A Poison Dark and Drowning (Kingdom on Fire #2)(26)

If she tried to put him in chains, I’d have her heart.

“I prefer other forms of diversion to chains, ma’am,” he said. His reserve didn’t falter.

Mab laughed, the tinkling sound of breaking glass. “Your pain is so exquisite, my little warrior.” She passed a hand along his arm. “It’s the taste of someone unused to defeat.”

Magnus closed his eyes. “If you want something, Majesty, please take it,” he said, his voice tight.

“Then give me a most cherished memory,” she whispered in his ear.

Blackwood caught my eye. “Don’t move,” he breathed.

“Quickly, if you please,” Magnus said. Mab touched his lips, pressed a hand over his heart, and pushed. Magnus grunted, pain etched on his face as she pressed deeper, harder. I winced as I listened to him cry out. I felt as helpless as if I were watching it through the bars of a cage.

Maria came up beside me, keeping close. “Poor fellow,” she whispered, holding on to my arm. I could sense it: she was both comforting and controlling me, should I decide to act.

“There it is,” Mab cooed, holding some strange thing in her hand. It pulsed with light. The sheen was soft and delicate, milk white and tinged with blue. Magnus grimaced, one hand on his chest. He watched with desperation as the queen handled whatever small piece of his soul she’d taken.

And then she ate it. Gobbled it down like a small piece of cake. Magnus buried his head in his hands.

“You bitch,” I snarled, tears springing into my eyes. Maria dug her fingers into my arm. Mab smiled.

“I know,” she said in a singsong way. Traipsing up the steps to her throne, she returned to lounging. “You may use my roads. Remember not to stray from the path,” she called as we walked out, following her tree-barked knight.

I slipped beside Magnus. “Are you all right?” I asked. When I tried to hold his arm to steady him, he pulled away with a shake of his head.

“I hate this quest,” he whispered.

“Thank you,” I said.

“Indeed. You were…brave,” Blackwood said as he came up behind us. He sounded unsteady, as if complimenting Magnus required physical effort. Maria said nothing but put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

What a wretch I was. I should have forced Mab to take something from me. As Magnus walked ahead, I felt ashamed.

The road twined ahead of us, growing rockier and more uneven. There was barely space for us to pass single file. As the path grew narrower, whispering voices on either side called out to us. Listening to them, I could feel my eyes growing heavier. My legs felt weak; I wanted to turn, to sit and rest—

“Keep moving.” Maria grabbed me by my collar and steered me straight. “They’ve a way of tricking you.” Once she’d put me right again, she clapped her hands over her ears.

I murmured my thanks, slapping my cheek to bring myself out of the daze, and covered my ears as well. The road inclined steeply up, up, and up. My temples ached, as if someone had looped a leather band around my head and was tightening it, degree by degree, until I was on the verge of going mad.

We emerged aboveground between one heartbeat and the next. One instant, there was only dark earth above us. The next, the sun was so brilliant that my eyes watered and stung. Shouts of surprise erupted as a great crowd of people materialized out of nowhere. Maria was standing next to me, looking at the cobblestones beneath our feet with an expression of wonder.

“By the Mother,” Maria muttered. “Where are we?”

“In London,” I said, my eyes adjusting enough that I could recognize the streets. We’d come out close to St. Paul’s Cathedral, in the heart of traffic. A hansom cab came to a clattering halt mere feet from us, the horse rearing on his hind legs. A red-faced driver shouted obscenities at us, until he got a better look. Then he went pale.

“Sorcerers,” he murmured.

Maria huddled closer to me, like an animal seeking shelter. Had she ever been in a city before?

We quickly made our way out of the street. Thanks to the Faerie roads, we’d returned to London in record time. Now I could feel how odd we must look, with scythes and flutes strapped to our backs, daggers and swords dangling from our belts, a bone whistle around my neck, and a glowing, slightly sinister lantern in my hand.

“What do we do now?” Magnus said. He smiled at the crowd.

“We send word to Whitechurch and the queen,” Blackwood replied, adjusting the scythe across his back. The sharp teeth that hung from the edge of the blade were dangerously close to his head. Perhaps putting these weapons down would be a good idea. “First, we go home.”





Back in Blackwood’s front hall, we sloughed off packs and unbuckled weapons with sighs of gratitude. The footmen said nothing as they helped us, but I watched their expressions of shock as they managed the curling swords and daggers. I checked my pack; yes, Strangewayes’s book was still in there.

The moment I’d removed the weapons, I scanned the hall, hoping for a glimpse of Rook. Unfortunately, there was none to be had.

“Is Rook here?” I asked the butler.

“I believe he’s out, miss,” the man replied, holding the lantern as far from his body as possible. Rook was at work, most likely. Damn.

Maria slipped quietly to the sidelines, watching all of this with wide, wary eyes. She shifted her weight from foot to foot.