Page 64 of A Beastly Court

“Is this the fae way, Ossian?” I demanded. “Is this what I can expect in Elfame? You’re supposed to be a king, not a tyrant!”

“A queen shouldn’t fight her king, Meadow.”

“You are no king of mine! Go back to Elfame alone, Ossian. I will summon your portal, and you will leave. But Redbud and its citizens are mine.”

The fae king squared his shoulders, more than half the gemstones on his necklace twinkling madly. Copper magic bloomed at his hands, growing brighter with every second. “Stand down, Meadow. You don’t have the strength to fight me.”

“You don’t think so? Then you should’ve never taught me the technique to defeat you!”

I didn’t even need to reach for the potted plants and flowers. Their green life energy sprang to my summons, channeling into me. Into us.

And not just theirs.

At my back, I felt the will of my friends. Nurturing Daphne, gentle Shari, bold Flora. Faithful Sawyer. I saw their power—their magic—as clearly as I saw my own, though that had to be impossible. Yet it was reaching for me, a strand each of white, of red, of green, even a honey amber from the little tomcat hidden in my foraging bag. It was all coming to my aid, bolstering the shield I was determined to become.

I seized hold of those strands, a memory of an outcropping deep in the Tussock woods springing free from the maelstrom guarding my memories. We had united like this before.

All four strands wrapped around my wrist, like threads twisting together to form a single thicker strand of yarn, and channeled their power into my heart. It swirled around the green life energy given by the plants, creating a new rope of magic that coiled up and up around the trunk of the oak tree. In its passage, my magic bloomed. The blue veins and green roots and red heart I’d seen from Violet’s demonstration returned, the white leaves shuddering under the restrains of the chain mail net.

Until the magic donated to me shot straight upwards.

The net exploded in a shower of white sparks, the branches of the oak tree stretching like they had just shed an entire winter’s worth of snow.

I was free.

My perception snapped to the physical realm, to the copper-wreathed fist streaking for my face.

Battle magic roused without me even striking my cuffs, leatherbound or not, and I caught that fist within an inch of my cheek.

I registered the shocked look in Ossian’s jewel-bright eyes for only a second before every gemstone on his necklace burst with a blast of blinding copper light.

I reeled back as if I’d been head-butted by a rhinoceros. The pain shot through my skull and into my mind, raking through my brain like the clawed paw of some monstrous creature. I couldn’t think, couldn’t hear—I definitely couldn’t see—but oh my Green Mother could I feel.

The pain was indescribable. It made me shrink, cower, retreat into the deepest depths of the oak tree and wail for deliverance.

And as quickly as it had come, it was gone.

Blinking away the copper stars bursting across my vision, I found myself with my arms thrown up over my head and my knees bent like I was preparing to receiving a crushing blow from above. But there was nothing there. Still wary of an attack, I straightened and lowed my arms slowly, hands balling into fists.

I was greeted with applause.

What?

The fae king stood only a few paces away, the biggest grin I’d ever seen on his face, clapping for me. At his throat, every gemstone twinkled on their golden wire strands in their own kind of celebration.

Wait, weren’t we just fighting? His fist was coming for my face, he’d been beating Flora—

“Three cheers for the cider witch!”

I snapped around at the sound of Flora’s voice to find my friends also clapping and cheering. They were happy, unwounded, and there was no blood trail anywhere on the bridge. The planters and flowers weren’t dashed upon the ground either, all healthy and whole in the back of the unruined wagon.

“What the—?”

“You did it, love,” Ossian cried, reaching for me.

I flinched back, lifting my glowing fists, and he backed up a pace, raising his hands with a soft chuckle.

“I understand how this all can be confusing, love, but it was just a trick,” the fae king explained in a soothing voice. “It was actually Flora’s idea. Isn’t that right?”