Page 5 of Wrath of the Fae Queen
We pass through a town built into trees almost as tall as Appleshield Castle. Balconies wrap around each house that juts out of the trunks, and many staircases and bridges connect them, all filled with fae leering down at us. Their features morph into something demonic as they scream insults at me.
Another tosses a missile, a purple, apple-like fruit that flies straight for my head, passing between the bars. I throw myself to one side, giving it the slightest tap with an air wield to throw it off a collision course. It gives a wet splat behind me and the scent of decay rises from it.
They are pummeling me with rotten fruit.
Most of it is shriveled and brown. Some pieces are coated in furry mold. I cannot avoid all the blows, and my flesh becomes bruised, tender and sticky. Juice runs from my hair and soaks my clothes. My cage keeps tipping violently as the bearers are struck with just as many missiles. They jump and cry out with each strike. I don’t know if their magic has been taken away or if they are too frightened to use it to shield themselves.
The procession stops in the center of the town and the fae fall silent as Titania climbs out of her litter. She raises her hands high. “My good people of the Spring Court, by now you would have heard that your king is dead, because of her!” She turns and points a finger straight at me. “Aldrin not only abandoned his people for this woman, to fight her war in the human lands, but turned his back on this entire realm! For what? A pretty face? A large pair of breasts? Perhaps a set of legs that spread easily?”
Titania pauses and the crowd laughs at me.
“Shewas the death of him. It was inherworld that the Assassins of Belladonna, hired by the King of the WinterCourt, caught up to him. Aldrin died in a muddy ditch in an insignificant world devoid of magic.”
Titania planned all of this. Her followers likely ran ahead of us to whip up the mob. It only takes a few enraged civilians to start a riot. For many others to get swept up into the current, believing they are a part of the majority. It is so easy to become convinced that rumors are facts when enough people believe them. Those in the crowd who don’t agree are effectively silenced by numbers.
“Aldrin abandoned you, but I will not!” Titania screams. “I will fight for the Spring Court againstallour enemies!”
When the procession moves again, more fruit is tossed at me, until the rotten flesh piles up in my cage and every inch of my skin is coated in it. Until I feel like an entire herd of wild horses has trampled over me. Somehow, I know that I will have to endure this specific humiliation for days to come.
We pass through two more towns before we stop for the night. At the first, they stare at us in stony silence and not a single missile is thrown. Their population is mostly low fae, who suffer the most with the magic receding from these dying lands. At the second town, they toss stones alongside the fruit and the guards are forced to throw up air shields around me.
If Titania didn’t want me alive, I might have died under their hatred.
The entire time, Aldrin’s simmering fury is my constant companion. He keeps me going, with little encouragements and the warmth of his soul wrapped around mine. He stays in my head so I don’t have to endure this alone. I can’t do it without him.
The entire cage rocks dangerously as the litter-bearers bring it to the ground beneath a canopy of immense trees, with sparse starlight seeping through. Soldiers erect their sleeping quartersout of tree roots, dragging the fleshy limbs out of the ground. They interweave them at an angle to create a tent-like structure. Small saplings spring up from the seeds littered all over the clearing, growing until their limbs intertwine with the roots and spread out across the structure. When their leaves and blooms unfurl, they cover the surface like a canvas, filling any gaps.
A chill seeps into my bones from the cold, sticky fruit juices. I have nothing to protect me from the elements. No curtains or blanket. Only piles of rot. Even my litter-bearers are free to roam by the fire, eat with the others and erect their lodgings. Some have wet hair. They clearly found somewhere to wash.
Until now, it felt like we were in this together.
In the distance, the voices of soldiers ring out as they build a near-palace for Titania to sleep in. The trunks and branches of many trees are pulled from their original shapes, weaving together to create the walls and ceiling of a large dome. Strings of huge, bell-shaped flowers hang over the openings for the door and windows, and hundreds of fire orbs float around the space. There must be more inside, hinted at by the warm glow within.
A deep hatred for the High Chancellor rolls through me.
She sows discord between her people purely for her own gain. She fans the fires of prejudice. It is disgusting.
I find myself stalking around my cage, kicking the fruit out between the bars. Footsteps have me whirling on my heel toward an approaching guard. His long dark hair is pulled up into a topknot, and he has a short-cropped beard. It is the intensity of his bright blue eyes that forces me back a step. They flick from my matted hair, to my dirty skin and clothes, to the filthy space around me with sheer disapproval. Like it is my fault I am such a mess.
Our eyes connect as he reaches the door, grabbing the lock. I fumble back until I slam into the bars at my rear. He is a hugebear of a man and could easily overpower me. Fear spikes within me at the thought of being caged and alone with him.
His thick eyebrows pinch in the middle as his expression darkens at my reaction.
“Jasper, my dear,” Titania’s voice rings out. My eyes dart back to her miniature palace, where she stands in the doorway, flanked by Torin and Florian. “Don’t waste good food on the little human. She already has plenty of it in her cage.”
My gaze lowers to Jasper’s other hand. He holds a plate with a thick piece of flatbread piled with juicy meat and curried vegetables. My stomach growls despite the rancid scents around me. Jasper’s body locks up, and death burns in his eyes.
He doesn’t turn back to Titania, but speaks to her in a surprisingly even tone. “The food in this cage is inedible, especially for a human.”
Titania flicks her long black fingernails. “Then perhaps she’ll get luckier tomorrow, and someone will throw something at her that shecaneat.” She laughs and steps through the doorway as her son holds open the curtain for her. She glances back over her shoulder, her eyes glowing with eerie flames in the darkness. “Jasper, Iwillknow if you feed her, and I will be very disappointed. You know what happens when I am disappointed.”
The guard stiffens and closes his eyes for a long time. When he composes himself, he pins me with that imposing stare once more. “This is larger than you or me. But I will get something to you tonight. I, for one, have not forgotten what it was like to live under Aldrin’s rule.”
He motions for another guard to take that steaming plate of food, exchanging a few words with him, and I watch with longing as it disappears. The lock clicks and the door of the cage protests loudly as it is swung open, drawing my attention to Jasper’sbroad shoulders filling up the entire doorway. Torin is stomping through the campsite, narrowed eyes homed in on the guard.
“Before you say a single damned thing, Torin, I am taking your mother’s captive to relieve herself in privacy.” Jasper shoots him a dark look. “And no, you will not be coming with us tosupervise.”
Torin’s lips twist as a nasty gleam flares in his eyes. “The prisoner is not to be disturbed,” he says in a sickly-sweet tone.
