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The Winter Queen didn’t see the need to engage in verbal barbs; she concentrated on collecting the remaining strength she had, pulling the deepest cold to the surface of her skin. She let the cold fill her, and she watched the fight.
Niall angled to block Bananach from Donia.
Steadily, Donia eased up behind Niall, extending ice in a thick blade from both of her hands.
“Bad idea,” Bananach warned.
Donia ignored her. One chance. When she was within range, she raised her hands.
Just as she was ready to tell Niall to get out of the way, he was shoved to the side. In an almost simultaneous move, Bananach extended a sword of shadows and drove it clear through Donia’s abdomen. “You’ve become too much of a nuisance, Snow.”
Donia concentrated every remaining bit of Winter she could focus on the short blades of solid ice extending from her hands. Her legs gave out, so her weight was supported on the sword that War had buried in her body. The Winter Queen lifted both hands and tried to drive them into Bananach’s neck.
“I don’t think so.” The raven-faery leaned backward.
War withdrew her sword, and as she did so it re-formed as an ax. She swept her arm to the side. The shadow-made weapon was still taking shape as Bananach brought it down on Donia’s chest.
“Donia!” Niall yelled, and it was the last thing Donia heard before she fell to the bloody floor.
Chapter 37
“No!” Keenan saw Donia through the ice, watched her fall, and could do nothing. Instinctively, he exhaled on the ice wall, but all that did was add to the already thick barrier. He slammed a sword into the wall. “Damn it, Don!”
He screamed, “Aislinn! I need help here. Please. Sunlight.”
He dragged his hands against the wall in a futile effort to get to Donia, and tried to think of something he had to use. Ice was of no use against ice; swords and knives weren’t going to chip away at a solid wall anytime soon enough to help her.
“Ash! Please!” He looked around, trying to find the Summer Queen. “Ash! Donia’s down. I need your sunlight. Get me in there. Please!”
Beside him, Tavish clasped a hand on his shoulder. “Niall’s with her.”
“She’s dying,” Keenan snarled. “Aislinn!”
A blast of sunlight knocked a hole in the wall
, and Keenan scrambled through it. Tavish didn’t follow; he stayed behind, guarding the other side of the opening the Summer Queen had burned in the wall.
Keenan glanced at Niall, who was locked in the fight with Bananach, and then he gathered Donia into his arms and stood.
“Go,” Niall barked out.
Keenan backed through the opening in the wall of ice and pulled Donia’s motionless body with him. Winter fey were swarming over the remaining fights in the warehouse now.
“Close the hole,” Tavish urged. “I can’t stop her if she gets out.”
Cwenhild raced toward them. As she reached them, she directed, “Freeze her wounds, and get her out of here.”
The terror that was mounting inside Keenan made it difficult to speak. All he got out was: “She’s . . .”
“Not dead yet.” Cwenhild’s tone was even, but her expression was worried. “She’s my queen; I’d have felt it if she died.”
Keenan looked down at Donia. “Where’s Far Dorcha?”
“Out there.” Cwenhild pointed with a red-gloved hand.
Not a glove. Blood.
“Keenan! The hole—”
