Page 191 of A Thief Among Fae

I didn’t expect her to know how to fight, but she lacks the conviction to win. I land a hard hit to her face, shove her onto her back so her body is strewn across the stairs, and hold my second dagger to her throat.

“Why did you do it? Were you working for them the whole time?”

“No!” she shouts.

“Then why did you betray us?”

She winces. The round nose that I’ve seen crinkle so many times when she laughs now leaks blood. “You don’t understand! Neiro has my mother’s family.”

“What?” I falter, but I don’t lower the dagger.

“Grandmother vowed she’ll die if I don’t obey. Then her husband next. Mom remarried after my dad died. She was happy.” Maeve’s face screws tight with grief, and tears waver in her pale eyes. “Then their children. Neiro kills children, Cyn.”

“What about the guild?” I demand. “What about Nikolai? He’s dead because you betrayed us!”

“I had to keep my duty to my family!” she cries out. “Even if it meant sacrificing the one I found.”

Duty.

That’s a word I’m tiring of fast.

I press the dagger in, preparing myself to get it over with. Her dark blood—orc and fomorian—beads on the blade. Maeve’s lip quivers, but she doesn’t look away. She doesn’t plead with me to spare her.

“Gods dammit,” I seethe, pulling it back. I can’t bring myself to kill her. This isn’t the same as murdering Gashil. His only motivation was violence, but Maeve. . .

If someone had captured my family, would I have betrayed the guild to save them? I don’t know. The thought is hard to stomach.

Neiro screams, startling me. I risk a look up at the balcony and gasp. “Oh, Gods. He didn’t.”

Queen Orla’s eyes glow an otherworldly blue, a color that I’ve seen too recently. Her lips are snarled in a malevolent smile as she holds her raised hands toward Neiro, who’s fallen to her knees.

Magic pulses, almost tangible. Desmond stands behind Orla, strain pinching his face as his shoulders bow in. Motes of light flow from Neiro’s chest to Orla’s. Neiro doubles over, her milky skin losing all traces of color.

Orla’s grin widens.

“Desmond, stop!” I yell. “She’s too powerful!”

I never knew much about Avedor’s queen, but her will is overpowering Desmond’s. She’s sentient even after death, and I know exactly what she’s becoming.

A draugr wight. A revenant so powerful that they can still use their magic. Just like the one I faced with Evie in the barrow. Just like King Olin.

Realization flashes in Desmond’s eyes. He fists his hands, then grunts.

Orla staggers, but she doesn’t stop. She keeps siphoning Neiro’s vitality into herself.

“I can’t control her!” Desmond yells. “She has too much magic!”

Neiro thrashes, her eyes rolling back. Her skin desiccates like a corpse’s.

I back away from Maeve. She scrambles to her feet, sees what’s happening, and screams.

Desmond draws his sword and runs at Orla. The queen screeches. A maelstrom of power whips through the air, throwing Desmond back. None of Orla’s regal composure remains—only a crazed anger from beyond the grave.

“We have to stop her,” I tell Maeve. “She’ll siphon from us all until there’s nothing left.”

Maeve’s eyes are wide with panic, but she nods. “What do we do?”

“Decapitation or fire. That’s the only way to kill them.”