Ambrosia (Frost and Nectar, #2)(37)

A murmur of assent rippled through the crowd. As I looked around the hall, the crowd seemed completely enraptured.

Moria raised her hand. “My sister, Milisandia, always said it was the Unseelie who should fear us,” she went on, pacing over the icy dais. “Before she went missing, she warned me that the day would come when we would need to fight them. She always said we must make war on the Unseelie and their treasonous allies within our court. They attacked our royal family, cursing them all. They have cursed our kingdom for centuries, saddling us with famine, with cold. So do not blame King Torin when you can see your children’s ribs and their gaunt cheeks. He may not be here, but he is not an Unseelie, is he? He doesn’t love them, does he? He would not leave us here to die in a famine unless he had a very good reason. And we must stand together against our ancient enemies.”

Something wasn’t adding up about her speech. On the surface, it seemed like she was trying to protect the king from their anger at his absence, to give them another scapegoat. And the people you called demons for the past several hundred years were a perfect scapegoat.

Except I happened to know that she hated Torin.

Why would she want to protect the man she accused of murdering her sister?





23





AVA




Even in this little prison, the seeds of my revenge were starting to bloom—my one and only reason for being. The meaning that illuminated my life.

I didn’t think I’d ever get back to my old life, or that I’d see Shalini again. But I could try to kill the queen, and that was enough to bring a smile to my face.

And Morgant was right. Every Unseelie had magic—even me.

Rays of light shot through the leaves high above, dappling the gnarled wooden floor with flecks of gold. As I stared up at the branches, I pictured Torin’s sorrowful blue eyes as he sat on the bed next to me. When he was thinking of his mom. For some reason, my magic worked best when I was thinking of him.

I felt the power move up my body. Tendrils of warmth sprouted beneath my feet, curled up my legs and thighs, and spilled into my stomach and chest. When I was using my magic, I didn’t feel alone because I felt the tree’s life, its consciousness. I imagined the branches shifting and moving above me, letting in more sunlight.

I could feel its soul.

The boughs over my head groaned, parting, and sunlight washed over me. I tilted my head back. The warmth felt glorious on my skin, a gift from this tree where I made my new home.

I breathed in deeply, soaking in the rays. Tingles rippled down my shoulder blades.

And yet—

Even with this power, I still felt as if something about my magic was trapped inside me. My power was magma locked under the frozen earth.

When I heard the sound of metal sliding against metal, I pulled the magic back inside me. The tree branches shifted into place, filling the room with shadows once more. A few leaves fluttered down onto the cell floor.

Morgant pushed the door open and hefted a little copper tub into the cell. He dropped it onto the floor, along with a pair of fresh clothes and a bar of soap.

“Has the Queen decided I’m allowed to wash now?” I asked.

“I didn’t ask her.”

“Then why are you taking it upon yourself to make me more comfortable?”

“Because you are one of us,” he said.

A bolt of guilt shot through me. I was one of them because I’d killed Torin.

“You could have healed him, couldn’t you?” I asked .

Morgant shrugged. “Who am I to defy the Queen’s explicit orders?”

My jaw tightened. “You and your mother have a real fucked-up relationship.”

“Her methods can seem brutal,” he said, “but she has the best interests of her family at heart. The Seelie have been trying to invade our kingdom for decades now. Torin sent an assassin who killed her son. My brother. Mab is the reason we remain a sovereign kingdom. But our success depends on her ruthlessness in protecting us. Without her, we’d be overrun by the Seelie.”

A lump rose in my throat. “She told me if I killed the king, I would be released. I thought you all were bound by oaths.”

His amber eyes pierced the darkness. “Perhaps that’s what she intended at the time before you tried to kill her. But you are alive for one reason only, and that is because someday, you might be useful to us.”

He yanked the door open and slammed it behind him. I heard the lock slide into place.

Sighing, I turned back to the thorny plants that climbed over the tree trunk and the stone walls. I imagined Morgant standing there in the hall, watching as Torin died before him.

Under my control, the vines started to move and rise. I closed my eyes, feeling my thoughts mingle with those of the tree that had become my home, relaxing in the warmth of sunlight on its canopy. From where I lay, I could feel the roots burrowing into the earth, twined with a delicate network of mycelium and fungi that spread beneath the kingdom. I breathed in, exhilarated. Every living thing here was connected, interacting. Communicating.

But a heavy burden pressed on the tree. The stones were crushing its boughs, trapping it beneath their weight. Power surged through me, but my chest felt weighted down with rocks.

My eyes snapped open, and I gasped for breath.

I wasn’t sure why it mattered, but I kept wondering what they’d done with Torin’s body. I had a horrific feeling they’d make a spectacle out of him. That’s what fae kings did, place their enemy’s head on a pike and hang their body from the castle gates.