. “The Prince!” he struggles to shout between my clawing nails and rising magic that is tearing the men off of him.
With a flick of Barnabus’ wrist, he motions for the group of bandits to hurry up the small dais. Many of them wrap their hands around Kai's arms and wrists, holding him still. Kai remains sitting, looking up at them before he slowly turns his head to Lincoln and myself.
Cordelia growls, her palm glowing white-yellow. She cuts her hand through the air and Barnabus’ body lifts off the ground. He bellows in surprise, but tumbles to the ground within seconds. Boots storm over glossy floors. Swords are pulled from belts. Guards encircle us, only inches away from the edge of their blades striking out against our skin, the bandits interjecting themselves between us.
We’re surrounded.
"Briar." Cordelia's eyes glow, flicking in sync with the magic that lights her palms. "I'm so glad to see you, sister. We've waited for your return."
Above us, the metal cages creak with movement but I can't turn my face away from the queen even for an instant. Not even once to see if it's Jase looking down on me now.
My heart hurts, but my anger is too loud to think about the painful pounding in my chest.
"There is time for you to step down from your throne willingly..." I start. "Give the true heir the crown."
She chuckles dryly and it grates against my nerves, ringing inside of my ears. "I worked for my throne.I’ve killed for it.If you want it, you'll have to be just as powerful and bad as I am to take it from me.”
Just as bad as her? I don’t want to be just as bad as her. But maybe some things are in your blood. Some things can't be helped.
I reach to my right and pull a blade off the belt of one the bandits. It balances in my palm easily and I know with certainty that Lincoln's skill is what will help me wield it.
He’s mine. And I’m his. We’re one in this.
"I'd love to," I hiss and point the sword her way.
"Lovely." Cordelia raises her hand and a ball of white-hot power shoots toward me. Her fire blazes over me with unbearable heat, but I step nimbly out of the way. Her small act sends everyone around us into motion. Shadow guards leap on top of Barnabus’s men, trying to cut through them.
Everything is a clatter of magic and fury.
The world around me becomes a blur of movement and dangerous weapons. I charge forward through it, gritting my teeth. My boots stomp up the steps to the dais as Cordelia spins to grab a blade from her nearest guard. I'm not even certain she knows how to wield it.
Perhaps she doesn't need to know, because the sword itself lights up with magic. When our blades meet, sparks fly in sizzling droplets and fizzle out on the tile floors. I shove her off my weapon. We meet again without any time wasted. Her sword lifts high, but mine is there to block her strike.
Guards break through our troop of Lost Fae, but are met with all of Lincoln's fury. He hasn't grabbed a weapon yet, only dodging others and snatching them up in his hands. I've never seen him look so fierce, and I'm mildly disappointed I can't take the time to admire his rage.
Instead, I thrust Cordelia back, our swords meeting again and again and again. The power of her blade spits fiery embers onto my skin as they collide. Their light dies as they sear into my flesh and burn away any hair on my arms. I hiss through my teeth, but never move back an inch. I can't. If I do it will be the death of me.
And this kingdom.
