Ambrosia (Frost and Nectar, #2)(52)

“Only I can protect you from the demons who want to harm you. Only I can protect you from the demons who want to starve your children. Only I have the mettle and the strength of spirit to do what is required, even if what is required is ugly. Only I am willing to do the dirty work because I know what happens when women are weak,” she shouted. “I learned that from my sister.” She turned, pacing across the dais. “She was the only person I’ve ever trusted, ever loved. And all of you forgot she existed. ”

Her voice echoed off the frozen arches high above us, and she seemed to realize she was going off script. She turned back to us, her eyes wild. “I wasn’t able to protect her from King Torin and his wicked ways, but I will protect you. I will not make the same mistake again.”

I could feel it around me--the energy of the crowd that drank up every word she said. Every eye I caught seethed with hatred.

I bit the finger that clamped over my mouth. I needed at least a minute to defend myself, to explain, to try to convince them that Aeron and I had nothing to do with the kingdom freezing.

Soldiers took me away, and I screamed at the crowd that Moria could sit on the throne and end all of this. She could bring the spring. She had that power. But no one was listening to me, and the soldiers dragged me outside more roughly than they had before. My mind swam with panic, and I could hardly breathe.

The mob was shoving me, jostling me from side to side, and I wondered if I would even make it outside to the cages, or if they were about to beat me to death right here on the stone floor, but the soldiers closed in around me. I was grateful for their temporary protection, even though I knew they were only keeping me alive long enough to hang me in an icy cage so I could die in public, a warning to others.

My fear rose to a roar in my mind until I felt myself almost separating from my body. I felt it as if it were happening from a distance to someone else—a poor woman shoved through the halls, outside into the icy air. A little broken doll pushed into an icy cage. I knew she could feel the stinging cold on her skin, but I didn’t feel it myself. Distantly, I heard the sound of chains scraping against stone as they raised the cage up the dark castle walls. Here, she would freeze as a warning to others, a message to keep the kingdom in line.

Only when the chains stopped moving against the stones did I slam back into my own mind again, cold horror stealing my breath. A biting wind whipped over me, tearing at my hair.

A fae could survive out here for maybe a week or two, but a human like me? I didn’t think I had long at all.

At least they’d taken the handcuffs off, and I folded into my cloak as much as I could, trying to protect my face and hands under the thick wool.

From a cage above me, I could hear Aeron screaming my name.





33





AVA




The queen held me aloft in thorny coils, my feet dangling inches above the castle’s stones.

With her powerful magic, she’d tightened them around me, binding my arms to my chest. Fear raked its claws through me. The queen’s power was stronger than mine, and I wasn’t sure we’d ever get free of this place. Panic pressed against my ribs.

I whipped my head around, looking for Torin, but I saw no signs of him.

Washed in silver, Queen Mab looked victorious. Her son, Morgant, stood behind her, his muscles and clothes shredded by my prickly vines, blood streaking down his body. His dark wings hung still behind him, and he held Torin’s sword. His amber eyes locked on me, his chin lowered.

The night wind toyed with the queen’s hair as I struggled against her cage of brambles. My breath heaved in my lungs as the queen prowled closer.

“I was trying to tell you something, Isavell, but you ripped the floor out from under us.”

“That’s my name, then, is it?”

As she drew near, I could see that she wasn’t feeling quite as victorious as I’d first thought. She held her chin high and her back straight, but her mouth was tight with tension. And close up, I could see the tightness of her hunched shoulders.

The queen was scared. But what was she afraid of? My gaze flicked to Morgant, and I read in him the same rigid posture, fists clenched and veins popping on his forearms.

“Before I throw you from the tower, you must know what happened.” Her voice faltered a little. Was she scared of me?

The corner of her mouth twitched. “We were supposed to bring our families and discuss a future alliance. Torin’s mother proposed an engagement between our heirs. I’d always wanted my Unseelie heirs on the throne of Faerie. Of course, I accepted,” she said sharply, like I was reprimanding her for her decision. “But then they asked me to remove the frostbitten curse from the kingdom.” She bared her teeth. “It wasn’t my curse to remove. That was Modron, the one who looks back. She’s the one who loathes the Seelie.”

“What are you talking about?”

“No one wanted her around,” Queen Mab said, ignoring my question. “Can you blame them? The woman was a poison, spilling everyone’s secrets. Long ago, the king banished her from court, and she unleashed the frozen mantle of winter on the kingdom. She sent the Erlkings and the dragons from her home in the woods to torment the Seelie. They must kill her to lift the curse. It has nothing to do with me.”

I clenched my teeth, scanning the shadow-drenched battlements for signs of Torin. “Why are you telling me all this?”