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Keenan looked back at the faery who had bound him, who now possessed the king he’d offered to advise. “I won’t ever like you, but my father saw something worthwhile in you, and so does Niall. Summer will, undoubtedly, be there, and I know Winter will.”

“Then let’s move so we’re not last to the party.”

“My Queen!” Tavish’s voice rang through the loft.

Aislinn felt as much as heard the panic bloom in her seemingly imperturbable advisor. She hurriedly pulled a sundress over her head, but she was barefoot when she rushed to the main room of the loft. The onslaught of full Summer inside of her made it hard to stand still, so at the least, the burst of speed to her advisor’s side was refreshing.

“What’s wrong?”

“A messenger arrived, my Queen.” Tavish was moving toward her even as he spoke, and he stood at her side before he continued, “The war has begun.”

The messenger flinched and turned her face from the flash of light that filled the room. New powers; not really the best time to go diving into battles. Aislinn sighed, and eddies of wind tore books from the shelves. With effort, she spoke softly. “Where? Who fights?”

“The Dark Court’s warehouse, my lady.” The doe-eyed faery moved aside as a torn bit of curtain floated to the floor beside her. “The Hunt started the fight when Bananach declared herself Dark Queen . . . and the Gabriela bade me tell you that War has Seth.”

“She has Seth,” Aislinn repeated, with a stillness that was the polar opposite of her emotions. “Has him how? Where?”

“In a cage.” The faery stepped backward even as she spoke. “Gabriela—”

“Gabriela?” Tavish interrupted.

“Hound that was Chela. The Gabriel’s dead, so she’s Gabriela.” The faery shivered as rain filled the room. “I am blameless, Summer Queen.”

“I’m not angry with you,” Aislinn muttered. Every bit of self-control she had was going into keeping her temper in check.

So really not the time to do this.

Tavish advised, “The rain is fine, my Queen, but the sunlight in here is growing dangerous to any not of our court.”

“Oh.” Aislinn concentrated specifically on dulling the light and heat. She inhaled the warmth with a steady breath and then stared at her advisor with sunlight still pulsing on her tongue. Carefully, she said, “Let’s take it to where it can be dangerous to the right one then.”

Tavish nodded. “The Summer Guard will be ready in fifteen minutes.”

“Fine, but I’m leaving in five, with or without guards.” Aislinn strode off.

The Summer Queen returned to her room to pull on boots and jeans. Getting her feet crushed by flailing faeries was an avoidable injury, and her wet sundress was far from ideal for movement. Or fighting. She shucked off her clothes and yanked on jeans. I can’t fight worth a damn. She’d taken lessons from Tavish, trained with the guard after Donia had stabbed her. It’s not the same as centuries of experience. The handles of her drawer turned to ashes in her hand. Or any experience with all of summer inside me. Ashes slipped from her hand to the floor.

Siobhan came in. “Let me help.”

“Stupid wood.” Aislinn wiped her hand on her jeans.

The new Summer advisor pulled out the charred drawer.

Aislinn blinked away sudden tears of frustration and worry. “How am I to do this? I can’t control this yet.”

“You don’t need to keep it in check in a fight, Aislinn.” Siobhan reached in to grab the blade nestled among the T-shirts and immediately pulled her hand back when she realized that the blade was steel.

“Got it. That I can touch.” Aislinn wrapped her hand around the hilt. “I want you to stay here.” Then she yelled over her shoulder, “Two minutes!”

“I can fight.” Siobhan glared at her queen. “I’ve been—”

“Not doubting you.” Aislinn pulled her hair back into a hasty braid. “I need someone to handle things here if we don’t . . . If anyone gets past us, there are faeries here who are not designed for fights. You are in charge until I return.”

Siobhan bowed. “I won’t fail you.”

“Hopefully, it won’t come to that, but . . .” Aislinn shook her head, and then she looked at her friend and advisor. She took a deep breath and nodded. “I can do this.”

“You can.” Siobhan squeezed Aislinn’s free hand. “You are the Summer Queen. The first faery to hold the full weight of Summer in more than nine hundred years. Trust your instincts.”

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