A Poison Dark and Drowning (Kingdom on Fire #2)(25)

“My queen, we humbly request use of your roads to return to the mortals’ realm. We did not mean to trespass upon your Cornwall lands,” Blackwood said.

Mab sighed, got off her throne, and traipsed down toward us. She wore no corset that I could see, only a billowing white gown that appeared to be made from spider silk. One capped sleeve slipped from her pale shoulder, giving me a glimpse of far more of the queen than I wanted. Mab stalked over to Blackwood and waved her jam-smeared butter knife in his face.

“You know there has to be a toll, my pet. I can’t have people running willy-nilly across my lands. What would happen then?” She narrowed her eyes and pouted. “I’d have to eat them all is what.”

“If Your Majesty wishes, what might the toll be?” Maria asked. The girl had no bloody fear. Mab grinned at her.

“This one speaks to me. Perhaps she can be a pet.” She reached for Maria, and I stepped in front of her. Mab scowled. “No. Not you. You’re too tall to help pull my walnut carriage.”

I hated faeries.

Taking a cue from Blackwood, I tried to be my most polite. “Majesty, I am Henrietta Howel, the burning rose of England, the sorcerers’ prophesied one destined to bring about the Ancients’ destruction.” Faeries liked long, showy titles. I curtsied. “We are your allies in this war. Giving us safe passage through your lands would illustrate the nobility of your character…and fully highlight and complement your matchless beauty.” Queen Mab beamed, blackberry jam smeared all over her teeth.

“I like this tall one,” Mab said, poking me in the stomach.

“Your Majesty is perfection, as generous as you are beautiful,” Blackwood said, his voice silk. He nodded at me. Apparently I’d done well.

Mab studied Maria again—I think she was serious about taking the girl—but Maria patted her ax, and the queen turned away. Of course. Faeries detested iron.

“You aren’t like that mean Imperator of yours, Georgy. That’s why I like you. Did you know he came to see me last week and demanded I open my roads to his Order? ‘Easier to get sorcerers about the country,’ he said. ‘Takes less time and costs fewer lives,’ he said. Well.” Her cobwebby hair rose in her passion. “I don’t even let my sister use my roads, so why does he think he gets a right?”

“We are allies in this war, Majesty,” Blackwood said smoothly.

“I’ve already given so many of my lovely subjects to the stupid war. Do you know that eighteen hundred goblins were slaughtered near Manchester, not two weeks before? And still the Imperator demands more.” Her eyes glinted with tears, presumably for her fallen soldiers. It made me soften toward the queen.

“My apologies, Majesty, for any indelicacy.” Blackwood sounded sincere, and Mab appeared mollified.

“That doesn’t change things, though. There has to be a toll.” She huffed, and considered. “Heartbreak. The pains of the heart are so delicious to me. That would be a token, yes, a very fair one.” She began to sniff at us, one after the other. She paused before me. Oh damn. “Mmm, such complexity.” Mab stood on tiptoe and brushed a hand through my hair; I kept still. “Women’s hearts are more complex than men’s, I find. Less virile, less passionate, but so utterly complicated.” She trailed a delicate pink tongue across her bottom lip. “How delicious.”

I had to force myself not to push her off. My toes curled with the effort.

“What do you want from me, Majesty?” I would not be afraid.

“A piece of your heart,” she cooed, patting my cheek with her small, dry hand. Her eyes glittered, animal and wild. “One of those moments that gives you a scrap of hope on a gray day.”

My mind rebelled. What would she take? A stolen moment on the moors with Rook? An evening playing chess with Agrippa? How would she take it? Mab must have read the resistance in my eyes.

“You won’t get out of here otherwise.” Her voice was sweet to the point of insult.

“Perhaps I might—” Blackwood began, but Mab dismissed him with a wave.

“You’ve nothing to interest me, Georgy,” the queen said flatly. “Your feelings are always so mundane.” Blackwood tightened his jaw; suppressed anger danced in his eyes. We had to finish this.

“Fine,” I said shortly. “Do what you must.” I clasped my hands together so she wouldn’t see them shaking. Mab put her fingers to my lips. I was preparing myself when Magnus strode forward.

“Majesty.” He gave an elaborate bow, as deep as Blackwood’s had been. In his naval coat and breeches, with his skin golden from the sun, Magnus looked like a small scrap of light in this underworld. “You say a young man’s heart is more virile. Why not taste mine?”

“No, Magnus,” I said quickly, but Mab’s nostrils flared. She crept closer and nestled against him, twining her small hand through his wild auburn hair. The queen pressed her cheek to Magnus’s chest.

“Such pain.” Mab swooned and chattered her teeth. “How did I miss it?” She wrapped her arms around his neck, her feet dangling off the ground. Magnus grunted. “Oh, I have to taste this. Give me a memory,” she whispered in his ear, her voice turning guttural. Magnus flinched.

“Please. Take one of mine,” I said.

“No, no. I want this.” Mab kissed Magnus’s temple. “Such a beautiful face. One of the most beautiful I can recall. I would love to see you chained with all my other pets.”